Page 26 of Risky Vows

I went out with Anthony by my side and bought a new lingerie. I've never bought anything sexy like this before. And having Anthony a few feet from me as I roamed the shop wasn't the best, but I couldn’t help the relief, knowing that a crap human being like Ugo was no longer alive.

He never gave James a chance.

And wherever James is, I bet he's happy that Ugo paid for what he did.

I bite my lower lip. I don't know if James would be happy to know I bought the sluttiest lingerie for my new husband, but he was so generous when he was alive that I prefer to believe he'd have wanted me to move on.

Besides… what I shared with James was beautiful and pure. With Massimo, it's different. It's intense, dark, and unreasonable. Because it's so different from what I shared with James, I can explore this connection with Massimo without having to choose.

I'm wearing a white robe to cover the black corset underneath. It hugs my curves, and my tits are about to pop out due to the very low cut. I pair it with lacy underwear and stockings.

What an irony to wear the white fluffy robe to conceal the sexiness underneath. I've never felt this sexy before, even with James. I felt pretty with him, cherished, and hopeful. But Massimo has access to a part of me I never knew existed. It's fiery, latent, and daring.

I was worried about him seeing me naked, and the last time we had sex, he somewhat did. Now, I want him to see all of me. I'm no longer worried about not being perfect, about not being thin enough for a man like him.

These worries pale compared to what I'd miss out on if I didn't explore this… different side of me. Because these moments are all we have. With my family's expectations about this marriage, my brother's possible return, and my insecurities about Massimo possibly straying on me… with all that lurking in the background, we have a slight chance at a lasting marriage. I don't want to be done yet.

I want to be with him—in the only way I can.

I put together a charcuterie board and some other hot appetizers. We can chat and then fuck. Drink something. Whatever he wants to do.

Excitement sinks into me, hitting all the way to the core. Here I am, horny as fuck because a man killed another for me. Well, I'm assuming.

I never thought I'd be the kind of person who would admire something like that. I never hurt a fly, and for two years, I tried to be a vegetarian mainly because of the animal cause. So, I'm not a monster.

Massimo finally enters through the garage, which means he drove himself. Guards are outside, and I take care to draw all the curtains. Dim the lights. Play low-key 90s R&B music in the background.

"Hey," he says, walking in. His face gives nothing away as he strolls through while scanning the room. "Are we expecting anyone?"

"I put the charcuterie together. Colleen had an appointment. She had to leave early."

"Okay." He removes his jacket and puts it aside.

The double-breasted vest clings to his body, along with the crisp shirt underneath. With each step, I see the elegant movement of his muscles through the fabric. Damn. I lick my lips.

"Sit down. What would you like to drink?" I ask with the readiness of a 1950s submissive housewife.

"Scotch."

I go to the wet bar, grab a bottle I've seen him drink from before, and pour some into the tumbler sitting on the round gold tray.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" he asks, sprawling on the couch and pointing at the tumbler in my hand. I've donea generous pour, but I'm not a scotch drinker and never know when to stop.

"Why? If I am? Would you tell me all your secrets?" I give him the tumbler and sit next to him.

He takes a sip. "You couldn't handle all my secrets."

He's probably right. I flush. "How about some of them?"

"Is there anything you want to ask me?" he asks, leaning over to grab a piece of French cubed cheese and popping it in his mouth.

"How was your day?" A pang of nervousness slips into my voice.

"It was a good day," he says, taking another sip of his drink.

I sigh. He's making me work for it. He can sense I want to know what happened. "Good."

He puts a thin slice of prosciutto into his mouth. "Good." He looks at me and traces the outline of my robe with his finger. "What are you wearing underneath?"

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