Page 3 of Vicious Rule

With a big smile, Andre nods. “Got it. So you’ll be there tonight?”

“Yep, like always.”

He walks away, pleased by my answer, while I feel even more misery fill me. I don’t want to stand around looking pretty while Alex and everyone else enjoy themselves. I’m not sure why he forces me to attend his orgies, but I hate it.

If only I could hate him.

The villa looks different tonight, almost as if Alex is expecting someone important and not just the usual cavalcade of easy women and men who want to get some. As I stand on the balcony off the main room where the orgies are always held, I look around and see he’s had little twinkly lights hung that give the place an almost magical feel.

“I wonder why he’s trying to make it look like this,” I quietly say before turning around to look out at the walk below filled with people moving toward the front door.

The decorator, who I’m relatively sure was his bedmate during the job, did a lovely job here. Traditional arches and columns make it look like a villa from the days of the Roman Empire. I can imagine great men like Julius Caesar calling it home.

Although I never thought of myself as a fan of tan, rust, brown, and orange, her mixture of those hues make this villa a breathtaking home. Add to that the ivory Venetian plaster and moldings layered on top of the warm tones and dark wood floors and it’s simply stunning.

Of course, he always chooses the main room to entertain guests because of the cream colored marble tile floor and honey tone limestone marble fireplace in there he loves to show off. My mouth dropped open in amazement at how gorgeous that room is the first time I saw it.

I’ll say this for him. The man has impeccable taste.

From behind me, Alex answers my question, although I doubt he heard me. “What do you think of the villa tonight? I told the new decorator I wanted something special since we have someone new coming to be with us.”

I spin around, surprised to hear about this new addition since Alex told me nothing about anyone but those on the guest list attending. “Someone new? You didn’t mention that when we met this afternoon. Who?”

Alex grins like the cat who swallowed the canary. He loves when he catches me off-guard. It gives him some kind of odd thrill I don’t understand.

“Intrigued? Good. I like that.”

As I look him up and down to make sure he’s ready for guests, I sigh, frustrated he still hasn’t given me this new person’s name. Is it a new woman? That would make sense. If it was a man, he would have put him on the list.

Picking a piece of lint off his black suit coat, I roll my eyes. “It’s not a good idea to keep your right hand in the dark. We’re supposed to work as a team, but that can’t happen if you don’t tell me what I need to know.”

He steps back away from me and lets his gaze wander down my body and then up to my face, clearly admiring my new red dress that hugs all my curves like a glove. With a grin, he says, “You pulled out all the stops tonight, Sasha. Good. Our new guest deserves it.”

“And this new guest’s name is…?”

Alex shrugs and then slides his arm around my waist to pull me to him. “I’ll tell you on one condition.”

I hate when he’s playful and all I want is a straight answer. It irritates me to no end.

“And what would that condition be?”

Alex sets his hands on each side of my face. “That you smile. I can’t have you looking miserable when my guests are here.”

“Perhaps it would be better if I skipped tonight then because I have no inclination to smile.”

“Why? What is there not to smile about? You live in this beautiful villa, you have the best boss in the world, and tonight you get to meet someone new. I’d say you have a lot to smile about.”

At the moment, none of those things are making me feel happy enough to crack a smile. Maybe living here, but since that means I have to deal with Alex and his nonsense, it might not be a good thing after all.

“Fine. I’ll smile. Happy?” I ask as I plaster a fake smile on my face.

“No. I want a real one.”

I bite my tongue so I don’t say something I might regret later, instead asking the same question I asked earlier. “Who is this new guest, Alex?”

Bracing myself to hear an Italian female’s name, I’m surprised when he says, “Nico Olivetti. Still feel like frowning?”

Unsure why he thinks that name would make me happier, I wait to hear more about this new person in his circle, but he says nothing. All he does is stare at me and smile.

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