Page 8 of His to Ruin

“Are you hungry?” I ask solicitously. This is supposed to be a date, after all. The aim is to make a pleasurable experience where we get to know each other a little. There are so many things I wish to learn from the woman opposite me.

“I am, yes.”

Raising my hand, I call the server over. Angelina is a young woman who’s waited on me before. She’s studying at theUniversita di Firenze. I make it my business to learn somethingabout everyone I encounter. Information is power, after all, and even the most insignificant fact about a person can prove useful at some point. If I recall, Angelina is taking art history. I guess she wants to make a career out of persuading rich idiots to part with their cash for abstract blobs of color.

“Mr. Reznov.” Angelina bobs her head respectfully and waits for me to speak.

“We’ll take thebistecca alla fiorentinawith whatever accompaniments Ms. Lazaro recommends.” Normally, I wouldn’t put my food choices in someone else’s hands, but Lucia never gets it wrong. “And can you recommend some wine for my companion?”

“I’ll take the Tenuta San Vuido Sassicaia, the 2021,” Olivia says. “And bring the bottle.”

Angelina looks at me for confirmation and I nod. Let the Italian princess drink whatever she wants. It will lower her inhibitions and allow me to find out more about her.

“You didn’t argue about the food, but wanted to choose the wine,” I note as Angelina walks off.

“I know more about wine than you do.” There’s no point in arguing since she’s right. As a man who never touches the stuff, I have no clue what’s good. “And the steak is always amazing here.”

“You’ve been before?” I ask.

“A few times. Lorenzo brings me here whenever he wants to torment the owner.”

“He’s still interested in her, then?”

“Yes, until she spreads her legs for him. Then he’ll forget all about her.”

“You have a low opinion of your cousin.”

“I have a low opinion of men.”

Considering the pictures of her I now possess, I’m not surprised by the bitterness dripping from her words.

“You speak from experience?” I doubt she’ll confide in me about the man who took those photographs, but I ask anyway.

Olivia purses her lips. “I have five asshole brothers, countless asshole cousins, and one asshole…” She waves her hand in my direction as she decides what to label me. “Suitor.”

“Just one? I’m glad to hear I don’t have any competition.” Not that it would matter if I did. Anyone who stands between me and my chosen bride will end up in an unmarked grave.

“I didn’t say you were my only suitor. I said you were the only asshole suitor.”

“Ah, I see. You’ve got prospective husbands lined up around the block, do you?”

Olivia’s face falls. “I’m sure they would be if it wasn’t for my brothers.” She snorts in irritation. “I’m surprised they don’t just slap a chastity belt on me and be done with it.”

The thought of Olivia in a chastity belt, waiting for me to unlock it on our wedding night, turns me on more than it should. Perhaps I could have her wear one beneath her gown.

Before I can get any deeper into that fantasy, Angelina returns to the table with the wine. She dribbles a little into Olivia’s wineglass and waits for her to taste it. At Olivia’s nod ofapproval, she pours a more generous measure. I help myself to another vodka. As I lift it to my lips, I watch Olivia draining her glass, gulping the expensive wine down like it’s water. She sets the glass down and refills it.

“Do you have a drinking problem, Olivia?” The information I’ve gathered on her over the last few months suggests that’s not the case, but I want to see how she reacts.

“No, Piotr. I have a Russian-who-won’t-leave-me-alone problem.” She glares at me. “Why are we here?”

“For dinner.” As if on cue, Angelina appears with a large platter of medium rare steak and places it on the table along with a jug of rich-looking sauce. Another server, an older man I don’t recognize, sets down a dish of braised artichokes and some rosemary potatoes, then walks away.

“Would you like me to serve?” Angelina asks.

I shake my head. “We’ll manage, thank you.”

“As you wish, Mr. Reznov.”

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