Chapter 9
CHANTEL
“I always knew he was an asshole,” Abella says. “But I didn’t think he was actually dangerous.”
“That makes two of us,” I mutter.
She leans back in her chair, picking off another piece of cornetti as she processes everything I just told her. The three of us have been holed up in the kitchen for the last half hour since she arrived, and I shared the condensed version of what happened last night.
It isn’t something I would have brought up on my own, but Angelo told Abella this morning before she came over, and apparently Cristian told Mariella. They’ve promised to keep it between us until I’m ready to share with the others, which will probably be never.
I don’t want them worrying about me.
I take a sip of my coffee, thoughts drifting as my gaze settles on Cristian across the room. I can’t seem to stop stealing glances at him, but every time I do, I feel humiliated over everything that happened last night.
Not only did I climb onto his lap and offer myself up to him, he caught me doing something nobody else has ever witnessed.
I’ve never been so mortified in my life.
I have no idea what I was thinking, but in my drunken mind, I convinced myself that the tension between us was actually chemistry. Now I know it was delusion.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to face him on a regular basis when I can barely meet his eyes. I can only imagine what he thinks of me, but I suspect the current security measures are a result of his pity.
“You absolutely hate this, don’t you?” Mariella says.
“Yes. It’s too much.”
“It’s not enough,” Abella argues. “I don’t even want you staying here alone knowing Marco could come back whenever he feels like it.”
“I could make sure he never does,” Mariella offers.
I laugh, even though I know she’s dead serious.
“I’m not sure we’re there yet,” I tell her. “Besides, I think Cristian might have something to say about that.”
“Well, from what Angelo told me, Cristian nearly took care of it last night,” Abella says. “He would have if Angelo hadn’t stopped him.”
Admittedly, the details surrounding that part of the night are a little fuzzy. I remember the basic sequence of events, but I was also drunk and exhausted at that point. Now I have to wonder if Cristian resents me for inadvertently putting him in that position.
“Don’t feel guilty,” Mariella says, seemingly aware of where my thoughts are going. “Marco only has himself to blame for the consequences of his actions.”
“Do you think he and Cristian will reconcile?” I ask.
“Not a chance in hell.” Mariella shakes her head. “From the sounds of it, their friendship was hanging on by a thread as it was. My brothers don’t associate with men like that.”
I nod, because I know she’s right that Marco is the only one at fault here. But I still don’t like the fact that I was the final straw in this scenario.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come stay on the island?” Abella presses. “We have plenty of room, and you can’t find a safer place than that.”
“I appreciate it.” I offer her a weak smile. “But I need to be in the city. I have a tight schedule as it is with work and all the things that involves. I’ll be okay here.”
“When are you going back to the club?” She frowns.
“Tomorrow.”
She nods, but I can tell she’s still worried about me, which is exactly why I didn’t want them knowing. The only thing she should be focused on right now is the baby that will be arriving soon, and I don’t want her to stress.
“Speaking of work.” Mariella peers at me over the rim of her coffee cup. “Have you ever considered teaching dance classes? We could help you put the word out.”
“Oh, yes, I love that idea,” Abella chimes in. “We could market it as the perfect gift for husbands. Secret lives of Society wives.”
Mariella laughs. “Honestly, that’s kind of genius.”
“I’ve actually been thinking about it since our class,” I admit. “But it’s a little terrifying not having a guaranteed income.”
“Well, we can diversify,” Abella proposes. “What other genres of dance do you know?”
“Tap, ballet, jazz, and ballroom.” I list them off with a shrug.
Abella blinks, probably wondering why I’ve never shared that before. “Okay, well that’s like four extra classes right there. Plus you could branch out, like dance workout classes. Or an app. Those are really popular, and I bet Romeo could help us set it up.”
I smile at her enthusiasm, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that’s dreaming too big for me. Because whatever I do, I have to stay under the radar. Local dance classes are one thing, but putting myself out there for the world to see is another.
“Take some time to think about it,” Mariella suggests. “When you’re ready, we’ll help you come up with a plan.”
I thank her, and as the men finish their work, we wrap up our conversation.
When Angelo and Abella leave, Mariella and I take a seat on the front porch stairs for a quiet moment. She seems hesitant to go, and I can’t help but love her for it. Among her many other positive attributes, she’s the best friend I could ever ask for.
“I could come stay with you if you want,” she offers. “Or we could both stay at the penthouse.”
“I don’t think your brothers would approve of you being here. And besides, they’ve already gone to all the trouble of making my house safe.”
“Well, you may not be thrilled about it, but it makes me feel better,” she says. “At least now your creepy stalker can’t get anywhere near you without us knowing about it.”
“Creepy stalker?”
The question startles both of us, and when we turn around and find Cristian in the doorway, Mariella curses under her breath.
“I’m sorry.” She winces. “I didn’t realize he was there.”
Cristian ignores her, his gaze focused on me as he waits for an answer. He’s already done too much, and I really didn’t need him to know about this, but I can’t change it now. My only option is to downplay it.
“It’s not a big deal. Just an overly attentive customer from the club.”
“What’s his name?” he counters.
Well, crap. He has me there. When I swallow, he knows it too.
“He’s just a customer.”
Cristian stares at me with that quietly dominant energy, waiting for me to explain further. He has this way of making me feel like if I don’t answer him, I’ll be in trouble, and not the bad kind.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but these thoughts seem to be catching fire. Then I remember his rejection last night, and that sobers me up real quick.
I turn to Mariella, and she seems to understand I need an exit strategy.
“You should probably get some rest,” she says. “I have to head out too.”
We stand, and she gives me a quick hug as we say our goodbyes. As her guard escorts her to the car, she gives me one last little wave.
“Call me if you need me.”
I nod and turn around, breezing right past Cristian as I make a beeline for my bedroom.
Shutting the door behind me, I toss the throw blanket aside and pad to the bathroom. After turning on the shower, I reach for the hem of my tank, ready to strip down. But in the process, I catch sight of Cristian in the doorway, and I choke on a startled squeak.
He’s pure menace as he backs me against the wall, bracing his palm above my head and lifting my gaze to his with his other fingers. He looks like he wants to throttle my ass, and the image of that scenario burns itself in my mind, sending a rush of heat down my spine.
“Give me a name.” His voice is calm, but absolute.
I swallow, and he tracks the movement with his eyes, all the way down to my rapidly beating pulse. His gaze lingers there for a moment before dipping lower, to my hardened nipples scraping against the thin fabric of my tank.
Darkness pools in his eyes as my breath grows shallow, and I know I’m not imagining the electricity between us now.
I drink in the sight of him, and it’s impossible to miss the rigid set of his muscles or the brutal hardness straining beneath his trousers.
It’s wildly inconvenient, considering I swore I wouldn’t indulge this thought again.
I can only be grateful he’s holding himself back, because right now, I’d probably let him teach me a very good lesson.
None of this makes sense, but I know there has to be a simple explanation. He’s had it out for me for a while, and his body is channeling all that pent-up irritation into the idea of a good old-fashioned hate fuck.
We can’t go there, and we both know it. So I just need to end whatever the hell is happening right now.
“I can’t give you a name,” I answer breathlessly. “So if you don’t mind—”
I try to slip away, but he places his other palm on the wall beside my head, caging me in with his extraordinarily large body. It’s hard not to look at that crisp white shirt stretching across his broad chest, or his ridiculously hot forearms flexing beside me.
Lord, give me strength.
We maintain an uncomfortable level of eye contact as the low, rough cadence of his words set me on fire.
“This is your one and only chance to tell me what I want to know. If you don’t, there will be consequences.”
My mind goes straight to the gutter, and I consider how bad the consequences could really be. But then I realize how insane this is.
“Look, I get that this is what the Vitales do.” I gesture to my living room, where they’ve completely taken over my house. “But I’m not property of the Cosa Nostra. You can’t control me.”
A dark smile teases his lips as he releases me from the prison of his arms and takes a step back.
He doesn’t even have to say anything. That look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know.
He can, and he will.
Wordlessly, he leaves the bathroom, and I stare after him as my mind reels. Maybe I shouldn’t have provoked him, because it would take very little for him to upend my life if he felt like it.
One call from him could terminate my employment and break my lease.
I don’t want to think Cristian would do any of that, but the Vitale men aren’t exactly known for being well-adjusted.
Romeo orchestrated an elaborate plan to move Gabi out of her apartment and into their penthouse so he could stalk her up close.
And Angelo—well, he disappeared his twin brother and took his place at the altar to marry Abella.
Calling them anything less than unhinged would be generous.
As I step into the shower with that thought rattling around my mind, there’s only one question that remains.
How far will Cristian go to prove his point?