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Her voice is low, but it’s loud enough for both Jezebel and I to hear. “I need the restroom. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He presses a kiss to her cheek, releasing her, and I notice the way she watches me as she strides by on those high heels. Her body has filled out in some places, but the curve of her ass is still like a drug to me. I can’t drag my gaze from the way her hips sway.

“Let’s get something to drink,” Jezebel tells me.

“Why don’t you get me a Scotch? I need to make a phone call,” I inform her, hoping she’ll leave me alone long enough for me to get the truth out of Giuliana. There must be a reason why she’s here, and if I find out she’s chosen this fucking asshole over me, I’m going to enjoy killing him even more.

Pulling out my phone, I hit dial on a number I should’ve called before I stepped foot inside this house. It rings twice, thrice, and by the time it reaches voicemail, I’m frustrated.

My fingers tangle in my unruly hair, and I make my way into the house. I know the floor plan like the back of my hand and find the bathroom easily, but she’s not there. Quickly moving through the hallway, I glance in every room until I find one with the door closed.

I don’t knock. I don’t need to because I smell her. The familiar sweet scent of Giuliana is evident in the air surrounding me. Shoving open the door, I find her on the bed, sitting, staring at her hands. Her hair hangs down, framing her pretty heart-shaped face.

When she hears me step into the space, her gaze lifts slowly. Once more, silence is our friend. Gripping me painfully, and I can’t breathe. I need to pull in air, but my lungs refuse to work the moment she rises.

“What are you doing with her?” Her question turns my beast loose, rabid and feral. It growls at the woman I want to pin on that pretty little bed and fuck until she’s screaming my name.

“Excuse me?” Arching a brow, I cross my arms in front of my chest, waiting for her to explain herself. She’s the one here with the asshole I’m about to murder, and she’s asking why I’m here with Jezebel?

“You’re . . . You’re . . .” She waves her hand around, at a loss for words, and I can’t deny how beautiful she looks all confused and angry. Her jealousy burns in those blue depths, with a flame of pain which threatens to burn me alive.

“I’m here with Sergio’s sister, but then, you’re the one here draped all over the asshole,” I bite out in frustration. Stalking toward her, I note the fear flickering in her wide eyes. “Was that why you asked your daddy to tell me you’re becoming a nun?” I tip my head to the side, leaning into her personal space, not waiting for her to respond because my body is vibrating with rage so fierce I could slam my fist through the fucking wall. “I think you’re mistaken about how this works, Giuliana. Being a nun means you keep your legs closed.”

“Fuck you!” she spits. Her tiny hand is flying through the air to slap me, but I’m faster. “I’m here because I ran, and he was the one who was there for me,” she announces, venom lacing every word, causing me to calm somewhat. She tugs her hand free from my grip, and just this time, I allow her freedom.

“Ran?” I chuckle at her confession. “Ran into Sergio’s fucking arms?” My retort is filled with anger, and I know I need to calm the fuck down, but seeing her with another man woke the monster inside, and he wants to play.

My phone rings in my pocket, breaking the tension in the room, and I know I need to take this. If I don’t, he’ll track me. I pull my cell out and tap the answer key.

“Arthur,” I answer, causing Lia’s eyes to widen in shock. She shakes her head, and tears appear in those pretty blues. They shimmer, and I’m tempted to make them fall, to see them trickle down her cheeks so I can lick them off and taste her sadness.

“What do you need, Lance?”

“I’m at Sergio’s,” I inform him. All the while, my sweet princess starts trembling as if she’s going into shock. “I just wanted to check in.”

“Good. I’ll see you in a few days,” he orders, hanging up before I have time to say anything more.

“Lance, please,” Giuliana pleads. “Don’t tell him I’m here. He doesn’t know.”

“You really think your father doesn’t know you’re hanging off the arm of the man downstairs?” I question incredulously. “Don’t be fucking stupid, baby girl.” Shaking my head, I turn toward the door. Stopping on the threshold, I glance at her over my shoulder. “Whatever you’re doing with Sergio Ramos will end tonight.”

And then I walk out without waiting for her to respond. I hear the soft footfalls of her heels on the carpet. I don’t slow down, and I know she’s trying to catch up to me, but my chest is tight with frustration and anger. Jealousy burns through my veins when I think about the months I spent looking for her, and she was here, playing house with this asshole.

Her hand on my arm burns when she reaches for me, finally getting a grip on me. “Lance, wait. You don’t underst—”

“Lia, take your fucking hand off me before I lose my shit in front of your boyfriend,” I growl, low and feral, and she pulls back as if she’s been burned. I should listen to her, something deep in my gut tells me that, but when I’m in this mood, I need space.

I head down to the patio to find Jezebel, who immediately drapes herself over my arm, handing me my Scotch. She doesn’t ask where I was, but she doesn’t need to. A moment later, Giuliana rejoins the party looking like her puppy was run over.

Too fucking bad.

She chose him over me.

I turn to the woman beside me and pull her in for a kiss. Our tongues duel, and I feel the icy blue glare pinned on me. She’s firing flames my way, and I know she’s trying to burn me to ash.

Giuliana

I’ve never felt rage the way it burns through my veins as it does right now. The moment his lips touch hers, I fist my hands, causing my nails to dig into the flesh of my palm.

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