Page 128 of Sins of the Orchid
“Jesus, she is a real knockout,” Renzo muttered, glancing my way. Jackass was probably taunting me. “Men are on that ass probably like bees to honey.”
I purposely ignored the comments my cousin made, gawking at the world premiere of the fashion week in Milan on television like he was into damn fashion. I ground my teeth, fighting the urge to beat the living shit out of my cousin, or say something I might regret later.
She’d be back in New York in another few days. I’d hate to see how he’ll act when he finally sees her again. He’ll be added to her list of admirers, and she has those everywhere she turns. The only man she has been pictured with more than once is Adriano. The urge to kill every single one of those men clawed at me, including my baby brother.
Amore looked good, too good for her own good. Bennetti has already put wedding plans in motion. He was eager to make her my little brother’s wife, and I couldn’t get her out of my fucking head. It didn’t bode well for anyone because when a Russo fixated on something or someone… blood and sex followed.
Adriano returned earlier this week after spending a week with her. After our falling out about the marriage contract, he ran to Italy to cool off. Amore was good at pulling my brother off the ledge. He came back more accepting, or at least acting like it. It burned me to think how she calmed him down.
Did she wrap her lips around his cock? Or sit her pussy on his face so he could see her writhe under his tongue as he gave her pleasure?
Motherfucker!
“Is Amore back in New York?” Renzo asked.
Her grandmother had been grooming her, and Amore had been an excellent pupil. She had increased the value of the company shares by eight percent within the first four weeks of taking over. Amore learning every aspect of her company had paid off. It was fucking impressive; if only the media and reporters hadn’t been so enamored with the face of the richest and youngest heiress in the world, taunting me with her.
“No, she had a few more stops to make before returning,” Adriano answered, aloof. Even now, knowing about the marriage arrangement, he never worried about seeing Amore surrounded with other men. I, on the other hand, wanted to gouge their fucking eyeballs out. “She had some business to attend to. In Italy, I think.”
I shook my head. It made no sense for her to go back to Italy when all her work had been transferred to her grandmother’s office in New York.
“I think Amore and I will get our bathroom towels embroidered with fancy, golden A&A letters,” Adriano added randomly. I clenched my jaw so hard my fucking molars hurt. Did he tell her about the arrangement? He wasn’t supposed to. “She likes nice stuff,” he continued aloof to my sour mood. “Maybe she could even design it. She loves that kind of stuff. She’ll probably have our entire house decorated with our initials. Heck, might even name our kids with names that only start with letter A.”
“Adriano,” I gritted out.
“Yeah?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
I stared at the paperwork in front of me, not seeing a single damn fucking word. I was so fucking pissed off that I swear letters were burning in front of my eyes. I fucking hated the idea of their matching letter embroidery. Maybe as a don, I could banish that shit.
“Holy fuck,” Adriano exclaimed, and my head snapped up. “She never told me she opted for the emerald dress. My hot little wifey.”
He was getting on my last nerve. My fingers itched to reach for my gun and pull the trigger. Pà said to take care of my little brother; that would pass as such. Right?
“What do you mean?” Renzo asked, unable to peel his eyes off the television.
“She couldn’t decide between this dress and another,” Adriano explained. “I guess she went for the sexy look.”
“I’d say,” Renzo eyed her like a piece of candy he had been craving. “Those tits—”
“That’s enough,” I barked out. “I’m not paying you two to watch a fashion show or yap like two fucking old ladies.”
Neither one of them bothered to turn their heads my way. They continued gawking at the television as if scared they’d miss a single moment of Amore Bennetti’s magnificent appearance.
My eyes darted to the screen, and it was the same as always. Every time I saw Amore’s face, it was a punch to the gut. It had been over two months. Two goddamn months and she still got to me. She had the sweetest body around, but that I could ignore. It washerI couldn’t forget. Her smart mouth. Her creative mind. Her determination. The way her eyes glittered as she watched me or hazed with lust when I touched her.
Amore’s love was the most beautiful thing to have and the hardest thing to let go.
Well, fuck that shit. I wasn’t prepared to let her go. After the initial shock of learning that she was promised to my brother, I couldn’t think straight. But now, my mind created a twisted plan. One that started to sound less and less like a bad idea with every day that drew nearer to the wedding day. I’d steal her from my brother and blackmail her grandmother. If that failed, there was my kidnapping plan. Fuck it, I’d fight Savio, my brother, and anyone else that dared to keep her from me. She was mine and I was hers. Fuck everyone else!
In my life, I had never feared anything. It was probably the reason Pà had me as acting Don despite my age. But losingherscared me. It should have been a sign to keep my distance, but I just couldn’t. If I was decent, I wouldn’t jerk off to thoughts of her; I wouldn’t scheme ways to take her for myself.
Good fucking thing I never claimed to be decent.
I watched her on the television, striding with confidence into the event. Her green dress had a deep V neckline, exposing her milky white skin and cascading down her slim body. The dress was stark against her red hair and accentuated her eyes. As always she barely wore any jewelry, only a necklace. The necklace I had made for her. It became her signature.
In one of her interviews, she was even asked about it. She just shrugged and said it was a reminder not to let people fuck with you, causing quite a media stir for her language on live TV. Unlike other women, she didn’t need glittering jewelry to get noticed. She had a presence about her, probably got it from her grandmother.
