“Why does that matter?”
“He’s a filthy rich businessman, but I overheard him say something strange on the phone yesterday.”
“What?”
“Something like ‘if any of you leave there, you’ll be dead,’ or something close to that. It didn’t sound like a figure of speech but a serious threat, if you know what I mean.”
She went silent and I could just imagine her, scrunched up hair and furrowed forehead as she pondered what I was saying.
“There’s also security everywhere in the house. I don’t see them outright, but I’m aware of them… and cameras, they’re everywhere.”
“Well, he is wealthy, so the wealthy need a different level of protection…”
“Even so.”
She sighed. “Just in case this call is being monitored, remember what I read in the tabloids?”
“Yeah, I remember. I’m beginning to think your tabloids might be onto something.
“Okay, now I’m even more serious about you leaving.”
“It’s all right. I won’t be staying for long. I’ll have my rendezvous and be on my way.”
She chuckled. “You sound brutal.”
“Well, so is he.”
“That’s my girl. Now you guard your heart Miss Winters. I don’t want you to come crying to me, because I’ll have to go there and chop him into pieces.”
I smiled quietly in response. “I won’t. I promise.”
“Oh, before you hang up, how big is the man’s dong?”
Heat ran up my throat and into my face. “It’ll…um…take a few tries before he’ll be able to slide fully in.”
“Goddamn!” she squealed. “No wonder you can’t wait to bang him.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Have fun and do everything I wouldn’t do,” she t**sed and ended the call.
Davina
Half an hour later, Michele and I were picking out her outfit for the day from her closet of seemingly endless clothes. She decided on a lemon-yellow pinafore, a frilly white blouse and sandals with yellow flowers on them.
Twenty minutes later, we were walking down the grand marble stairs towards the breakfast room. The beautiful hallway was bright with sunlight and I felt positive and uplifted until I saw Zelda coming towards us. A vivid reminder of how she had found me last night played in my head and I cringed with embarrassment.
She, however, behaved as if she could recall nothing untoward. “Good morning, Davina and Michele,” she greeted. “You both go over to the breakfast room and someone will bring your meals over in a second.
Both Michele and I had toast, eggs and bacon. Michele instantly dug into her breakfast.
I mentally ran through her schedule for the day while I ate. “Michele, how well do you speak Russian?”
She looked up briefly from her meal to gaze into my eyes. As though convinced I was asking out of genuine interest, she took out her notebook and wrote on it.
Very well
“Could you say something to me in Russian then?” I urged.
She saw right through me, and rolled her eyes. After a sip of juice, she scribbled once in her writing pad.
Why? You won’t understand.
For a six-year old child she had an amazing vocabulary and admirable intelligence. The benefits of private schools and one-on-one tutoring, I guess.
“I know I won’t understand, but I just wanted to hear what it sounds like.”
Before she could respond, Gabriel appeared at the doorway. My spine automatically straightened and my gaze became fixated on a blob of unmelted b**ter on my toast. He took a seat opposite me. I could smell his aftershave.
His simple breakfast of toast and a couple of fruits was brought to him. Ignoring the food, he took a sip of his black coffee, and over the rim of mug, caught my eyes on his.
Instantly, I looked away. After mentally kicking myself for doing so, I turned fully to him with the blandest smile I could muster. “Morning, Mr. Angelini.”
“Gabriel,” he corrected automatically. His gaze was on me for only a moment before it went over to Michele.
This callous treatment zapped me with anger.
“Michele, how are you this morning? Good?” he asked.
For a few seconds the little girl became as still as a statue. She didn’t meet his eyes. Then she nodded quietly, and returned to her meal.
I wondered at her withdrawal. I’d expected her to be bright and preppy around her devoted uncle. Instead, she was the exact opposite.
It made me turn to watch him, and I was struck once again by just how handsome he was. This morning, his hair was brushed away from his face. At the reminder of the way my hand had pulled on the jet black mass the previous evening, a painful shot of arousal jolted me.
Michele turned to look at me.
I smiled reassuringly at her before returning to my meal, but as I pushed food down my throat, all I could think about was him. The feel of his thick length in my hand, his mouth bet**en my legs… And how he had so easily abandoned me in the middle of the pool.
I had told Charlotte that it was all right, it didn’t affect me, but some part of me still felt hurt. I wanted so badly to get back at him. Right now, dressed in the striped blue vest of his suit… with his arms bulging against his crisp white dress shirt, I wanted to rip it all from him and have him growl out my name. I wanted him wr*pped around my fi**ger. The desire turned to an irrational rage inside me.
“Davina…”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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