Chapter 1
Chapter One
Lily
“Your pussy feels so good,” Alessio moans, his voice thick with desire as his hands grip my hips, anchoring me in place while I straddle him, kissing a trail along his neck.
The air in his office is heavy with the scent of leather and lust, our clothes chaotically thrown around the space.
The sounds of our bodies slapping together mix with my breathy moans and his deep, primal grunts; it’s all so raw.
“Tell me how much you love it,” I pant, my heart racing as I showcase my body for him, riding him with a rhythm that drives him wild.
The only adornments on my skin are the emerald earrings he gifted me just a few months ago, each gem encircled by twenty-three shimmering diamonds, a celebration of my age.
They glint in the low light, a constant reminder of his affection and the complexities of our entangled lives.
“Fuck, Lily,” he gasps, his hands tightening on my waist as he begins to control the pace of my movements. “I’ll give you everything. Anything you want.”
“A new bag,” I tease, a smile playing on my lips, trying to keep the mood light despite the weight of our situation.
“How about my last name?” he replies, his breath hot against my ear, laced with hope.
For a moment, silence hangs between us, thick and suffocating.
I know the answer is no, a truth that claws at my insides.
So, I pull him in for a kiss, letting my moans spill into his mouth, coaxing him to the edge.
He suddenly flips me onto my back, driving into me with a fierce urgency that leaves me gasping.
My skin sticks to the leather sofa, the heat of our bodies mixing with the cool material, while I grip the armrest above my head, surrendering to the moment.
I don’t reach my climax this time, my thoughts consumed by my best friend, Clarissa.
My pussy clenches around him, urging him deeper, and as he grips the sofa for leverage on his last thrust, I moan, letting him believe I came with him.
Alessio collapses back onto the sofa, his head tilted back, trying to catch his breath as I rise to my feet, searching for my panties.
He watches me, his gaze intense and filled with desire as I slip back into my clothes.
When I finally pull my blouse over my head, he stands, removing the condom and tossing it into the trash with a casual flick of his wrist.
“You didn’t answer me,” he says, his voice a mix of frustration and longing as he finds his boxers and pulls them on.
“About?” I giggle, pretending I’m clueless, even as my heart races with the weight of his question.
“Taking my last name.” He moves to find his pants, sticking one leg in after the other, pulling them up with a determined look. “I bought you the car you wanted. I pay for your pampering. I dress you in diamonds.” He buttons his pants, zipping them up, looking at me with determination.
“Maybe you should give that to your girlfriend, you know, the one carrying your child,” I shoot back, my heart sinking at the reminder of Clarissa.
He begins to thread his belt through the loops of his pants with a frustrated sigh. “Clarissa is a good girl, but I want you. I always have. Why can’t you be mine?”
His words hit me like a ton of bricks, heavy and suffocating, and I pull out my compact mirror from my purse, desperately trying to fix my hair and reapply my lipstick as a shield against the emotions swirling within me.
“You got my best friend pregnant. I can’t do that to her.” The excuse spills out, a half-truth that feels like a betrayal even as I say it.
Sure, everyone knows Clarissa is my best friend, but our relationship is more complex—frenemies at best. She pursued Alessio knowing that becoming his wife would grant her the power she craved.
What she doesn’t know is that Alessio would leave her in a heartbeat if I beckoned him.
But if I were to take him, it would raise too many questions, especially since I’m grappling with my own fertility issues, a secret I guard fiercely.
Clarissa’s pregnancy complicates everything; she now holds the key to Alessio’s legacy, while I am left standing in the shadows, knowing I could never compete.
“I could have Clarissa and the baby sent away. They wouldn’t be a bother. We could get married and have our own kids.” The sound of his belt buckle clanking echoes in the tense silence.
I bend my knee and slip on my red-bottom heels. “And what would people say about me?” I challenge, doing the same with my other foot. “I won’t be second best to anyone.”
He adjusts his tie, one I had carefully chosen for him. “If I knew a one-night stand would end up with her pregnant, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“Right,” I respond, ready to deflect his guilt. “Why would I marry someone who fucked my best friend anyway?”
“You were with Gavin. I was sure he was going to propose when you went to Greece.” His words are laced with frustration. “I was drunk and alone. It was stupid and a mistake.”
I thought my ex-boyfriend, Gavin, would propose too, but instead he flew off on a work trip after our vacation and ended things over the phone, leaving my heart shattered and my trust in men even more fractured.
“Well, there’s nothing to change what happened,” I clear my throat, forcing myself to regain composure. “I have a hair appointment. I’ll call you later.”
I glide across the office, making sure he catches another glimpse of me before I step out. When I close the door behind me, I’m met with the sight of both my brothers-in-law and another advisor standing there, their expressions unreadable.
“Glad we didn’t need to stay for another round,” the man on the left quips, a hint of mockery in his tone.
Darius shoots him a warning look before focusing back on me, his eyes narrowing. “Are you proud of yourself?” He nods toward the office door behind me, a challenge in his voice.
“Fucking Rhode Island’s most powerful man? Yes, I’d say so. Better than the other suitors you’ve been sending my way,” I retort, my sarcasm dripping like venom.
“Selene swears you aren’t like your mother,” Cameron snickers, “but you seem more like her every day.”
“Well, she’s my mother,” I shrug, pretending the jab doesn’t sting. It’s infuriating enough that I bear her resemblance, both in looks and in reputation. “You can tell Stasia and Selene about how I open my legs, but let’s remember he’s a single man and comes willingly.”
“It doesn’t bother you that someone else is carrying his child?” Cameron's voice drips with contempt as he crosses his arms defiantly over his chest.
“Actually, you’re the one bothering me.” I shoot him a glare so fierce it feels like daggers are shooting from my eyes, then turn my vision toward Darius.
“And you.” My arms cross tightly over my chest, a futile attempt to shield myself from their judgment.
“Both of you are the reason my sisters won’t speak to our mother.
Both of you are the reason we’re practically scrambling for money just to survive. ”
Darius takes a step forward, his imposing figure casting a shadow over me, an attempt to intimidate.
“Your sisters made their choice to abandon your mother because of her wickedness. If it weren’t for my promise to Stasia to stay out of this mess, I’d relish the chance to see your expression once you grasp how manipulative your mother truly is.
” He looms over me, his presence suffocating.
“And let’s be honest, I doubt Stasia would be thrilled to learn that her little sister is selling herself for cash. Isn’t that what they call it, Cameron?”
“Prostitution,” Cameron replies, his tone laced with disdain. “A disgrace to the Andretti name. Your father must be rolling in his grave, ashamed of what you’ve become.”
Of course they are aware that Alessio has been funding my lifestyle, but I have no choice. Where can I get hired with a fashion degree with no work experience? Why not put my pretty face and body to good use?
“Neither of you would dare breathe a word of this. Alessio wouldn’t be pleased, and let’s face it, if he had to choose who to listen to, it certainly wouldn’t be either of you over me.
” A confident smirk creeps onto my face, masking the turmoil within.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have a hair appointment. Prepaid, of course.”
I push past them, my head held high, but inside, I feel like I am crumbling.
Each step away is heavy with the weight of shame and regret, a gnawing pain in my gut.
My dad, a man of honor and pride, would be devastated if he knew that his little girl was giving away her body, trading her dignity just to stay in the same social circle before he passed.
The thought claws at me, a reminder of all the things I am trying so hard to escape.
The door of the salon swings open with a gentle chime, instantly enveloping me in a cocoon of soft light and the fragrant notes of lavender and sandalwood.
The luxurious interior radiates opulence, with plush black velvet chairs and gilded mirrors reflecting the artistry of the space.
I step inside, my designer heels clicking against the polished marble floor, each step echoing my confidence and poise.
"Ah, Lily! You look absolutely divine as always!
" exclaims Maria, my hair stylist, as she rushes forward with an effervescent smile.
“Just put your things down at my station and we will get to the sink. Are we only doing a Brazilian blowout?” She reaches for a strand of my hair to examine. “You are due for a trim.”
“Not till I get back from vacation in a few weeks.”
“Ohh nice!” Maria leads the way to her station. “So, I’ll book you for a trim and deep conditioning treatment when you’re back. I did not spend this whole year making sure your thick, luscious, beautiful hair grew to your hip just to be damaged after a few weeks soaking in the sun.”
“I will try my best not to come back a complete wreck," my voice as smooth as silk. I sink into the sumptuous chair, feeling the soft fabric embrace me as Maria drapes a black cape around my shoulders. “My hair is finally recovered after removing my extensions.”
“Where are you off to this time?” Maria asks as all stylists engage with their customers, pretending to be invested in their lives.
I’ve been coming to Maria for years; she knows things before I tell my own family. Maybe it’s her lack of vocal judgment that I enjoy. She could be interested in my life just to make me feel special so that I come back, but I like to think we have some kind of friendship.
"I’m heading to Saint-Tropez next week.” My eyes sparkle with excitement. “Doing the usual lavish itinerary—yachts, private dinners, and a little shopping spree on the Croisette."
"Oh, how heavenly! Are you taking anyone special with you?" Maria teases, her eyes dancing with curiosity as she begins to work her magic.
I pause, my mind drifting to the handsome man I had recently encountered at a charity gala. "His name is Jason, who has been rather persistent with his advances," I muse, a coy smile forming on my lips. "He’s charming, has a yacht of his own, and is quite the catch, if I do say so."
Maria raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk curling at the corners of her painted lips. "Husband material?"
“Not sure yet. Nice arm candy, though.”
“There’s no rush, you’re young.” Maria laughs playfully. “Enjoy your twenties. It’s when you’re supposed to be reckless before you have to be boring.” She sticks out her tongue to the side like she’s a dying animal.
I burst out laughing. “My parents got married before they were legally able to drink.”
“That was back then! In this day and age, women don’t settle down until they’re in their thirties or maybe well into their forties. Why rush it?” She looks at me through the mirror. “Take it from someone who has been married twice already.”
I sigh. “That won’t work, Maria. A woman’s biological clock hasn’t caught up to feminism. The chances of having children are slimmer the older you get.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to be a mother so badly,” she replies. “Your sister Selene came in with Naomi the other day for her first haircut,” Maria smiles. “Replica of Selene.”
Nodding my head with a smile. “Yes, sweet as her too.”
“And what about your other sister? The oldest one? What’s her name? She have any kids?”
“Stasia. She and Darius are trying.” I shrug a shoulder. “I think once she’s done with her fellowship in a few months, she won’t be as stressed. She has a lot on her plate. Becoming a neurosurgeon really takes a toll on someone.”
“That’s a lot of schooling, right?”
“I can’t remember Stasia not being in school. But she’s passionate about it.”
“So, Selene is a stay-at-home mom and Stasia the doctor. What do their husbands do?”
My body tenses at the question. Telling her they work for the organized crime family of this city, the Costellos, could very easily change how she looks at me.
Coming to the salon is nice because no one here knows me to be part of the mob lifestyle.
They just know me as Lily. No last name, just a girl who comes from money, gets her hair done, and always pays in cash.
And I want to keep it that way. It creates less pressure to be perfect.
“Stasia’s husband is in finance, and Selene’s husband, I think, is in the union?”
“Oh nice! How’s your mother? I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“She’s good,” I reply, brushing the topic off mainly because she embarrassed me last time she was here with me.
“I’m sure she isn’t upset that we got rid of your extensions after seeing how healthy we got your hair.”
Nodding, I say, “Mom just hates short hair.”
The hours slip by in a whirl of gossip and hair products as Maria works her magic until she is finally done.
"Thank you, Maria! I feel fabulous.” I look at myself in the mirror. Draping my leather handbag over my arm, I walk over to the front desk to book my next appointment.
“What a vision of elegance.” The receptionist smiles at me.
She says it every time and now I just think she says it to everyone. As I push the salon door open, the bright sunlight greets me, illuminating my shimmering aura. My Mercedes is parked right under a tree in the shade.
Right as my hand reaches the handle, a damp cloth is placed over my mouth and everything goes black.