Page 21 of Vincenzo
I walk over to the bathroom.I swear if this fucking asshole has a camera in here too…
Pushing the door of the en suite open, I walk in, and the dial on my app shoots up. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart as realization dawns on me. He’s been spying on me in my bedroom. He’s been spying on me in the fucking bathroom. What the hell is wrong with him? I should feel violated, but I’m really just fucking pissed at this point.
Setting my phone down on the counter, I press my hands into the smooth marble and gaze at my reflection in the mirror.
Think, Amalia.
He knows about the kidnapping plan, which my uncle is going to be livid about. He’s been spying on you, most likely while you’re naked, and to top it all off, he’s a fucking asshole.
I rack my brain, trying to figure out what the best course of action will be. Now that he knows what my uncle wants us to do, it’s only a matter of time before they come after us. I’m surprised they haven’t yet. That couldn’t be because…
My mind flashes back to the desire that fills Vincenzo’s eyes whenever we’ve been in the same room. The memory of his words comes back to me.“Look, do I find you physically attractive? Of course. What man wouldn’t? It’s human fucking nature, sweetheart. I have eyes, but don’t make it something it never would be, because my level of interest in a person like you, even if it’s just to fuck, is nonexistent.”
I let out a humorous scoff and shake my head, gazing at myself in the mirror while my wet locks kiss my bare shoulders. Ignoring the neon sign going off in my head telling me I need to alert my uncle that we’ve been compromised, I decide to do something I’m sure I’ll regret. Something strictly driven by my pettiness and fucking frustration with Vincenzo.
I walk back out to my room and open the door. Carlos is still in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open.What the fuck could he possibly be looking to eat this late at night?He turns his head and makes eye contact with me.
Ignoring the reasonable side of me, I do what any bitch would do when she finds out an asshole who’s been making her life more difficult than it needs to be has been spying on her and being a piece of shit.
Giving Carlos a look I know would put any man on his knees, I say, “I changed my mind.”
12
VINCENZO
It’s taking me longer than expected to finish the work I have to do at the club tonight because I haven’t been able to get Amalia off my mind since she left. I checked that she got home not too long ago, but then I got distracted with an issue downstairs. Now, as I sit here trying to finish up the numbers for the month, she’s taking up space at the forefront of my brain without my damn permission.
She’s a kidnapper. A damn sex trafficker.
I have to repeat these things to myself because I shouldn’t feel this attraction toward her, yet I fucking do. This innate feeling I have to lie to my brother and protect her from getting killed by him when I should be the one doing it myself is taking over my life.
A knock sounds at my door, so I glance up to see it’s Rocco and nod for him to come in.
“Hey, uh, there’s someone here to see you,” he says.
My curiosity piques at that. “Velasco?” I ask, and it comes out more eager than it should have.
Rocco does his best to hide his smirk. “Not exactly.”
My brows furrow. “Then who?”
Before he can answer me, a high-pitched voice sounds from behind him. “Enzooo.”
A golden-blonde haired woman pushes her way past Rocco’s hulk-like frame, entering my office.
“Cassidy,” I mumble.
Rocco raises his brows at me, and I begrudgingly nod at him, letting him know he’s free to leave us.
Cassidy watches as Rocco exits my office and closes the door behind him, then turns back to me with a twinkle in her eye that already has me fucking exhausted for what’s to come.
I sit back in my chair and eye her. “What can I do for you?” I ask, disinterested.
“Aww, is someone in a bad mood?” she asks in this annoying baby voice I’m trying to remember if she had before or not.
Cassidy throws a long blonde lock back over her shoulder and makes her way toward my desk, but instead of stopping in front of it, she walks around to my side, turns my chair so I’m facing her, and sits on my lap.
Placing her hands on my chest, she leans in and whispers in my ear, “I know what will make you feel better.”
