Page 25 of His Pet

“I’m sorry we’re late. She kept fighting with the makeup lady.”

I look Amelia in the eyes, hers searching mine for something I can’t quite figure out, while speaking to my right-hand man. “I’m fully aware whose fault it is, Joe. Thank you for bringing her.”

Joe walks away, knowing he doesn’t need a dismissal. He’s worked for me since I became a capo a decade ago. He knows me well.

“You look beautiful, Kitty.”

There’s no animosity in her expression this time when I call her by her despised nickname. She darts her eyes to the guests slowly circling her, their voices drawing her attention.

Her eyes are wide, and her lips are parted. She meets my gaze again and steps within inches of me, her face hidden by my chest. She’s using me as a shield from the prying eyes, and for a moment, I want her to. I want her all to myself, back at my place and in my bed. Not a reaction I would expect to have for someone foolish enough to use me for safety, but I guess I wouldn’t know considering this is a first.

Anyways, she wouldn’t be like this at home. Her claws would be out. She wouldn’t be using me,meas a shield. This is the most afraid I’ve seen her.

I pivot behind her and place my hands on her hips, guiding her a foot in front of me. Her shaking intensifies, and I’m struck when she doesn’t try to shove my hands away. Maybe she’s more concerned with covering herself.

I run my hands up her sides and back down to her hips. She shudders violently but doesn’t push me away.

“Gentleman,” I address the room, then nod at the few wives in attendance, seeming just as eager as their husbands. “Ladies.”

“I’d like to introduce a very special guest. This is Kitty.”

A few people chuckle at the nickname and others come toward her. I let my hands fall from her hips and she looks back at me for reassurance. I don’t know what she wants me to reassure her of, but my five percent white-knight soul wishes I could.

What the hell is this feeling? It isn’t pity. That, she will never get from me.

Victor, unsurprisingly, is the first to approach her. He tells her it’s nice to see her again and flashes her a devilish smile before running a hand over her shoulder. He’s pushing it, but I expect nothing less from him.

“Respond, Kitty. Don’t be rude.”

“Nice to see you too,” she squeaks out, her eyes intensely trained on the floor. She’s so much more obedient right now. It’s fascinating.

People introduce themselves to Amelia one by one, shaking or kissing her hand. Settimo hangs back and watches, and Anthony slips in and stands next to him. I pull out my phone to check the time. Twenty minutes late, so for Anthony, right on time.

Anthony is the good soul in the family. He isn’t here for fun. He’s here to make sure things aren’t taken too far. It’s one thing to kill someone, and is often necessary. Dehumanizing women, however, is a line Anthony wouldn’t cross.

Amelia gradually inches backward with each person until she bumps into me. She springs forward and looks back in astonishment, her bug eyes making me laugh. Apparently, my erection is even more terrifying than the men surrounding her.

After everyone has greeted the guest of honor, the servers arrive with near perfect timing. The guests shuffle to their respective tables. Mine is at the head of the room, with only two other chairs at it. One of them was meant for Joe, but he takes a seat by Blade at another table after spotting Settimo.

“Come, Kitty,” I say, nodding toward the table Settimo and Anthony have already taken their seats at.

Amelia’s eyes dart between them and me. She totters close to me, her eyes imploring me in a way that flushes a fresh wave of lust through me.

“Lorenzo.” She whispers even though no one is near us, and they’re more interested in their own conversations than they are of her now.

“What?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything further.

“I’m sorry for today. I swear I will never do anything like that again. I-I’ll do everything you say.”

“That’s good to hear, Kitty. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. Now,” I gesture to the table. “It’s time to eat.”

“Please.”.

I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath, feigning frustration. It’s how my mother responds when she’s irritated, but that isn’t the case for me right now. I really just want to breathe Amelia in. All of her. Her natural scent, her fear, her hope. I never could’ve predicted the girl who managed to take the one thing I cherish in this world could become something so desirable to me herself.

“Okay,” she says before I open my eyes. I blink and find her with her head down and her shoulders hunched. Submissive. I like this even more than her fight.

I turn and walk to my table, and she follows me like a good little pet. I take my seat, and she stands there awkwardly, searching for another chair while skillfully avoiding eye contact with Anthony or Settimo. Me, she makes eye contact with. She looks at me with the silent question in her eyes, and I point to the floor beside me.

Her face turns somber, defeated, as she kneels on the marble floor next to my chair. She moves her hands from her chest to cover the slit in her skirt. Anthony makes a point not to look at her, but Settimo, seated on her other side, stares unabashedly.

Salads are dropped off at our table, and at all the others, and I begin eating. I ignore Amelia’s prying eyes. She must be famished after having not touched her breakfast or lunch today. I had her brought a piece of chicken for lunch, and it sat untouched. Maybe it’s cruel. I don’t know. But I’d love to know how far she’s willing to go to deny herself the nutrition nature intended her to have.

Hopefully, she isn’t as stubborn as she looks.

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