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With the reminder of what she has done, I push any thought of putting a stop to this aside.
Plastering a smirk on my face, I stride down the hall to where my guest awaits.
Let the games begin.
***
Glancing around the twelve-seat dining table, I smile at a smug, beaming, Gianna with hearts in her eyes. Looking away from her, my gaze lands on my sister. Her face is blank, her lips tight, and I feel the tension radiating from her. I grimace but know full well that no look will make me back down. I’m too far gone now.
Mamma refused to join us for dinner, knowing exactly what I was doing by inviting Gianna here. She played off her refusal by offering to watch Romeo for the evening, but I saw the real reason for her anger and animosity toward me. My jaw clenches. The reason hasn’t arrived yet. In fact she is, I glance down at my watch, fifteen minutes late. Little witch has probably done it on purpose. She knows I expect punctuality.
“Nico,” Gianna purrs, her hand landing on my arm. I resist the urge to pull away from her touch but hold still so she doesn’t suspect anything. “How are things since your papà passed? Rumor has it that you are ruling thefamigliawith an iron fist.” She smirks, a hint of pride in her tone. Bless her little delusional heart. She still thinks that one day she will be my wife. It’s clear she wants nothing more than that. To be my wife would give her the power she craves. Though her papà has influence and money, being Mrs. Marchetti will give her even more – and that’s exactly what a woman like Gianna wants.
“Of course. That’s the only way,” I drawl, lifting my scotch with my free hand and taking a sip.
Her eyes light up with even more interest. She rubs small circles on the forearm of my white dress shirt, her face a picture of seduction and lust. Gianna’s mouth opens only to snap shut when my sister speaks.
“That’s a lovely dress, Gianna. It shows off all your…” Allegra trails, grinning, “all of your assets.” It’s an insult, one Gianna misses.
“Thank you, Allegra.” She beams, completely oblivious to the passive aggressiveness radiating from my sister.
The sound of heels on the tiled floor cuts all conversation. Blood thrums in my veins, everything inside of me sparking to life. She’s here. My littleTesorohas finally decided to grace us with her presence.
Leaning back in my seat, I lace my fingers with Gianna’s. Her eyes snap to me, confusion swimming in them, but I pay her no attention, fixing my gaze on the entrance. I watch as Ocean steps inside the dining room. Her eyes instantly land on me, making my breath catch in my throat. Fuck, she is so beautiful it hurts to look at her. The red dress, that I picked out for her, hugs her body perfectly, accentuating every curve. Her hair is down in long blonde waves, covering her bare shoulders. Her dark lashes are laced with a hint of mascara, and her pouty lips are a shade of red that matches her dress. Christ, I want that lipstick printed all over my cock. She is perfect. Stunning. My cock thickens in my pants as I watch her, and I can no longer deny the effect she has on me when we are in the same room. This need, to throw her over my shoulder, claim her. It. Happens. Every. Fucking. Time.
Without breaking eye contact, I watch as her steps falter when her gaze shifts to Gianna. Her lips purse, eyes bouncing between the two of us before they lock on me. Hurt shines in those blue orbs and I hesitate, only to quickly shove the hesitation away. I have to see this through.
“Who is this, Nico?” The bitchy tone of Gianna’s voice irritates me, and I nearly pull my hand from hers.
Glancing from the pawn beside me back to the little witch in front of me, I smirk. “Don’t worry about her, darling.”
“Jesus,” Allegra whispers under her voice. Pushing her chair back, she stands. “I’m not waiting around to watch this.” She storms from the room, and it only takes seconds for Dante to follow her.
Ocean stays rooted to the spot, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Being the defiant little thing she is, she doesn’t let them fall. Something a lot like pride blooms in my chest but I tamp it down. Her blue orbs drop to where my hand is laced with Gianna’s. Her jaw clenches, lips twisting as something a lot like jealousy flashes in her eyes. I resist the urge to smirk. Mission accomplished. It’s exactly the reaction I wanted out of her. I know these games are juvenile and beneath me, but they need playing if only to show Ocean exactly who is in control here.
“Nico?” Gianna prompts, gripping my hand in a vice grip, like she is never going to let go.
Ocean looks at her, a slight tremble in her voice when she speaks. “Don’t worry. I’m a nobody and I’m leaving.” She glances at me, “You’re a fucking asshole, Nico.” And without another word, she lifts her dress and rushes from the room.
Pulling my hand from Gianna’s, my eye twitches when I stare at the spot she just vacated. I thought I would feel triumphant at getting the reaction I wanted out of her, but all I feel is the emptiness of her absence.
“Nico?” Gianna whines, snapping me from my thoughts.
Pushing out of my chair, I glare down at her, spitting, “Leave.”
Chapter17
Ocean
My feet hit the sand, each step getting heavier, jerkier, and angrier as I run toward the sea. The wind whips through my hair, blowing it all over my face as blind rage, with a hint of jealousy, courses through my body, getting stronger with every moment that passes. I am wound so tight; I feel like I could snap at any second. I want to scream, shout, punch Nico in his perfect face. I want… well, I don’t know what I want.
Grains of sand stick to my feet and between my toes, the feel of it freeing somehow. I can only be thankful that I had the foresight to remove the ridiculously high pumps before I made my hasty exit through the glass sliding doors in the lounge.
I don’t know what I am doing or where I am going, I just know I need space. A minute to myself, to think, without being watched by Nico or his men. Valentina is watching over Romeo which makes me feel a little better about leaving him at the mansion. I trust Nico’s mom with my son, know that she will keep him safe, while I am out here having a complete meltdown.
Hitting the shoreline, I come to a stop when water hits my feet and legs, soaking the bottom of my red dress. My chest heaves from the exertion of my little run, reminding me how unfit I am. I suck in air, trying to catch my breath, but anxiety trickles into my veins, making it difficult. Suddenly the designer dress feels too tight, and I feel like I’m suffocating. Bending at the waist, my hands rest on my thighs. I inhale then exhale, trying to calm the incoming panic attack.
Inhale. Exhale.
