Chapter 12
TWELVE
Adriano
Eliza walks out of the house ahead of me, her head held high. She refuses my assistance to get into the back of the SUV Santino will be driving us to the gala in tonight.
Though I prefer to be behind the wheel, I intend to have a few drinks tonight and my cousins would never let me live it down if I was arrested for driving while impaired.
Once she's settled on her seat I move around to the other side and get in next to her. I'm looking forward to this evening, especially knowing what lies beneath that gorgeous silk gown. I've attended a hundred galas like this but never with a woman like Eliza by my side.
The drive into Rome is quick with none of the usual traffic delays on the outskirts. Eliza is quiet which isn't like her. I've already come to expect her to have something to say on most topics. I suspect she's too focused on the strange sensations in her body to comment on the world around her.
Though her face is serene, the way she holds herself betrays some tension. Her posture is stiff. It could, of course, be nerves, but I doubt it.
Eliza handles me just fine. She can cope with a few snobby entrepreneurs.
When we reach the venue, a palazzo on the Via Giulia, I get out of the car and come to open her door for her. She gets out and smooths down her dress.
"There are photographers here," she says quietly.
"Of course there are, cara. It's a high profile event."
The way her mouth twists tells me this bothers her.
"You don't want to be seen with me?" My tone dares her to confirm that's the issue.
"It's not that. It's just nobody knows I'm back and what if Gabriele sees a picture of us?"
"He already knows I'm bringing you."
It's one of the reasons I bought the collar for her to wear. I wanted to show she isn't here as my equal but as a convenient date. I'm not entirely sure how true that is.
I put my hand at the small of her back. She inhales sharply, responsive as ever to my touch.
"Ready?"
Not waiting for a response, I lead her to the red carpet. A couple of photographers call my name and I oblige by stopping Eliza to pose for a moment.
There's nothing genuine about her smile but my grin is real. It might make me an asshole but her discomfort amuses me.
We walk into the venue and along the corridor to the ballroom where two hundred people are trying to outdo each other in the wealth and influence stakes. Comparing who has the biggest real estate portfolio isn't a game I play. My family could buy a small country and walk away with change.
Eliza looks around the room, taking in the frescos on the walls and the chandeliers on the ceilings.
"First time here?" I ask.
"No. My high school had its graduation party here." She smiles fondly at the memory. "They filled it with balloons and put a photo booth in the corner."
"Classy," I murmur.
She sticks her bottom lip out in a pout. "I'll have you know, Signore Volante, we drunk the finest non-alcoholic prosecco money can buy that night."
Horror fills me. "They have such a thing?"
"They do. And we ate mini hotdogs and sliders."
"What the hell is a slider?"
Eliza laughs, a sound that rumbles up from deep inside. She slaps my chest.
"Adriano, you're not serious?"
I shrug.
"It's like a mini burger."
"Then why do they call it a slider?"
"I don't know. I'm not in charge of naming things."
It's good to see her sass is back. She'll need it in this roomful of sharks masquerading as benefactors of the San Martino School for something. I don't remember what. Like everyone else I'm here to be seen to be doing good.
The men in the Volante family all take turns to attend charitable functions. It makes our legitimate businessmen facade a little more believable.
I keep my hand on Eliza's back as I steer her through the room introducing her to various important people. We don't linger to make small talk.
On a normal night I dislike it but tonight I really can't be bothered with idle chatter. So far every man I've introduced my date to has undressed her with his eyes. There's only so much of that I'm prepared to put up with before I blind someone. What would that do to the Volante's do-gooder image?
We take champagne from a tray. Eliza holds hers without drinking. She's keeping a clear head which is smart in this crowd.
I take her to the table where the items for the silent auction are laid out.
"See anything worth bidding on, cara?" I murmur.
"Hmm, yes. There's a sky-diving package in Namibia."
I can't contain my surprise. I didn't have her down as a thrill seeker. "That's something you'd like to do."
"No, but the thought of pushing you out of a plane over the Kalahari Desert has a certain appeal."
I can't help laughing. Eliza joins me then sobers suddenly. She goes still in a way that tells me something is wrong. I follow the direction she's looking in and it leads me to a man on the other side of the room.
Heavy set with cropped black hair, he has a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He's staring back at Eliza. It's not the look of a man who finds her attractive. He's a man who knows something about her and is surprised she's here.
When he sees me watching he raises his glass.
"Who is that?" I ask Eliza. She's gone incredibly pale.
"Who?"
"Don't play that game, cara. You know who."
She glances across the room again and shrugs.
"I don't know. I thought it was someone I used to know but I was wrong."
It's a lie. I've been in the business of uncovering people's secrets for long enough that I know when someone's not being honest with me.
Before I can push it, someone approaches.
"Adriano Volante. I thought that was you."
I turn to find one of the last people I expected standing behind me.
"Olivia. What are you doing here?"
She slaps my shoulder.
"With a welcome like that you should work for the tourist board." She looks past me and fixes an appraising eye on Eliza. "Introduce me to your friend."
"Eliza, this is my cousin Olivia who's come all the way from New York for no apparent reason. Olivia, Eliza."
Olivia frowns as her gaze lands on the collar at Eliza's throat. I'd like to think she'd be discreet enough not to mention it but that's not Olivia's style.
"Interesting, uh..." She gestures to her own throat. "Quite the fashion statement."
I grit my teeth. "Where's your husband, cugina?"
"Right here." Piotr Reznov appears at his wife's side and puts an arm around her waist. He offers his other hand to me to shake. "Good to see you Adriano. It's been a while."
"Not since your wedding," I say. "Congratulations on still being married."
Olivia scowls. "It's only been a year."
I love my cousin, I really do, but I can't imagine living with her for a week never mind a year. Damiano had to put up with her for months before her marriage. She's responsible for at least a quarter of the gray hairs he denies having.
"As I said, congratulations."
"You're an asshole, Adriano." Olivia pinches my cheeks and for some reason I let her. "It's lucky you're pretty. Now, can I borrow Eliza? I need to go to the powder room."
"You can't shit by yourself?" I ask.
Olivia makes a huffing sound and tosses her hair back. Upsetting her is almost too easy.
She reaches for Eliza's hand and pulls her away. I don't try to stop her. Even if Eliza reveals her situation, Olivia grew up in the mafia and married a Bratva boss. She's not going to bat a fake eyelash over me keeping a woman prisoner.
"So," Piotr says, drawing me away from the table as other guests mill around looking at the silent auction prizes. "I hear you're taking the lead on Marseille."
His organization is one of the partners in our consortium. "Yeah. Any clue what's going on there?"
"Albanians trying to get a foothold are causing problems." That much I knew. "They've got some heavyweight backers. Timofey thinks Eastern Europeans. He's not sure yet."
Eastern Europeans? I wonder if the Hungarian mafia is a possibility. It would certainly be interesting considering their attack on Gabriele three years ago and Eliza's connection to them.
I'll need more information from Timofey before I pursue that line of inquiry. If it does turn out the Albanians are backed by the Hungarians things with Eliza could get messy.
"I'll keep my ear to the ground."
Piotr nods. "Want to get a real drink? Olivia will keep your woman busy for a while."
"Yeah." I set my glass of champagne down. "I hate this stuff."
We head to the bar. Piotr orders a vodka and I do the same. I ask what brings him to Rome and he tells me it’s a combination of business and pleasure. I leave it at that.
We stay at the bar and talk about family things until Olivia finally brings Eliza back to me. I can't help noticing her face is a little flushed.
Olivia narrows her eyes at me which tells me either she got something interesting out of Eliza or nothing at all. I'm betting on the latter.
After running for three years, Eliza's too savvy to give up her secrets to a woman she only just met.
"Are you okay, cara?"
Eliza leans in close to whisper. "I think the plug has slipped. It feels weird."
I take her hand. "Excuse us, Piotr, Olivia. We have a minor emergency to deal with."
"Nothing serious I hope," Piotr says.
"No, Eliza just needs a little fresh air."
Keeping a tight hold of her hand I lead her across the crowded dance floor and out onto the terrace. I take her to the corner where it's dark.
There are people milling about on the lawn down below but where we're standing we have privacy. Eliza isn't the only one who needed air. I had to get out of that stuffy ballroom too.
"Show me," I tell her.
"What? Here?"
"Right here. Bend over the balustrade and lift your skirt."
Eliza sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Even in the dark I see the eager glint in her eye. She steps forward, bends over the stone wall and lifts her skirt. I step up behind her.
"Spread your legs, cara."
She complies immediately. I run my hands slowly down her spine and between her ass cheeks until I find the base of the plug.
"It's exactly where it's supposed to be," I tell her.
"Oh, right. It felt different."
Stepping up behind her, I put a hand on the wall on either side of her, caging her in.
"Is that so or did you just want me to remove it?"
"Of course not," she replies. "I would never be so devious."
"Why don't I believe that?" I slip my hand into her panties and find her pussy soaking wet. "I think someone's being naughty in the hopes of getting fucked."
"No." Her denial is unconvincing.
"Well, you're about to get fucked anyway."
I slide a hand around her throat and slip my fingers under the leather collar. Fuck! I’m not into that dominance and submission shit, but I love seeing her with this around her neck, a symbol of my ownership.
As if she’s heard my thoughts, Eliza swallows hard.
With my free hand, I unfasten my pants and free my cock. I drag her panties to the side and position myself behind her.
Tapping the inside of her legs I issue a silent command for her to spread them wider. She does.
Pushing into her takes a moment. It's not that she isn't ready for me.
She is. She's practically dripping. It's just that she's a little tighter with the butt plug in.
I have to work to get all the way in which makes it even more satisfying when I finally bottom out.
I can feel the plug rubbing against my cock as I thrust inside her.
Down below us, people laugh and joke with one another. "Look at them all," I tell Eliza as I pound into her. "Completely unaware. But you know who's fucking you, don't you."
"Yes, Adriano."
God I love how breathy her voice gets when I'm claiming her delectable body. It occurs to me that while I have her in this position I could force her to tell me the truth about who that man was.
Intending to tease the information out of her I set a slower pace than either of us wants right now.
Eliza makes a desperate sound and pushes back against me.
I put my mouth at the side of her neck but don't ask her anything. I let the question go. Whatever secrets she holds will keep a little longer.
There's only this moment, the two of us here on the terrace, the city beyond the walls and a party carrying on behind us. She reaches back to curve her hand around my face and something inside me breaks.
Fucking her hard and fast I'm not going to last long. The added friction of the plug doesn't help. I want us to come together so I reach around to play with her clit. She moans and pushes her ass back against me.
As I feel her tightening, my own climax hits. Her body spasms, her pussy milking my cock. I grip the base of the butt plug and push it deeper. Then I pull it out of her.
My hand covers Eliza's mouth just in time to stifle her scream. I don't want to draw attention, this moment is only for me.
I hold her tight as she quivers all over. Her legs tremble but I won't let her fall. I pet her hair and kiss the side of her face as she slowly comes back down to earth. She turns to press her body closer to me. I’ve never sought this sort of intimacy before but right now I welcome it.
"That was incredible."
"Yes it was, cara."
I take her hand and lead her down the steps. We're not going back through the ballroom.
"Are we leaving?" she asks as I get my phone out to tell Santino to bring the car.
"Yes we are. Forget about the green dress, cara. The minute we’re home, I’m going to rip this one off you."