Page 19 of Claimed By Him

Urg! Fiona! You’re falling into his sex trap!

I knew he would only pull me down like everyone else in this family, doomed to live the life of an ignored housewife washing the blood from her husband’s clothes all day. I wasn’t going to let that happen to me. Unless of course… I got my urges out of the way?

Could I manage sleeping with him without any form of marital commitment? Get my sexual frustration satisfied by losing my virginity to him, then walking away? No… surely he wouldn’t go through with that. He was even more of a stickler for rules than Antonio was.

Besides, he’d always been more of a big brother to me anyway. An annoying, controlling big brother. If I had to propose this one night of pleasure to him, he’d probably laugh at me and walk off with some more experienced woman. I knew I couldn’t take that rejection, not again.

The Romano estate had been done up with beautiful lights all along the driveway, right up to the circle at the entrance where people were arriving and being helped out of their cars by valet boys. I smiled at the cute guy who took my hand and noticed Antonio glaring at me.

“Oh, wow!” Olivia was stunned when we walked into her childhood home. As usual, it’d been decorated fantastically, with curtains of fairy lights creating a gold sheen over the entire ballroom that accentuated the sparkling chandeliers and crystal glasses in everyone’s hands. I slipped into the crowded room with Mia before the whole crowd cheered for the couple of the night entering the room.

They walked in with big smiles, and after thanking everyone for the warm welcome, immediately started greeting people who were lining up to congratulate them. Only too thankful to not be in their position, I tried to slip away, when I was stopped by a hand around my arm right at the door.

“Fiona!” Antonio ripped me under his arm. “This is John Beneventi. He’s been dying to meet you.”

I looked at the man Antonio had magically stumbled upon so early in the evening. He was handsome, maybe in his thirties, so I gave him a moment’s consideration.

At least I knew Antonio wasn’t taking me for a complete fool; he did pick out a few nice-looking men for me to meet. John wore a designer suit, Italian cut, and his dark hair was stylishly combed back. Yet, something I was sure Antonio didn’t pick up on, was the way this guy had “desperate” written all over his face. He was tall with blue eyes and a strong jaw, but those eyes were just too wide… as if he was on some kind of amphetamine drug. He looked me up and down, holding his hand out eagerly.

“Fiona Moretti, what abellayou are!” He spoke fast, and when I reached for his hand, it was clammy.

Ew.

“I’ve been waiting to meet you for months now, Antonio says—”

“It’s great to meet you, John.” I smiled kindly, trying very hard not to let it come across as entirely sarcastic, which it was. “Unfortunately, I have to run to the little girl’s room right now, but maybe we’ll chat later, okay?”

I didn’t wait for an answer. I spun around, glimpsing Antonio’s clenched jaw and angry glance, before heading across the room and finding a drink. They were serving champagne; I downed my first glass, then took another.

When I turned around, expecting my next annoyance for the evening to show up, I wasn’t disappointed. And that wasn’t even sarcastic.

My eyes immediately connected with Tony’s, who stood across the room, leaning against the wall with a tumbler glass in his hand. He wore a fitted black suit and a white shirt open at the collar, exposing his neck and chest ink. I could see his collar bones from this far away: the dividing line between his sexy Adam’s apple and the swell of his pecs.

Fuck, why did I always feel myself breathing with a little more difficulty whenever he was in view? His eyes didn’t leave mine, even as mine slid down over his body, noting just how tailored his suit really was—it fit his body as though he was fucking born in it.

All I managed to do with my helpless stare was invoke a little crooked smile in him, growing his ego way more than I ever intended to. I closed my eyes, turned my body, and walked away. The doors at the back of the room were opened up and guests spilled out onto a decked area, with outdoor sofas and tables arranged in small intimate circles in between burning gas heaters. It wasn’t a very cold night, but in my small layer of sequined clothing, it comforted me to stand next to one of the glowing heaters, leaning forward against the railing around the deck. I looked out over the bushy gardens, not noticing the man sitting on the sofa right next to me.

“Feeling a little overwhelmed there, missy?”

I jerked my head to look at him and saw that he was a much older man, probably in his sixties. His hair was completely white with a matching white beard trimmed to the line of his jaw. He sat calmly swirling the drink in his tumbler glass, watching the liquid.

“Um.” I looked around; it was only the two of us on this section of the deck. He lifted his eyes to me; they were a friendly light brown with creases at the sides. “You know what… yes.” I gave in. For some reason, I didn’t feel threatened or cornered by him, so I allowed myself the chance to breathe. “How about you?”

He chuckled, then patted the pillowed seat next to him. I sat down and crossed one leg over the other, resting my glass on top of my thigh. He wore a very expensive-looking tweed suit, though a bit old-school, and I searched around for his inevitable classy cane with a tiger’s head at the top.

“At my age, these events are less overwhelming and more tiring each time.”

I finally cracked a smile. “I can believe that.”

“You’re Fiona Moretti, aren’t you?”

“I am.” I nodded.

He didn’t look at me the whole time, only when he asked questions. At the moment, he was looking ahead, into the crowded room. “I knew your father very well.”

“Oh?”

“I was his biggest launderer.” He smiled, winking at me. “Since he’s been gone, I wonder why I even attend these events anymore. I know Enzo Romano, of course, but he wasn’t my friend like your father was.”

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