Page 50 of Wicked Beautiful (Wicked Games 1)
When I do, he’s staring back at me with hard eyes, a hard jaw, and lips so thinned they’re barely visible. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting to see me. Even more obviously, he isn’t pleased. His gaze cuts to Luciano, who immediately plasters himself to my side.
For the first time tonight, Luciano and I have something in common: the look of disgust we both give Parker.
Oh, the pleasure is all yours, is it? I think, steaming. Oh, you’d like to be one of the people I don’t lie to, would you? Oh, every time I laugh it makes you happy, does it, you lousy, lying louse?
And here he is the very next day with his arm wrapped around a hot little piece he’s probably said the exact same shit to. I wonder if they had sex right before they came to the party.
Everything inside me vibrates at a high, dangerous frequency, like some kind of unstable Dr. Frankenstein electrical experiment, ready to blow all the fuses in the house before birthing a monster. These genteel partygoers are lucky there aren’t any sharp objects within easy reach, or they’d be witnesses to a bloodbath.
“I know him,” says Luciano with acidic disdain.
I’d like to kiss his cheek. Instead I clasp his hand in mine and pull him closer. He gladly obliges, but then becomes distracted by my cleavage, which he stares at, all else forgotten.
I say brightly, “We’ve actually never met. Though your reputation precedes you, Mr. Maxwell.” I glance at the beautiful young brunette beside him. My laugh is low, throaty, and full of malice.
In a voice so terse the word is almost spat, he says, “Victoria.” He doesn’t acknowledge Luciano, or introduce his date, who has lifted her chin and squared her narrow shoulders. I look at her. Like a shark, I show my teeth. She blanches and shrinks closer to Parker.
The mayor looks back and forth among the four of us, confused by the odd tension.
“Ahem. Well, won’t you all please come inside?”
He stands aside, arm held out, all polite smiles and warmth. I jerk on Luciano’s hand to rouse him from his breast-induced coma and stride forward into the mayor’s home without looking back, dragging him behind me.
The house is crowded with waiters passing hors d’oeuvres and guests milling around the rooms in chatting groups. Warmth hits me along with a confusion of scents, perfume and food and cigarettes, and above it all, the din of voices and music. I spot two bars on opposite sides of the grand, vaulted living room, and head for one. Luciano, with his long legs, easily keeps up with me.
I arrive at the bar slightly winded, and bark my order to a bartender who looks all of twelve years old.
“Belíssima, are you all right?” Luciano touches my cheek. “Your face is like the ripe tomato.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Parker. He’s a head taller than everyone else, looking around the room as if searching for something. I turn away.
“If you must know, Lucky, I thought the way that Parker person looked at you was very disrespectful. It really made me mad. I mean, you’re Luciano Mancari!”
He puffs out his chest. “Do not let him anger you, Miss Victoria. This man has very much jealousy of me. It has always been so.”
“Oh? You know each other?”
The teenage bartender hands me my martini and I take a sip. It’s not nearly as good as the one Parker made me, which kicks my anger up a notch.
Luciano shrugs. His gaze drifts over to a woman standing nearby. Her breasts are high up on her chest, taut and shiny. They’re obviously new. As he speaks, he continues to stare at them.
“He owns restaurants. But he is not a chef, an artist, you see? He is like a merchant. Only concerned with money. No talent is there, just this want for the money. He is very American in this way.”
I’m not just going to trip this idiot tonight. I’m probably going to push him into the mayor’s Olympic-sized swimming pool.
“Well, he obviously wishes he could be you.”
Luciano finally tears his gaze from the shiny objects, and glances at me. His smile oozes self-importance. “This is one of the great challenges for me, belíssima. For every gift, there is a price, no? And for me, with all my gifts, the price is this constant jealously from lesser men.”
I stare at him. “You poor thing.”
Luciano’s dark eyes warm with something that looks suspiciously like admiration. He leans close to my ear and says, “You are different kind of woman than I maybe think before. Not so strong American hustler woman. More traditional. Understanding of the man. This job you have, this bitches thing, I guess this is funny thing for you, no? Like job you have until later, when you find right man and can be married?”
He pulls back and looks at me, smug, his brow cocked, smiling an I’ve got you pegged, don’t I? smile, and I just about lose my shit and toss my martini in his face.
I don’t, however. I simply say with total honesty, “Lucky, I have never met a man like you in my entire life.”
For this, I’m rewarded with a dazzling grin. He shakes a finger in my face. “Aha! She is seeing so clearly! She cannot hide from Luciano Mancari!”
