Page 19 of Sweet Retribution

Yes, she has. In the tight but elegant dress she wore when we had our first public outing. In her workout clothes. In her over-sized sweatshirts. In nothing. I’ve gone too long without her, but I can’t have her.

Not now. Maybe not ever again. I’ve screwed up her life enough already, and being an asshole to her is the only way to remind her I’m no good for her.

“Sit.” I move past her and take a seat behind my imposing desk. I know it is; that’s why I bought it.

My office is decorated in a way that is not meant for comfort but to show who is in charge. I have money, power, and the determination to win. At everything.

Gia crosses her arms, which pushes up her most perfect breasts, and lets out a snort.

Okay. So not everything. I haven’t won her over, nor am I trying.

“Stand, then.” I wave her off as if I don’t care what she does. “Tell me about Antonio Rossi.”

Guilt works its way into my gut as I watch her shoulders stiffen. She hugs her arms closer, then drops them and goes over to the bar and pours herself a glass of wine. I like that she’s comfortable enough to make herself at home.

Home. I set her off something fierce by implying she didn’t have one, which she hadn’t until I offered her free reign of my estate. As soon as all the paperwork is complete with Parisi Vineyards, she’ll have more money than she knows what to do with, and can buy as many homes as she wants.

“I don’t know him very well, and don’t plan on ever seeing him or hearing his name ever again.”

“Until he’s taken care of, you’ll be hearing about him.”

Gia tips back her glass and drains it, then refills it. I did the same thing only a few minutes earlier. Maybe we’re more alike than I thought.

She crosses the room and takes a seat in the leather chair across from me. I try to keep my gaze off her bare stomach, her long legs, her soft breasts, and focus on her face. Her mouth. Her tongue as it darts across her lower lip.

My cock strains against the zipper of my pants and I hold myself still, resisting the urge to adjust myself, or to stroke the ache away. I pick up my bourbon and sip, waiting for her to break the silence.

She takes a sip of her red wine as well, then twirls the stem between her fingers with nervous energy.

“You haven’t found him.”

“No.”

“Lorenzo won’t tell you where he is.”

“Lorenzo is dead.”

Gia’s head snaps up, her amber eyes wide in shock. “I’m... free? Mother...”

I shake my head. “He’s not a threat anymore, but Rossi is. I don’t believe he has any interest in your mother, but if he finds out she’s alive, he could use her as a way to get to you.”

She stares at me but I don’t think she actually sees me. She’s lost in her thoughts. No doubt thinking back to her abduction and the threats Antonio made on her. I don’t need to tell her she isn’t safe. Lorenzo’s hunt for her was for different reasons. To marry her off to Parisi so they could dominate the Eurpean human traffiking ring.

Rossi’s quest is now much more brutal. With Gia’s father gone, he believes he only needs to sire an heir. He can abuse and rape and torture Gia as much as he wants. Not that Lorenzo would have prevented it from happening if he were alive. Beating his own wife was proof of that.

But Parisi was about image. He wanted the image of a subservient wife on his arm, of a beautiful, obedient daughter to showcase.

Rossi doesn’t give a shit about appearance. He’s a loose cannon, and Gia knows it.

“His estate is on the western banks of the island.”

“He hasn’t been there since we found you.”

Gia nods. “I don’t know anything about him you probably haven’t already discovered.”

“Tell me what you know.”

She finishes her wine and holds the glass between her legs. “He’s an only child. Both parents are dead. There’s a cousin who is just as evil as he is.”

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