“Have I personally been with Eva? No. She’s a bit below me, but you won’t find a lot of married men around here that don’t know her in some sort of way.”
Her brows slanted inward as the implication became clear.
“Is that your nice way of calling my sister a whore?”
“Well, I’m certainly not saying she wasn’t a whore. If the dick fits…” I let her finish that statement, picking up my drink.
“And grams? My uncle?”
“Your grandmother is on a little vacation. Your uncle is likely scrounging for money to aide his addiction since I cut him off.”
Gripping the edge of the table, she slowly inched her chair back.
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know,” I replied somberly.
“I’m also confused. Explain to me how you asked me these questions and because I’m giving you honest answers…I’m an asshole?”
“Fuck you.” She stood from her chair and glared down at me.
“You have a very salacious mouth.” I formed a triangle with my fingers and rested them against my lips.
Shaking her head, she turned and quickly left the room.
Chapter Fifteen
With a firm grip on my forearm, he spun me around.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped, trying to pull away.
He let go just to subdue both of my wrists in an iron grip with one hand. His other found its way beneath my cotton dress, going straight to my lace underwear.
“I’m going to give you a small reprieve.”
He stroked right over my sensitive nub once, twice, and then roughly pulled the fabric to the side.
“I don’t need a reprieve; I want you to let go of me. Not everything is about sex.”
“You’re right. We’re about much more than that. But don’t fucking lie to me. Your pussy most certainly wants some relief; you’re soaking, amada.”
“Isn’t it incredible how you react to the most immoral confessions?” He pushed two thick digits inside me, and then added a third, causing a groan to escape from my throat.
I hated how right he was.
His fingers pumped in and out at a rapid speed, going knuckle deep each and every time. My finger-nails dug into my palms. He watched me closely as I struggled to contain my mounting pleasure––the slick sloshing sound from between my legs betraying me.
“Stop,” I breathed, trying to wriggle away, only worsening my predicament as he forced my legs wider.
“Come,” he countered, pushing in so deep I whimpered.
“Sir, the Serbans have just passed through the gates.”
Alfredo’s cultured voice was like a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head.
I couldn’t bring myself to look over Mateo’s shoulder where I knew he stood. My legs were splayed wide open and I was being finger fucked on the stairway.
The poor man didn’t even sound surprised.
“Thank you, Fredo,” Mateo responded without missing a beat, continuing to move his fingers inside me. “Unless you want to give my friends a show, I suggest you come,” he said as soon as Alfredo’s footsteps retreated.
“I can’t, you fucking asshole,” I half snarled and half pathetically moaned.
“Ride my fingers until you do,” he demanded, letting go of my wrists and wrapping his arm around my waist to bring me closer.
Fighting back every obscenity that wanted to come out of my mouth, I gripped his shoulders, buried my face in his neck, and fucked his hand.
When he shifted his thumb to my clit, I was coming within seconds. I dug my fingers in as my muscles locked up, biting my tongue to silence my moan.
He knotted a hand in my hair and pulled my head back. “Suck,” he demanded harshly, withdrawing his fingers from my pussy and forcing them into my mouth. I’d barely finished licking my juices off when there were two solid raps on the front door.
“Don’t ever storm away from me again.” He pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead and steadied me on my feet.
I opened my mouth to tell him he could go fuck himself, but he was gone in the blink of an eye. I heard voices and didn’t have time to move before I found three strangers in suits staring up at me with matching expressions of curiosity.
“My fiancé,” Mateo introduced, locking his daring eyes with mine.
My face ignited with humiliation, and I could feel arousal running down my inner thigh. I couldn’t speak for fear that would make the tears I was struggling to hold back expel down my cheeks.
How had I come for answers, sat for dinner, and left with the feel of his fingers between my legs? My head was a mess.
Spinning on my heel, I forced myself to calmly walk up the stairs, feeling the strangers’ stares the entire way.
He never came to bed that night.
I woke groggy and disoriented to a room full of blushing pink peonies and white roses.
I remembered being lulled into a deep sleep in the middle of sending a text to Peyton and Melody after taking my medication, but it must have been pretty heavy for me to have slept through vases of flowers being delivered.
Deciding to phone Peyton, I hit call on his name and cradled the phone between my shoulder and ear, still rubbing sleep from my eyes.
“Bitch! Where the hell have you been?” His loud voice had me internally cringing.
“Peyton, there’s so much I need to tell you and Me, I don’t even know where to start. Mateo had my phone.”
“I know, he answered when Melody and I called for the billionth time. He told us you were fine.”
“And you believed him?” I asked, climbing out of bed. I stumbled my way to the dresser where a blue velvet box sat; inside was a set of tear shaped diamond earrings.
“Hell no!” Peyton hollered. “Are you high? I would never trust that smooth talking devil with my best friend.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that accurate description.
“I have something to tell you too, but nothing over the phone. Your walls are probably listening.”
“Mmm, good point,” I agreed, going into the closet.
“Mmm, yes. It’s because of that point I’m going to let you go. I’ll see you tonight. In the meantime, be careful.”
“You too,” I replied before hanging up.
Holding the phone to my chest for a few silent minutes, I wondered what he’d been able to find out, and when it was he and Melody had called for me. Mateo hadn’t disclosed that little tidbit. But he did tell me something useful. Eva was seemingly okay, but detained.
The where and why, were my two biggest questions. I made mental note to ask him at breakfast––except I wound up eating alone, receiving a diamond bracelet in his place.
Lunch, was a necklace and a card telling me I’d had a dress for that evening delivered to our room and to be ready by seven. I wanted to ignore it all and just take a time out to get my shit together.
Everything was moving at a breakneck speed and I just needed a minute, but that wasn’t likely to be granted.
I needed to suck shit up and deal with things one hurdle at a time.
I needed to figure out how to play the game better than Mateo ever could.
I needed to strengthen the bond between us to see if that would get him to open up more. He didn’t trust me, and I damn sure didn’t trust him. There was only one issue.
How did you grow close to someone without sacrificing your entire heart?
Looking at myself in the mirror I tried to spot any sign that screamed I was made from two people coming together that shouldn’t have.
I still wasn’t sure how to handle this.
Was I overreacting? Under-reacting?
I wanted to bleach my brain from remembering all the times I’d seen my mother and father hug, kiss, or cuddle.
My dad was also my uncle, my mom was my aunt, and my twin sister was also my cousin. It sounded like a classic hillbilly horror story.
The sibling and clone jokes weren’t as fu
nny now as they had been before. How the fuck did something like that even happen?
What made it even worse was the fact that my grams had to know, which meant she didn’t care or she was in on the whole thing.
Shaking my head to clear it of all those disturbing thoughts and images, I found I was satisfied with my appearance.
The evening gown was gorgeous. Black with a high slit and sheer lace sleeves, I paired it with a pair of black red bottoms and put my hair in a simple yet elegant chignon, adding light make-up.
The ensemble was completed with the diamonds he’d given me and my golden heart pendant.
I waited in the foyer, sending a text to my grandmother to check in. I slightly jumped when I saw his reflection staring at me in the stained glass panes of the front door.
Turning to face him, I was happy he’d pissed me off the night before or I would have drooled all over myself.
His black on black tux made him look–every inch the royal people saw him as. His hair was styled to perfection and he’d trimmed his stubble.
“You look gorgeous, amada,” he said quietly.
“Well, whoever picked out this dress has excellent taste,” I replied politely, smoothing a hand over the curve of my hip.
“Yes, he does. He also made a mistake last night.” He implored me with eyes full of sorrow.
“Oh,” I brilliantly replied. “Yes, you did. But we both know you’re an egotistical, controlling asshole. We aren’t going to do ourselves any favors pretending otherwise.” I lifted a shoulder in a shrug.
He looked at me a few beats and then sighed. “I need you to understand that I made a mistake, and that what happened on the stairs will never happen again,” He spoke with such conviction it was hard not to believe he was telling the truth.
“Can you really be sure about that Mateo?”
“Yes,” he rushed out.
“Alright then,” I said slowly not entirely believing him.
“Now, I need you to look me in my face and tell me that it’s okay,” he stressed.
I raised my brows and studied him.
I was beginning to see the tiny fissures in Mateo’s psyche. His sudden bursts of erratic behavior had a name, something I couldn’t pinpoint right then and there, but it wasn’t going to lead us anywhere good when it was finally coupled with my issues.
Not wanting to push that particular button, right then, I slightly nodded, ready to move the hell on.
“It’s…okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated back with a boyish smile.
This was going to be a long night.
Chapter Sixteen
The ride was quiet for the first twenty minutes.
He chose to drive the Wraith and I was silently content until my mind wandered back to my sister. In just a matter of minutes, I would be in the room with everyone who knew her these past few years. I was readying my mental shields for all the things I knew I’d hear.
According to the man I was to marry, she had slept with a great deal of those who ran in the same social hierarchy as he did.
Many of them had wives, and I was positive that hadn’t won her many glowing reviews.
Mateo drove well into Vice City, maneuvering through the streets with a laid back ease. At a traffic light, he leaned over and dropped a square, burgundy velvet box in my lap.
“I don’t have room for anything else,” I protested.
“You have an empty space on your finger that needs a permanent fixture,” he replied casually, not taking his eyes off the road.
I suddenly felt as if there were a bomb on my lap. With heavy trepidation, I opened the box. Nestled safely inside was a white-gold ring with one, fat sole diamond that could probably put a room full of kids through a prestigious college.
Even in the dark interior of the car, it shone like a small ray of light. I tried not to let vanity get in the way, but I loved it, and that only made me loathe its representation all the more.
“This is…too much.” I shook my head.
“Where you’re concerned, it’s never too much,” he objected. “Please put the ring on.”
“You’re determined to see this through, aren’t you?” I laughed softly, lifting my prison sentence from its box.
“I never do anything I regret, minha beleza, and I would deeply regret letting you slip away. I know these circumstances aren’t of the norm, and there are things you don’t fully yet understand, but if you allow me to, I will take very good care of you.” He reached over and took my hand, intertwining our fingers.
I didn’t have a response, and he didn’t say anything further.
I let out a small breath and silently asked my family for forgiveness, because his words mattered much more than they should have.
Chapter Seventeen
A chandelier hung from the ceiling, tables of hors d’oeuvres sat strategically around the room, and a live band played classical music from a mixture of violins, a harp, and a piano.
Paintings and sculptures were displayed for silent biddings. People stood in small groups, laughing and drinking golden hued champagne.
Mateo kept me on his arm, giving me a sense of added security as he led me around the room.
I was introduced to so many people I would never remember, and saw too many faces I would quickly forget. Every pair of eyes found their way to the ring on my finger, like it was a magnet.
A few people seemed genuinely pleased; others looked at me with smiles so plastic they could be cancerous.
But no one uttered a word of disrespect.
The difference between how people treated me at the funeral was astronomical, simply because Mateo was by my side.
As the night wore on, I quickly realized I just wasn’t cut out for rich people politics.
I dropped the fake smile for my usual resting bitch face and put more focus on figuring out who was whom. I felt knowing who the other big players were was much more beneficial than knowing that Susan and Dave were having their kitchen remodeled.
We were finally given a short break from his floundering fans, and stood off by a table loaded with champagne flutes.
“What do you think so far?” he asked, passing me a glass.
“It’s not that bad.”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s a but in there somewhere?” he teased.
“Oh, there is. This is basically the first circle of hell for me. I feel like I’m playing princess dress up in the middle of a high end fashion show.”
“Don’t you see the way they look at you? You’re perfect, anjo, just by being yourself.”
I mock gasped and placed a hand on my chest.
“Mateo Remmington just said something sweet without a riddle attached to it. This is a day for the history books.”
“Shh,” he leaned in and whispered, “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”
I took a sip of my drink and smiled up at him. My heart did some jumps in my chest as we studied one another’s faces.
“Keep smiling like that and I’ll give you the world if you want it.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll give it to you anyway. You deserve it.”
Ugh, that was smooth.
“So I’m not a pawn?”
“No, You’re a queen.” He placed a lingering kiss on my cheek and then made his way towards a small group of men on the other side of the room.
I really hated his goodbyes.
I stood off by myself, content with being the loner until I began to feel people’s stares cutting into me. I felt like I’d been placed right beneath a spotlight. Searching For Mateo, I found Peyton and Melody instead, making their way towards me.
Both were looking as dapper as always. Peyton was in a royal blue tux, and one of his many bow-ties. His dark blonde hair was carefully styled.
Melody was in black like me, with her dark hair hanging down around her face in flawless curls.
“Honey, you look like the new girl on her first day of hi
gh-school who can’t decide which clique to join. Drink this and smile; don’t let these people think you’re intimidated.” Peyton swapped my champagne flute with one he’d been holding, exchanging a look with Melody.
She rolled her eyes, giving me a wide smile and a tight half hug.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” I answered honestly, feeling relieved to have someone to talk to.
I slowly began to fill them in on the sideshow that had become my life with a few particular exceptions, mindful of listening ears.
I took a large sip of my drink when everything was out in the open.
“This is not champagne,” I wheezed, swallowing a cough.
“Of course it’s not champagne,” Peyton scoffed. “And from everything you’ve just told me, one of those isn’t nearly enough.”
“Isn’t this against etiquette or something?”
“Girl, there are bitches doing lines in the bathroom right now with the attendant holding their hair for them,” Melody laughed.
“If they’re not doing lines, they’re popping pills and washing them down with chardonnay,” Peyton added, looping his arm through mine.
“That thing you sent me,” he began, speaking lowly. “It’s like a ledger. The numbers are different security and pass codes.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning Mateo has access to these people’s lives, whenever he wants it or needs it,” Melody filled in.
Now I understood why he had no issues killing people to get the book back. It was essentially the key of all keys.
My sister had majorly fucked up.
“Where do you think she’s being held?”
“That’s something else I wanted to tell you. There’s a hangout, a bar or something called The Basement. I got a tip that Eva…solicits there—or she did. If you can get away somehow, I thought it would be a good place to check for leads.”
I looked at him and shook my head. “I really appreciate all you’ve done, but I don’t think you two should get any more involved than you already are. It’s not safe.”
Old Money Roulette: Complete Trilogy Page 19
