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I rarely give trust so easily and would usually be the one to require the contract, but Rafael has been around for a while, and I’m fond of him. I trust him as much as I trust my brothers. Though we aren’t technically family, he’s the next best thing, and that’s important to the Bramantes.
“Hi.”
I glance to the side at the sound of a small, sweet voice.
“Evening,” I say, turning to face her. She’s a pretty girl. Short, blond, big tits, bright blue eyes. Not my type, but pretty. I enjoy pretty things. Get them when I want them too.
This girl is pretty, but she isn’t add to my collection pretty. Definitely not worth the trouble of a contract.
“I’m Lillian,” she says, extending her hand for me to shake.
A woman who likes to shake hands. How polite. I take it so as to not give her the wrong idea about me. I’m not an imbecile.
“Vincenzo.”
“Not having a good time?” she asks.
“That will start once I’m in a room.”
Her eyes dart across the room and flicker when they land on something—or someone. But before I can follow her gaze to see who she’s looking at, she’s back to staring at me.
I don’t pretend I’m good at small talk. It’s pointless. I’d have preferred to not do all this socializing and wait in the room while the girl is sent in, but of course, that’s not how this works.
“You’re very handsome,” she says, taking a sip of wine.
I force a small smile. “Thank you.”
I reach out to pull on the strand of her hair. “This natural?” I ask.
She runs her hand through it and shrugs. “It is.”
“Everywhere?” I question with a raised brow.
Her cheeks flush. “Yes.”
I nod and sip my scotch.
I don’t like blonds. Don’t like blond pussy hair. I don’t mind the hair, I’m not a fan of the color. I like dark-haired girls, with matching dark pussy hair that I can see and not feel like I’m staring at a prepubescent child.
I glance up, catching sight of Rafael. He, of course, is the exception. Though Rafael’s hair is blond on his head, everywhere else it’s dark—perhaps that’s the difference.
“Lovely visual,” I say as I turn to walk away.
Chapter Three
Jordan
My life has not been a fairytale. Not today, not ever. Well, not unless you compare it to that one story where the girl was locked away in the castle, waiting for her prince to come rescue her.
The only difference is I wasn’t locked away. I chose to stay away because nothing about the outside world appealed to me. And I wasn’t exactly waiting for my prince to come save me, though someone disguised as a prince did show up. Things were good for a short time. Then I realized I was tricked. He wasn’t a prince at all. He was a troll. Or an ogre. Or whatever other terrible creatures live in those perfect little stories. Hell, he was a mix of them all.
Zachary Canvani is great on the outside. Perfect hair. Bright smile. Charismatic, charming, educated. He comes from a wealthy family, one of which my father is fond of, if his disappointment in my abrupt break-up says anything.
Though, my father’s feelings aren’t only about not having Zachary as a son-in-law anymore, but also because grandchildren are no longer on the table. At least, not within the foreseeable future, considering the next time I agree to marry someone, I’ll spend more than a few months getting to know them. I’m not one to make the same mistake twice. At least, I try not to.
My father and I have always been close, but since this break-up with Zach, he’s been different. Distant. Extremely irritable. He goes from not seeing me for days to watching my every move.
I’d thought for sure he would catch wind of where I was going and be furious. Maybe even stop me. His moods have been all over the place. It’s hard to know what I’ll get each day. Surprisingly, he was thrilled I wanted to go out on a Saturday night and didn’t ask questions, even though it was something I’ve never done before.
