Amadeo
The ring weighs heavy in the palm of my hand. I’m reminded of that day in the kitchen fifteen years ago when I’d first seen it. Noted the size. The insignia. The matching ring on Lucien’s finger.
Bastian took it from Geno Russo’s corpse before dropping his body facedown in his grave. I don’t know why he took it or why I kept it.
But that doesn’t matter right now. She saw me put it into my drawer last night. And she somehow got out of her room today to take it. She’s clever. Manipulative.
I take her arm and walk her back toward her bedroom. The soldier tasked with guarding her is still standing, smiling at something on his phone. He’s clearly startled when he sees us return.
“What’s your name?” I ask him.
“Anthony, sir.”
“Anthony, did you let my guest out of her room today?”
The answer is written on his face as he scans hers, then turns back to me. “She needed tampons she’d left in your bathroom.”
“Oh, did she?” I turn to Vittoria, who tilts her chin up, not looking at all sorry.
“Yes, sir. I didn’t think you’d want her messing up your things. I stayed with her. She just went in for a minute.”
“So you didn’t leave her alone at all?”
“No, sir.”
“Hm.” I’ll deal with him later. “Go downstairs and get some dinner.”
He clearly senses something is off but nods and scurries away. I open the door and lead Vittoria back inside. Once she’s in, I release her. She walks backward away from me as I stalk to her.
“It’s my father’s ring. It’s not yours.”
“Spoils of war, Dandelion. Everything is mine.” Once she’s got her back to the wall, I set the flat of one hand to her stomach and study her while I consider the best way to manage this. “So you needed tampons?”
She clears her throat as I slide my hand down to her lower belly.
“Got your period since last night?”
“I thought you’d—”
“You thought I keep tampons in my bathroom?” She opens her mouth, but I slip my hand under her dress, and she shuts up. “Do men make fools of themselves often for you, Dandelion?”
I grip her inner thigh and force her legs apart.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m guessing yes. You’re a beautiful woman. A wealthy, connected one. You’re a catch.”
“What the hell are you doing?” She grips my forearm with both hands.
“Me personally? Not so much.” I push the crotch of her panties over and, without preamble, with no ceremony, I push two fingers inside her.
She gasps, hands like claws as she rises on her tiptoes.
“If my fingers come away bloody, then you’ll have proven me wrong. I’ll even take your word for it that you went hunting for tampons in my bathroom and that the ring somehow accidentally dropped into your pocket.” I draw my fingers out and thrust them back in. She whines. The way I’m touching her is very different from last night. “Will I be proven wrong, Dandelion?” I thrust again, unable to resist running a thumb over her clit, which has her squeezing her eyes shut and pressing the back of her head to the wall. “But let’s say they don’t come out bloody,” I say, circling her clit, liking how she looks when she opens her eyes to meet my gaze. Her cheeks flush pink, and there’s an audible shift in her breathing. “Tell me, what do you think I should do with you?”
“I just… I...”
I watch her face, see her eyes darken as the pupils dilate, and watch her small white teeth as they close over her lower lip. That’s what hooks me. Her mouth. How she tasted for our brief kiss at the restaurant.