Page 63 of Vengeful Vows

“Rêve de Mode.”

“Ah.” Amelia’s shop. My little flower is certainly testing her wings.

“Is this an authorized charge, sir? Or would you like to dispute it?”

“It’s fine.”

“Would you like me to notify you of other purchases?”

“I’ll check the accounts myself.”

“Anything else we can do for you, Mr. Moretti?”

“Thank you. No.” After I drop my phone onto my desk, I lean back in my chair.

I’m not surprised she hasn’t called. Disappointed, perhaps. Though maybe I shouldn’t be.

Our dinner with Alessandro had not gone as I intended, and I miscalculated the way he would react to the news of my upcoming marriage to Bella. After all, I’d warned him in advance that he would deliver his little sister to me. He should have smiled and congratulated us, keeping our secret until after the wedding. Instead, his ridiculous dramatics forced my hand.

Seeing him crushed had been momentarily satisfying.

But my triumph had been short-lived, then erased entirely when I looked at Bella.

As I watched, confusion raced across her face. Clearly she didn’t want to believe what Alessandro said.

But as recognition of who I was and what I’d done had become real, love vanished from her eyes, replaced by betrayal that morphed into loathing.

I told myself that I’d set out to destroy Alessandro, and that’s exactly what I’d done.

But deep down, Bella’s devastation smashed into me in a way I never imagined it would.

Then she’d wrenched off the ring that she’d cherished and threw it hard.

After scooping it up, I polished it on the sleeve of my jacket, then pocketed it.

When Alessandro started to get out of his seat to follow his sister, one of my men had stepped forward, clamped his hands on my future brother-in-law’s shoulders and encouraged him to remain where he was.

Exercising patience instead of going after her had demanded considerable restraint.

As I contemplated choking the fuck out of Alessandro, I crafted a new plan, one where he understood my rules. Once that was in place, Alessandro would be the one to make it clear to Bella that I controlled her life.

The day passes. Despite my earlier reassurances to the consigliere, my thoughts are scattered. Until her, no woman has been able to interrupt my focus.

Then again, she is no ordinary temptress.

Since the moment I had her in my arms on the dance floor, I have burned for her. It’s only by masturbating numerous times a day that I have been able to restrain myself when she is near.

The app where I track Bella is open on one of my computer screens.

I see that she leaves work a little after seven. Instead of going to the hotel, she makes a stop in River Oaks.

I pick up my phone. “Where is she?” I ask when Antonio answers.

“Some sort of lotions and potions place, boss.”

“You inside with her?”

“They’re trying to squirt smelly lotions on me.” He sounds properly offended. More quietly he adds, “Mother of God. This shit might make my finger slip off the trigger.”

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