Page 4 of Lust


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Oh, now I’m Milana. Not Millie. He really has changed.

“Same to you, Salvatore.”

His brow arches slightly, a smile tugging at his lips. Two can play that game. He releases my hand, the warmth still on my fingers. That warmth is quickly replaced by a chill when Stefano grasps my hand, raising it to his lips the same way he did my mother. I fight the urge to snatch away, my skin crawling.

Stefano Moretti will always be the villain in my eyes?the man who treated Sal like crap, often humiliating him in front of me and anyone else. Not once when we were growing up did he compliment Salvatore. Not once did he tell him he was proud or loved him. I doubt he’s even capable of that emotion.

“Mr. Moretti.”

He smiles, and I hate to admit he’s a handsome man. Same wavy hair as Salvatore, only kempt. Dark, piercing eyes. His personality ruins his good looks, though.

“Call me Stefano.”

Nope. Not going to do that. I will never be on a first-name basis with Stefano Moretti. Rather than tell him that, I simply smile back, easing my hand away.

We take our seats at the table, my father at one end, and Stefano taking my mother’s usual seat at the other. Without faltering, my mother goes to sit beside my father. I walk around the table, sitting across from her. Salvatore stops at the chair beside his father, then walks around and pulls out the chair beside me.

This man is certainly no longer the shy boy I once called my best friend. He’s bold. Arrogant. The sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.

4

Salvatore

My father thwarts Riccardo’s every attempt to talk business. Riccardo brings up the underground casino we opened last month, and my father comments on how delicious the salmon is. Riccardo suggests adding a menu to the casino, my father asks for the fucking salmon recipe. It’s damn near humorous.

“Studies show eating boosts endorphins. If you’re feeling good, chances are you’ll be willing to spend more money,” Milana comments. “Besides, beautiful servers add to the appeal.”

Riccardo glares at his daughter, shocked she’s spoken up. My father ponders her suggestion, slowly nodding. I’ve suggested this exact thing on numerous occasions. Who the hell opens a casino and doesn’t provide food? My father, that’s who. No one has complained, but they wouldn’t.

“I’ll consider it.”

Same thing he’s told me. They aren’t there to eat. They’re there to win money. For the majority, to lose it.

“Riccardo, sounds like you need to appoint Milana as your business advisor,” my father teases. “She certainly has a good head on her shoulders.”

“Yes, she does,” Riccardo agrees.

I can only recall one time in my life when my father seemed proud of me. Once. That was after I lost my virginity. He came into the bedroom while she was getting dressed, placed his hand on my shoulder, and said ‘good job.’

Just once, it would be nice to be told I had a good head on my shoulders, that I bring great ideas to the table.

“We should include dessert. Coconut cake, maybe,” I suggest, arching an eyebrow at my father.

“I love coconut cake,” Milana says.

“It’s on the menu tonight,” her mother informs us. “Our chef makes a decadent coconut cake with meringue filling.”

“I’m sure it’s to die for,” my father replies dryly. “Milana, tell me what brought

you back to Birmingham. Weren’t you in school up north somewhere?”

“I missed the south. Missedmi casa.”

She’s lying. When we were kids, we always talked about moving away. Heading off to the west coast or up north to the concrete jungle. Home to Italy or Brazil. Any country. Anywhere but here.

Milana came back because her father is getting ready to make a

move. He wants everyone here who could have a stake in it. No doubt, being his only heir, Milana has a huge stake.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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