Page 17 of Sweet Retribution

I put my thumb in the book and rest it in my lap as I slowly lift my gaze to her. I contemplate telling her I’m married to Stone, which he obviously didn’t tell her. I could tell her I’m a houseguest, a friend of Elena’s. Or I could play along that I am the hired help.

Yes. That would be more fun. Let her complain about me being lazy to Stone. I’d like to see how he deals with her. And me.

“I’m taking a break,” I say, and open my book again.

“I can’t even,” she huffs and goes to the other side of the pool and stretches out on a lounger in the shade.

Maria comes out with a tray of ice water and fresh fruit and sets it by Sebastiana.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” Maria asks.

“Don’t let my ice cubes melt. And turn on some music. It’s morbidly quiet around here. Oh, and tellherto not bother me. Really, though, can’t she read somewhere else?”

I hope Maria doesn’t explain who I am. From what I’ve seen, she and the staff never engage in conversations with Stone or his bodyguards.

Until I befriended Maria, she rarely spoke. She’s still quiet around him. I can’t blame her. He’s intimidating, to say the least, and he’s her employer. I, however, can say whatever the hell I want to him.

There are so many words I want to spew at him, yet I don’t ever want to speak to him again.

The only positive to come out of this betrayal and throwing Sebastiana in my face, is the distraction from Antonio Rossi. He can’t be happy about Stone rescuing me. I shiver thinking about what he’ll do to me the next time he sees me.

Stone needs to get to him first. I’m not naive. I’m sure he and his men have plans on killing my father and Antonio. I’m not so sweet and innocent that I think either can be redeemed. They’ll kill me and my mother in a heartbeat, as soon as they’re done getting what they need from us.

And from what Antonio said to me when he kidnapped me, making an heir for Lorenzo is his only mission. I’d be safe from death for nine months, and then...

Death would be a relief from the physical and emotional abuse he’s sure to make me suffer through. It’s what Lorenzo did to my mother for so many years. Men like that don’t change.

Men like that don’t want to change. I shiver again at the thought of not only Antonio raping me, but giving birth to his child. He’d corrupt the baby and mold him or her to continue his dirty work.

“Oh my god. You did not put bananas in this fruit salad, did you? Take it away.”

I look up and see Sebastiana waving off the crystal bowl of fruit. Maria picks it up and rushes away. Once again, I’m left with Stone’s mistress. She sneers at me across the pool.

I lift a brow and smirk at her before returning to my book. Classic rock music streams out of the speakers. Two weeks ago, Maria and I made a playlist on her phone of our favorite music to cook to.

“What is this shit?” Sebastiana whines.

When Maria returns with a new bowl of fruit, Sebastiana tells her what to play. I can’t hear her request over the music, but a few minutes later, rap music bellows out, and the volume is cranked even higher.

I can’t read with this garbage playing so I put down my book and dive into the pool hoping a few laps will drown it all out. Maybe I’ll annoy Sebastiana enough that she’ll leave. I don’t bother counting my laps and continue swimming until I’m out of breath.

Ignoring the plastic mistress, I climb out of the pool and plop back in my chair. I lower my hat so it covers my face and let the sun dry me. I must have dozed off because now I’m hot, dry, and there’s a shadow looming over me. I can feel the shift from the sun.

I ignore her and pretend like I’m still sleeping.

“Gia.” It’s Stone.

I’m definitely not letting him know I’m awake.

“I need you in my study. Now.”

Nope. No way in hell am I jumping at his command.

“Stone,” I hear Sebastiana purr. She’s moved to my side of the pool. “Let’s go inside and fuck.”

I can’t help how my body tenses. My abs contract and my quads tighten. I don’t move my hat. I don’t speak.

Silence is followed by footsteps walking away. I squeeze my eyes shut and let out an angry sigh. I shouldn’t be angry. I have no claim to Stone, other than a marriage certificate. If it was signed out of love, I could defend my hurt feelings.

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