She’s welcome to fly down those stairs and strike me if she likes. Whatever I’ve done to earn her ire, I’m more than ready to double the offense.
The sharp click of a cane against marble cuts through the heightened tension. Massimo descends the staircase, eventually coming to a halt a few feet away. His daughters follow.
"Alessandro," he says, his voice gravelly. "You haven’t met all my daughters."
He turns slightly toward them.
"Of course, you know Camilla. Your bride-to-be."
Camilla offers a forced, brittle smile. I offer nothing but a curt nod in return.
"And this," Massimo continues, "is Daniela. My youngest."
"Good morning," Daniela says, her smile looking just as strained as her sister’s.
I give another nod. It’s all I’m capable of right now.
“And this is Sienna.”
The fiery one.
Now that she’s closer, the warm hazel of her eyes does something treacherous to my head—and my cock. Thankfully, my briefs are doing a damn good job of keeping my reaction hidden.
I never forget a face, and something tells me I’ve seen hers before. The other sisters are beautiful in a conventional sense, but Sienna is beautiful in a more specific way I prefer. I can’t explain the pull, and I hate that I can’t.
My lips deliberately curl into a smirk, and I watch with satisfaction as her eyes explode into a private inferno. Beneath my slacks, I harden further.
There’s a problem here.
Between the masked woman from last night and Sienna, my cock is acting like a stray. I’ve always been a man of discipline; I don’t know why my body’s rebelling now. Maybe because I haven’t had sex in two weeks. I should rectify that today.
Massimo gestures with his cane toward the sitting area in the foyer.
“Let’s have a seat. I have a feeling this is important.”
He claims a single armchair while the three sisters crowd onto the larger sofa. My eyes trail back to Sienna, savoring the way she can't seem to look away from me either.
A sudden, vivid image flashes through my mind. Of Sienna on her knees, those wide, glistening eyes looking up at me while I fuck her throat. The thought is so violent, that a curse slips past my teeth out loud. I plunge right into my business before I embarrass myself any further.
“I’m here regarding the marriage scheduled for next month.”
From the corner of my eye, I see the sisters’ hands find each other, their fingers locking tight.
Do they think I’m about to call it off? I’m sure that would make them ecstatic.
“I didn’t peg you as a man who went back on his word, Alessandro,” Massimo says, his voice like grinding stones. “We had a deal. You marry my daughter.”
I nod. “I’m not going back on my word. I want the wedding moved up. Instead of next month, I want to marry your daughter in two weeks.”
A strangled cry erupts from the sofa. It’s Camilla. Her sisters immediately converge on her, holding her as she begins to fall apart.
I notice Massimo doesn't even glance in her direction. A father shouldn’t be so desensitized to his daughter's pain, but I’d be a pretentious bastard if I claimed to care. I didn't exactly grow upbathed in fatherly love and I sure as hell don’t care how Massimo distributes his.
Massimo gives a single, sharp nod. “I agree.”
“Of course, you agree.”
It’s Sienna. I finally turn, and she’s so fucking glorious as she glares at me. I’ve killed men for less, and yes, I want to punish Sienna’s insolence, too, but not with death.
