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“Nora,” Conrad’s voice carries down from the deck. “Are we to starve here, woman?”
Nora rolls her eyes. “We’re coming.”
“I’m so glad you broke the unhealthy streak. It would be so much fun to attend events with you rather than those personality-less types.”
I smile, agreeing with her while knowing we might not share time together ever again. We carry the food outside.
Shimmering sea and fairy lights accentuate the beauty of the night. The dinner is a lovely affair. We eat and laugh. The dynamics between Gio and Conrad are too much. With the help of wine, I relax enough to enjoy myself.
Gio is as relaxed as he was in St. Martin. It’s bittersweet to watch. A part of me wishes Nora didn’t tell me about Kimberly, but I’m grateful to know. To understand better.
Without realizing, I became another Kimberly when I took his money. No wonder he hates me. As we say our goodbyes and board the chopper, I squeeze Gio’s hand.
He could give me so much more if he wanted to break the walls he maintains with such vigor. But he won’t, and now I understand I can’t have his respect or his trust. Let alone his love.
I deserve better.
Chapter32
Gio
Atear rolls down Mila’s cheek. I wipe it and pull her closer. I forgot she might still be traumatized by flying in a helicopter. Idiot.
Conrad and Nora adored her. Everyone adores her. My family, my friends, my employees, her employees. Even a fucking Italian asshole who is hoping to get into her pants. If he hasn’t yet. Fuck.
When I found her giggling with him, I wanted to burn the fucking town down. She’s mine.
Only she isn’t. Clearly she doesn’t even care to offer fidelity in return for my money. By the time we land, I’m sweating with frustration and anger.
I need to keep as far from her as possible. That’s the only way this arrangement will work. I’ll call Fatima to redraft the prenup to include fidelity, and then we’ll conduct ourselves according to our deal. For social obligations only.
And let my cock fall off. Fuck. Meeting Mila Ward, getting close to her, was the worst thing I’ve ever done. I can’t undo it now.
Conrad asked me tonight if I’m sure Mila needed me to sweeten the deal, because he feels she would have been with me regardless.
I almost punched him.
We arrive at the villa that used to be my safe haven. Now it’s full of Mila. Her music, her swaying hips, her gorgeous, wet, half-naked body, those perceptive indigo eyes, her constant chatter and her giggles.
Every night I fist my cock and ask myself why the fuck do I still plan to go ahead with the wedding?
Every night I come imagining her. And I can’t stand the idea of not knowing where she is. What she does. If she’s doing okay. I’ve become a stalker. Fantastic.
I pour myself a glass of whiskey and almost drop it when I realize Mila is behind me. Deep in my thoughts, I assumed she had disappeared into her room.
“Can I have a glass of wine?” she asks, as if she wasn’t drinking it freely before tonight. She doesn’t need my permission.
“Chianti?” I offer, because she fell in love with the local wine. I fucking notice everything about her. I wish I didn’t.
She nods and saunters outside. My cock twitches. I’ve never been in an impossible situation. I can always find a solution to any problem.
Mila is a fucking unsolvable paradox. It’s not even her fault. I’m frozen between rationally knowing we have to break up and being unable to quit her.
I join her on the terrace and put her wine in front of her. She has her feet on the chair in front of her, her skin glistening in the warm night.
“I love it here. It’s so peaceful and beautiful.” She raises the glass to her lips. Full, and so sweet. Mine, but not mine.
“Clearly you’ve been enjoying yourself,” I quip.
