Page 23 of Sweet Retribution

“Stone, however...” She raises an eyebrow and the corner of her mouth quirks.

Okay, so she’s not the jealous type. I hadn’t meant to imply anything, but the damage was done. I might as well have some fun with it.

“I imagine Stone has seeneveryonenaked.”

Sebastiana purrs. “And those of us who are blessed to have seen that great ass...”

Nope, nope, nope. Don’t go there.Jealousy does not look good on me, nor will it make these unusual living situations better.

I pick up a pair of twenty-pound dumbbells and press them over my head. I watch her in the mirror as she hikes the hem of her spandex shorts higher and rolls down the waistband until nearly her entire torso is exposed.

Once she’s content with her sexy appearance, she saunters out of the gym. I drop my weights on the rack and wipe my sweaty palms on a towel. I could spend another twenty minutes in here, but I clean up after myself and turn off the music.

Stone’s office door is open. I can’t help the turn of my head as I scan the room. Empty. Good. I can’t handle a Stone conversation right now. I make it to my room unnoticed, change into a modest bikini, and find a cover-up in my closet.

The house is still quiet as I make my way out to the pool. Sebastiana’s skin glistens in the sun as if she bathed in a pool of tanning oil. She’s wearing a floppy hat and sunglasses that hide half her face.

I don’t know if I should take the lounge on the other side of the pool like yesterday or if I should sit next to her. Stone must have told her I wasn’t staff, otherwise she wouldn’t have invited me to workout with her.

I’m not ready to cross the line to friendly conversation so I sit on the lounge I used yesterday.

“The sun is better on this side,” she says over the loud beat of the music.

It’s the closest I’ll get to an invitation—not that I’m looking for one—and gather my towel and move to the other side of the pool, settling in the lounger to her left. I pick up my book and read while Sebastiana sleeps.

Maria comes out sometime later to check on us and hands me my forgotten cottage cheese and pineapple. Sebastiana doesn’t stir.

“You didn’t finish your breakfast.”

“Always looking out for me.” I take the bowl from her.

She wrinkles her nose at the sleeping Sebastiana. “Can I get you anything else? Headphones? An escape to Tahiti?”

A snort of laughter escapes me, waking my workout buddy. “I’m holding my own, but thank you, Maria.”

When she leaves, Sebastiana rolls over. “You’re going to Tahiti?”

“No. She was just teasing.”

“I’ve never known Stone’s staff, much less Maria, to joke with his guests.”

First, I’m not aguest, but I don’t correct her. Second, I don’t take the jealousy bait. Sure, she’s been around longer than I have. I, however, have built relationships with the staff, unlike Sebastiana.

Not that I’m keeping track.

Not that I care.

We’re two women staying at the estate. I know why I’m here, but I have no idea why she is. It’s been on the tip of my tongue to ask Stone about her, not her past. Or present. I get that they’re lovers. She rubs it in my face any chance she gets.

Why is she here now, though? She stays in a suite in the east wing, an area I believed to be reserved for guests. If she were just one of Stone’s quickie lovers, she’d be gone by now. He’d made it abundantly clear to me he never does sleepovers with women, nor does he make promises. He’s upfront and honest, and doesn’t lie.

I guess he’s holding true to some of that. He promised to keep me safe, and he is. Learning of Lorenzo’s death gives me some sense of relief, but there’s still the threat of Antonio. Honestly, he scares me more than my father.

For the eighteen years I lived under his roof, Lorenzo never physically abused me. Emotionally abandoned, yes. Mentally abused, absolutely. Even as a baby, he never held me. Never brought me to a park or a zoo.

I remember seeing pictures of myself as a baby with my mother and my nannies at parks. Even with Sonny, my bodyguard. The only photos of me with Lorenzo were later in my teen years when he showcased me like a horse at a fair. He wasn’t looking for suitors; he had one. Antonio Rossi. Fifteen years my senior and interested in nothing but partnering his business with Lorenzo Parisi’s. A business I’d chosen to be ignorant about, but am now very much aware. I want details, yet I’m afraid to hear them. Afraid my biggest fears of how deep my father and Antonio’s evil runs is true.

“I’m so bored,” Sebastiana whines as she flips to her stomach. “What do you do around her all day? Other than sex, there’s not much else going on.”

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