Chapter 19 Chiara
Chiara
Angelo’s hand on my lower back is firm as he pushes me forward.
The dress he’s chosen for tonight’s charity gala in aid of the women’s shelter the family funds is a deep midnight blue.
It brings out the sapphire in my eyes, and even though I dislike being treated as a dress-up mannequin, the man has good taste.
Fina cried off tonight’s festivities. The official line is she has stomach flu, but it’s more that being pregnant is kicking her ass. I caught her throwing up this morning. The poor woman is struggling with raging morning sickness. How nobody else has figured out she’s pregnant is a miracle.
Luckily for her, Angelo is much too distracted by all the problems he’s having to realize his sister has a baby on the way.
Luka’s cried off, too. He told me two days ago he’d scored an audition with a casting director for a small part on a daytime soap. He’s very excited about it, and I’m excited for him.
This part came about because of a funny skit video he posted on TikTok, which went viral. He filmed himself acting out a scene from a recent blockbuster movie using household items as props. Honestly, it was hilarious while also showing off his acting chops.
My guy has talent, and I’m thrilled the rest of the world is finally beginning to see he’s more than a pretty face.
Tonight’s gala is being held at the Aurora Luxe Hotel, the newest addition to the chain of casino hotels the family owns. The theme is James Bond 007, Licensed to Thrill.
When I asked Angelo if he wanted to use Felix as a prop for his Blofeld costume, he didn’t find it funny. Instead, he’s all dolled up in a black tuxedo with diamond cufflinks that probably cost more than some African country’s national debt.
Looking around the room, where the rich and philanthropic rub shoulders with A-listers, it’s clear the actual theme tonight is gaudy excess with a side of entitlement.
While the aim is to raise money for a new women’s shelter, among other things, most people are here to see and be seen. That they can offset their tax bill with a hefty charity donation is just the icing on the cake.
An older man with snow-white hair and beady little eyes traps Angelo in a conversation about a property development project. After five minutes, I’m bored out of my skull and ready for a bathroom break.
I took advantage of the champagne the moment we arrived, downing a glass within five minutes.
The second glass I consumed less than thirty minutes later means my bladder is protesting.
“Excuse me while I visit the restroom,” I announce when Angelo’s companion draws a breath. Angelo frowns, knowing he can’t leave without appearing rude. So he nods at Kane, who hovers nearby.
“Let me escort you, Mrs. Di Rossi,” Kane says with a twinkle in his eye. We’ve not had any quality time together since we returned from Scotland. I have a feeling Angelo is keeping him extremely busy on purpose.
“Be quick, darling, the auction starts in fifteen minutes,” Angelo tells me.
“Of course, darling,” I reply with a bright, sarcastic smile, intending to take as long as possible.
My feet are killing me in these shoes. Heels and I are not friends. How Fina copes with wearing fucking heels all day is beyond me. The woman must have steel-plated feet.
Kane stands guard outside the bathroom with its vaulted ceiling, Italian marble counters, and gold-plated faucets while I waste time. When I finally emerge, he grabs my hand and tugs me down a corridor, away from the main casino floor.
I’m too startled to ask why.
The office door closes with a resounding click. Before I can take in my surroundings, Kane has me pressed up against the wall. He devours my mouth with a feral growl, like we’ve been apart for months. Like he might die if he doesn’t taste my lips in the next five seconds.
Honestly, the feeling is mutual. While Luka has been in my bed more times than I can count over the last three weeks, I can’t help but crave Kane too.
Does that make me a slut?
Thanks to the champagne fizzing in my veins, I don’t care.
Our tongues duel as his hand slides up my thigh, taking full advantage of the slit in the dress fabric.
“Fuck, kitten, I’ve missed you,” he groans when we finally break apart for some much-needed oxygen.
“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” I’m slightly ashamed of the petulant note in my voice. Needy isn’t normally one of my personality traits. I’ve never been a demanding woman who can’t bear to be apart from her man.
“Angelo’s had me chasing down leads all over the state.” He doesn’t elaborate on what he means by leads, and I don’t ask. “Besides, you’ve been pretty busy with Luka.” The smirk reassures me he’s not jealous, which is a relief. Having to choose between them would be impossible.
“Have you been watching us?” His hand slips between my thighs, and I moan. I’m aching and wet, and when he discovers for himself how wet I am, he sinks to his knees.
“Damn right I’ve been watching. Every time he fucks you, I pretend it’s me sinking my cock into your sweet pussy.” He pushes my dress up my legs before he lifts one ankle and rests it on his broad shoulder. “Now be a good girl and stay quiet so we don’t attract attention.”
It doesn’t take long for me to come. Before I’ve finished riding out my orgasm, he unzips his pants and thrusts inside me. We fuck like the world is about to end. Hell, it could have ended and neither of us would have noticed.
Music and voices drift through the door. Angelo is probably wondering where the fuck I am, but before the thought can fully form, Kane yanks my bodice down and latches on to my breast.
Mindless pleasure obliterates common sense. Kane’s dick stretches me, pushing me closer to a second orgasm. When his mouth finds mine again, I can taste myself on his lips and smell my arousal in his neatly trimmed beard.
I love the idea he’ll walk back out of this room smelling of my pussy.
He grinds into me, rubbing my clit harder, and I fall apart with a gasp.
“Fuck, I can’t come inside you,” he groans with a pained expression as my pussy squeezes him. It’s a good job one of us is thinking because I’m utterly dickmatized.
He pulls out of me with a grunt and pushes me to my knees. I take his cock inside my mouth, his hand gripping the back of my neck so tight it’s painful.
It takes only two more thrusts before he unleashes down my throat. There’s so much cum I struggle to swallow it all. Some leaks out and drips down my chin, splashing onto my exposed breasts.
Kane smiles as I lick my lips. Anyone looking at me now will know I’ve just been fucked within an inch of my life. If the cum stains on my dress don’t give me away, my ruined makeup will.
“I need to clean up!”
“Be quick, kitten. Angelo’s cursing me to hell and back.”
“He is?” Oh, I completely forgot. Kane has a small earpiece in. Angelo must be asking where we are.
“Five minutes.” Kane leads me back to the ladies’ bathroom, which is thankfully empty. I repair my lipstick, tidy my hair, and do a shit job of wiping away cum stains from my dress. At least it’s a dark shade of blue, so with a bit of luck, nobody will notice.
If looks could kill, I’m deceased already. Angelo takes one look at Kane and me and clenches his jaw so hard I worry he might suffer a cardiac event. Kane smirks and falls back a few feet, resting nonchalantly against a stone pillar as our fellow guests give him a wide berth.
The man has a top-tier resting bitch face. Even better than mine, which is saying something. He also gives off a strong I-will-murder-you-if-you-look-at-me-wrong vibe.
I paste an innocent expression on my face and pretend I have no clue why Kane’s smirking like the cat that ate all the cream.
When the auction begins, Angelo takes my hand and squeezes it so tight I swear he breaks a bone or three. But we’re surrounded by people with finely tuned antennae for gossip, so there’s nothing he can say or do without attracting attention.
An hour later, and I’ve slipped into a boredom coma; it’s a wonder someone hasn’t called 911. When Angelo catches me yawning wider than the Grand Canyon, he sighs and motions Kane over.
“Call the driver.” Kane nods and mutters something into his comms device.
“I’ll use the bathroom before we go.”
Angelo makes a move to follow me, but I roll my eyes. “The bathroom is right there,” I say, gesturing at the gleaming gold door less that ten feet away. “I’ll be quick.”
“And I’ll be waiting,” he grumbles.
As much as his overbearing paranoia irritates me, I can’t help but find it comforting. I like that he’s watching out for me, even though he’s angry.
Everything about my relationship with Angelo confuses me. I should hate him, but after Scotland, my feelings have changed. Yes, I still hate that he forced me into a marriage I don’t want, but it’s not black and white.
He didn’t want this marriage any more than I did, and yet here we are. Both of us are too stubborn to back down. It’s become a matter of pride.
I refuse to be the wife he wants, while he refuses to let me go.
Not even the fact that I’m sleeping with his brother and his best friend has changed his mind. I’d have thought by now he would have taken a mistress, but to the best of my knowledge, there are no other women in his life.
I’m not sure how I’d feel if he were fucking other women, which makes no sense whatsoever.
When I step back out of the cubicle to wash my hands, my dear stepmother is in front of a mirror touching up her makeup.
Diamonds sparkle around her slim neck, drawing attention to her enhanced cleavage.
Since marrying for the third time—or is it the fourth?
—Vivian has had some work done. I’ll admit, she looks good.
The caramel highlights in her perfectly coiffed hair appear natural, and her figure is slender with no hint of midlife weight gain.
If not for the slight tightness around her eyes, I’d put her in her mid-thirties.
But she doesn’t deserve my compliments.
I ignore her as I wash my hands, but her hypercritical gaze crawls over my face and body, checking for perceived flaws.
“You’ve gained weight,” she tells me with a sneer.
“And?” I no longer care what she thinks.
“Be careful, Chiara, or your husband will stray.”
I snort, unable to contain my amusement. She has no fucking clue. As she sniffs and turns away to check her teeth for lipstick, a card wedged in her open clutch catches my eye.
The paper is thick and creamy. Expensive. The embossed gold heraldic design triggers a memory. I’ve seen it before. But where?
Before I can examine it further, Vivian sees me staring and snatches her clutch back.
Her gaze drops to my stomach and lingers.
“You should be pregnant by now, Chiara. Lorenzo knows you’re fertile, so what’s taking so long?”
The alcohol in my blood temporarily shuts down my inhibitions. Sober Chiara would walk away, but drunk Chiara is in no mood to put up with her bullshit. So I do what I should have done a long time ago. I slap her across the face. Hard enough to leave a red handprint.
She wails. Jesus. Anyone would think I had just stabbed her.
The door bursts open, and Angelo charges in, gun in hand. He takes in the scene and relaxes.
“Everything okay, darling?” I smile serenely while dabbing my lips with a tissue as he scans me from head to toe to make sure I’m not injured.
“Peachy. Enjoy the rest of your evening, stepmother dearest.” Vivian lunges forward and tries to scratch my face, but Angelo intervenes.
“Touch my wife and I’ll end you.” She freezes, knowing full well he means it. Tim Remington is corrupt and rich, with many powerful connections, but when push comes to shove, he won’t risk an all-out war with my husband’s family.
“You’ll pay for this,” she hisses.
Angelo chuckles. “The marriage contract was a one-time deal, Vivian. You won’t get another cent from us.”
My lip curls at the reminder, but I shove it down. Angelo doesn’t have to protect me from the poisonous bitch who ruined my life. He could have left me to deal with her, and I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. But despite everything, he’s always willing to protect me.
The ice around my heart melts as he places his hand on my lower back and leads me away.