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I informed Damon and Dominic I would visit Keira alone; besides I could handle her smart mouth.
“You wanted to speak to me, so speak,” I say, leaning back on the couch.
“You know I was never much of a talker.” She says smiling at me.
“What is it you want?” I say, rolling my eyes.
“You,” she says leaning in to kiss me, but I push her back. “Don’t you remember the conversation we had in Capri?” I say irritably.
“I do, yet here you are. If you’re so happy with Miss Priss, why are you sitting in my apartment?”
“Good question. You told me your father had information but clearly, I was misinformed,” I say, standing up to leave, but she stops me.
“Stay the night.”
“No,” I say, pushing her aside, but she doesn’t budge.
“Fuck me then, like you used to. There was a time you couldn’t get enough of me. I won’t tell if you don’t. What else do you have to lose?”
For a brief second, I contemplate fucking her, but within the moment of me doing that, I realize it isn’t what I want at all. A short minute of self-gratification would take the edge off everything, but in the long run, it would be a disaster and I would be filled with regret. Although my marriage was all but over, I didn’t want Keira either. I don’t want any woman and the one I do want is firmly out of bounds despite whatever existing feelings may still have for her.
“I’ll pass. What information do you have?” I ask bluntly.
“Sit down. Let me take your jacket,” she says, giving me a wide smile.
“For what?”
“So, I can hang it up. Goddamn, Rocco, did you grow up in a barn?”
“Since when did you become Miss Congeniality?” I say, giving her the jacket. “I know exactly how much money is in my wallet, so don’t get any fucking ideas. I know you too well.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replies daintily walking off.
“What kind of information is this? I thought your father was…indisposed.”
“He is. I’ve been helping him,” she says slowly.
“I didn’t know that was your forte.”
“You’d be surprised at what talents I have.” She says, smiling even wider.
“I’ll bet,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“You know what day it is, right?” She says, walking over to me.
“It’s Friday,” I say, irritated.
“It’s Valentine’s Day.” She says seductively.
“Keira,” I snap, “what is the information?”
“It’s in here. My father told me to hide it,” she says, leading me to the bedroom.
“Where is it then?” I say peering around.
“Right here,” she says, shrugging off her dress and kneeling down in front of me.
Before I can protest, she unbuckles my belt and unzips my pants, I try to shake her off, but her hands stay firm. I look up in frustration and see Sophia standing at the entrance of the door. I can see the pain in her eyes, piercing through me like a lightning bolt as tears start to flow down her face.
