Page 13 of The Last Vendetta

Once I snuck in, I hustled through the hallways and stuck to the shadows, seeking out the master suite where Rocco would no doubt be resting or preparing to retire.

Maybe it’s too late. He had taken a beating from the Romano guards at the wedding. Rocco Acardi wasn’t fit. He wasn’t that old, either, but he seemed to be one of those leaders who relied too heavily on his men to do all the dirty work. Gio still worked out, but his health complications seemed to linger and matter more than they used to.

I found Rocco too soon. Upstairs, in a lounge room, he was passed out on a couch. No guards stood outside the doors of the drunk man snoring away. Blood had been cleared from his brow. A fat bandage covered the cut. It had to be the half-empty bottle of wine still clutched in his hand that had helped knock him out.

I hesitated, wondering whether I should kill him right here and now.

I could, but the question remained. Should I? He was asleep, vulnerable and out of it. I could walk up and slice his neck. The end.

No. I couldn’t. Not like this. I had to be able to prove to Gio that I could step up and take over the responsibilities now thrust upon my shoulders. Killing Rocco without the proof that he’d murdered Luka wouldn’t do me any good.

If he was the one to poison my brother, only he could confess to the act.

Waking him up would be the best course of action. As I stepped out to do just that, to rouse him and demand answers, guards walked outside. I knew the sound of their steps already. Thudding and heavy. Booted, heavy men. But a woman’s voice went with them.

“I want patrols increased overnight,” Isabella Acardi ordered. “That worthless drunk of mine won’t think to tell you, but I insist on it. On his behalf.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I stayed plastered to the wall until it seemed that they’d gone by. While the risk of more guards would make it trickier to get out, I wasn’t worried. Not yet.

The sound of a door opening at the other end of this suite peeved me. Isabella was likely over there, and if the sound of light footsteps nearing this more open lounge area where Rocco slept were hers, she’d find me in seconds.

Fuck. Dealing with that vapid old woman wasn’t high on my list of things to do. Ever. Rocco was a drunk idiot, but his wife was nasty, cruel and always judgmental, wanting to impress everyone but quick to demand respect she didn’t deserve.

I turned out of the room, escaping into the hall. Before she could find her sleeping husband—or me, spying—I jogged down the long corridor and thought on the fly. I’d need to reroute my escape, but I wasn’t nervous. Adjustments could always be made. I was nimble on my feet, fast and quick-thinking.

Until I opened a pair of doors at the end of the hall, double doors that I could have sworn would lead to a stairwell past an upstairs ballroom. At least that was what I expected from the shape of that side of the mansion.

It wasn’t.

I’d crossed the threshold into a private wing.

Giulia’s wing.

I closed the door behind me, quietly, and still, she was oblivious to the fact that she had a visitor. My arrival made me more of something like a trespasser, but I’d timed it to the best moment possible.

She stood in the middle of her bedroom, pulling her dress off. Smooth, tan skin flexed as she twisted to remove the garment I’d shoved up on the rear patio at the wedding. I’d thrust my fingers under that thin layer of black lace. My hand had gripped that lush ass cheek, revealed with the high arch of her thong.

As she turned, tossing the dress to a cushioned bench positioned before a vanity, she met my gaze.

Fuck me.

I still hadn’t recovered from how we’d been ripped from the hot moment we shared at the wedding.

My lips tingled with a phantom touch from her alluring, sharp-witted mouth. I recalled with clarity how tightly she’d clenched around my fingers, pulsing and throbbing, slick with her juices as I played with her.

And I wanted her all over again.

“Renzo?”

Her voice was just a whisper, one full of surprise and desire. As she lowered her gaze to my crotch, I knew she'd noticed how instantly I was aroused again. The thought of her was enough to make me think of enjoying her submission again. Seeing her forced me to be close to tenting up my pants.

She kept her arms down, not shying away or rushing to cover herself up. Those huge tits stood high and full, taunting me as she stood tall in nothing but a lacy bra and thong. Her legs remained in place, not carrying her to hide at my catching her undressing.

With lust burning in her eyes, no doubt reflecting the way I stared at her, she licked her lips and watched me approach.

“Renzo, what are you doing here?” At the sound of a quick gasp behind her, she spun, finding her sister waking up on a chaise near the window.

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