Chapter 18 Chiara
Chiara
I’m no stranger to upmarket galas. When Dad was alive, he would sometimes let me tag along to events like this. The adults loved to coo over pretty little girls like me, all dressed up in their Mary Janes and cute frocks.
Once Vivian came along, he chose her over me. In all senses of the word.
After I saw the press pack and hungry crowds swarming the entrance when we arrived, I remembered why I prefer sitting at home with Netflix and a bottle of wine.
Angelo drags me over to the temporary bar where he orders a bourbon. I raise one eyebrow while waiting for him to offer me a drink, but he ignores me in favor of stabbing his phone screen. I suspect this is his idea of punishment after I caused a scene with the tiny woman.
“Such a thoughtful husband,” I scoff, but no matter. There’s plenty of free champagne doing the rounds. Champagne isn’t my favorite drink, but beggars can’t be choosers.
I scan the crowd, searching for a familiar face, but see none. Not even Fina, even though I know she’s here somewhere. Kane’s also lurking nearby, but I pretend he doesn’t exist.
He catches my eye anyway, and smirks before eye-fucking me while Angelo looks away. The sensible part of me recognizes such behavior is pretty disrespectful for a man who works for Angelo, but lord help me, my libido sees it as a challenge.
Knowing Kane’s gaze is on me, I lean forward, ostensibly to scratch my ankle, but really to give him an eyeful of my tits as they threaten to fall out of my dress. Yeah, no bra. The girls are unfettered.
Kane stiffens—in all senses of the word. His tailored black pants can’t quite hide his erection. I straighten and smirk as he openly adjusts himself. What a…dick. Angelo turns as Kane spins away to check out the room.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks when he sees me grinning at absolutely nothing.
“Oh, just enjoying the vibe. It’s good to get out and enjoy somewhere new since I’m locked up in your mansion the rest of the time.
” My voice rises an octave at the end of the sentence, and a couple standing nearby glance our way.
I give them a finger wave before making a dramatic throat-slitting gesture.
The woman, an octogenarian dripping in furs and diamonds, almost chokes on her drink.
She whispers something to her reptilian husband before he swiftly moves her away.
Rude.
I could be a trafficking victim and they’re ignoring my cry for help?
“For fuck’s sake, behave, Chiara.” Angelo downs his bourbon with a scowl. My shoulders shake in silent laughter until I look up and see a tall man in a white tuxedo bearing down on us. There’s something familiar about him, but I can’t quite recall where we’ve met before.
It could have been my ill-fated wedding ceremony, or perhaps he’s one of my father’s former business associates.
“Angelo. Good to see you, son.”
“Remington. Always a pleasure.” Their greeting is oh so polite, but there’s a discernible thread of tension between the two men, and I don’t miss how Angelo pulls me closer, his arm snaking around my waist in a blatant display of ownership.
Remington smiles, showing off a perfect set of white teeth. So perfect, the guy belongs in a toothpaste commercial. No, seriously.
The tension between him and Angelo is thick enough to cut with a knife, which makes me wonder what my husband has done to piss the guy off. Because it has to be something bad. Although, he only has to breathe to piss me off.
As the silence between them stretches into the realm of deeply awkward, Remington spends a few seconds longer than is polite staring at my face and then body. His attention makes my skin crawl.
“Chiara. Such a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” I frown. How does he know my name when Angelo hasn’t introduced us?
“Um, thanks?” I can’t even pretend to be polite.
There’s something about this Remington guy that makes my skin itch.
Kane must agree because he’s edged closer and his hand has moved close to the gun I know he carries beneath his beautifully tailored jacket, the one that highlights his broad shoulders and powerful arms. Not that I’ve spent a lot of time staring. ..
“You humiliated my daughter,” the man says while smiling, his eyes colder than fucking Siberia.
Angelo scoffs under his breath. “Paris and I were never serious, Tim. You know this.”
“Funny. She must have misread the situation.” Oh, so this guy has beef with Angelo? Is he an overprotective daddy seeking revenge for his poor daughter? Interesting.
“If she misread the situation, it was because she chose to,” Angelo snaps.
“Were you two an item before you fell in love with me, darling?” I ask, playing the part of a loving wife, just like Angelo asked me to. His eyes narrow for a second before he gives me a tight smile.
“Not quite, darling, but we can discuss it later. Right now, we have somewhere to be. Now if you’ll excuse me, Tim, I really must find my sister before the auction begins.”
Remington’s jaw ticks before he steps back. Goosebumps break out across my arms while my nipples poke holes in my bodice.
“Of course. Let’s catch up some other time. Perhaps at my club. You can bring your lovely wife. I’m sure she’d enjoy the entertainment.”
“Yes, let’s,” Angelo grits out before he steers me away so fast I almost stumble.
“I’d like to hear more about that man’s daughter,” I hiss. Am I jealous? Hell no. But I am curious.
“She’s nothing for you to worry about, darling.”
Hearing him call me darling makes me snort. I’m pretty sure the only thing he calls me in his head is bitch.
“So what’s this club he mentioned?” I like clubs.
At least I did. Not been to one in a while.
I spent most of my year on the run serving cheap beer in shitty bars and wiping tables in diners.
My budget didn’t stretch to expensive cocktails in clubs, and I was never desperate enough to take a job as a pole dancer.
“A sex club.”
I stop dead in surprise. “Sex club?”
Angelo grumbles irritably for the fifty billionth time this evening. “For fuck’s sake, keep your voice down!”
“Hey, I want to go to a sex club!” Kane must have heard me over the tasteful classical music being piped from hidden speakers. He laughs out loud.
“The only sex you’re allowed to have, my darling wife, is with me.”
“Amazing. Guess I can look forward to a lifetime of celibacy then.” If that asshole thinks I’m willing to fuck him so he can have a baby, he’s delusional.
“Although,” I muse as we reach a room full of gorgeous men and women wearing stupidly expensive gowns, “Luka could be your stand-in. He shares genes. Nobody would ever know you weren’t the bio-daddy.
” My plan has merit. Not gonna lie. I do fancy Luka.
More than fancy him. I mean, come on, the dude’s fucking hot, and I’m in my peak ho era.
Or I would be if I wasn’t fucking married against my will.
Sadly, Angelo looks like he might legit have a coronary at my suggestion. He drags me through a side door and into a small gallery of cute little stuffed animals in glass display cases. One of them has very sharp teeth. Is that a prehistoric rat? Eww.
I’m thrown against a wall while Kane stands in the doorway keeping watch, his back to us. Looks like the asshole is happy to turn a blind eye to domestic abuse. Good to know. I resolve to kick the misogynistic fuck in the nuts again if the opportunity arises. On behalf of womankind.
Angelo cages me in with his arms while reeking of anger and toxic masculinity. I should be terrified of what he might do next, but to my shame, I’m horribly turned on. Does that make me the problem?
“If my brother lays one finger on you, know this, Chiara. I will kill him, so think about that the next time you decide to flirt over the kitchen island or while you’re watching a movie together. I’d hate for his death to be on your conscience.”
Angelo’s words drown my lust in cold water, and I freeze.
“What the actual fuck? Have you been spying on us?”
He curses before punching the wall next to my head, leaving a bloody indentation behind.
“You give me no fucking choice, Chiara!” Wild eyes rake over me as he steps back, and I’m left reeling in confusion.
We’re strangers who’ve barely spent any time together since Kane dragged me back here. What does he expect?
“At least Luka’s made an effort to be nice to me!
Of course I’ve spent time with him. It’s not like anyone else talks to me in that fucking mausoleum.
You’re never there. Would you rather I chatted to myself or to a random painting on the wall?
Maybe I need to find a basketball in your home gym and paint a face on it. ”
Not that I’ve spent any time in his basement gym. Treadmills and weight benches aren’t my thing. I prefer working my brain not my body.
Angelo stalks away, muscles bulging inside his tux. The guy’s one second away from losing it. This version of Angelo is feral. Nothing like the public persona he shows the world.
“Angelo, we need to go before someone comes looking for you.” Kane’s voice cuts through Angelo’s inexplicable anger. He takes a deep breath before exhaling slowly.
“There are cameras everywhere in my home, Chiara. I’d remember that if I were you.”
I chew on his revelation for a moment before pushing away from the wall with a smile.
“Good to know.” Confusion flashes across his face before he huffs and walks away. No doubt he was expecting me to rage about the invasion of privacy, but while I ought to be horrified knowing he’s been watching me, there’s a big part of me that likes it.
And a small, twisted part of my soul plans to use his cameras against him.
The bastard thinks he has me caged. Well, he’ll soon learn how it feels to be on the outside looking in while I have all kinds of fun.