She stepped back and studied her work. The two abstracts, wild blocks of color, clashing and vibrant, were some of her best work, she knew, but she still loved the painting of Ivo best. She’d finally managed to capture the essence of him. Her lover. The man who was in love with her. She couldn’t believe it, somehow.
She forced herself to make the decision to say she was done, that her exhibit was ready, and went home to Desiree’s apartment. Desiree was out, working through an exhausting schedule of pre-opening interviews. Sofia thought about Elli’s profile – Elli had kept her word, the profile was sleek, an introduction without prying too deeply into Sofia’s personal life. At her request, there was no mention of her relationship with Ivo – both of them knew that he being the son of movie stars, interest would be high and neither wanted to navigate that just yet.
They had talked about moving in together. Ivo told her he was looking at apartments in Paris, had asked her to go with him after the opening, when she wasn’t so busy.
“Although, I anticipate your door will be beaten down by gallery owners worldwide,” he added with a smile and she kissed him.
“You’re biased.”
“True, but you really are that talented, never forget it.”
Sofia’s heart warmed now as she walked through the streets of her adopted city. How she been so lucky as to meet such a special guy. Instead of going home, she decided to go and see Stefan, her savior from when she was on the streets. He smiled and gathered her into a bear-hug.
“I hear you’re about to be a superstar,” he teased her, waving a copy of the magazine her profile had been sold to. Sofia rolled her eyes.
“Ha, not likely but at least I can pay my way. How’s business?”
Stefan grinned. “Very well. Almost too well. Since you were sick, since you met that man of yours, I seem to be getting a lot of orders from high-end restaurants for my produce. Know anything about that?”
Sofia chuckled. “Don’t thank me, thank Ivo. He’s the most generous man I’ve ever met.”
“You and him…”
Sofia flushed, nodding. “Pretty much.”
“Well, I’m glad for you, little one. Look here,” he pulled the cover of the stall up. “Look where you came from, look where you are now.”
Sofia felt tears prick her eyes. “I wouldn’t have survived without you, Stefan.”
She said goodbye to her friend a while later and walked home. She would bathe and get dressed for the party later, and was deep in thought, wondering what to wear, when she opened the main door to her building. She didn’t see him until she started up the stairs.
“Hi.”
An American accent. She turned to see a young man, about Ivo’s age with light brown hair and blue eyes smiling at her. “Hi.”
“I just moved in. Felix Hammond.” He stuck his hand out and she shook it.
“Sofia. You’ve taken Mme. Forniere’s old apartment?”
He grinned. “If Mme. Forniere lived in number three, then yes. I have to say, I’m a little relieved to know another American lives here. Or Canadian, I shouldn’t presume.”
Sofia laughed, warming to the newcomer, and his friendly manner. “No, you were right the first time. American-born, at least. What brings you to Paris?”
“Inspiration. I’m a writer. You?”
Sofia hesitated. “An artist. Actually, I do have to run – we have a gallery opening tonight.”
“Oh, yes?”
Sofia nodded. Seeing he looked interested, she dug around in her bag for an invitation, pulling out a rather crumpled one. She handed it to him. “Come along, if you like. There will be champagne and food, if nothing else.”
Felix thanked her, telling her he would see her later and Sofia said good bye. In the apartment, she showered and threw on her robe, going to the kitchen to dig out some food. Settling for some cheese and an apple, after eating, she lay on the bed, trying to quell the nerves. She had almost fallen asleep when she heard the door open. She opened her eyes and smiled.
“Hey, pretty girl.” Ivo bent down to kiss her as he pulled off his tie, and undid his shirt. She watched him as he stripped down, her beautiful man, his dark curls messy, his light green eyes crinkled with amusement. “You like what you see?”
He was naked now, his cock becoming stiff, as he gently pulled the tie of her robe open, then pushed the white fabric aside. He gave a groan of desire and buried his head in her belly, his tongue tracing circles around her bellybutton, his lips against her skin.
“I do like,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. He moved up her body to kiss her mouth, and they lay together, gazing into the other’s eyes. Outside, it had started to rain hard, and for a time, they stared at each other, listening to the sound of their breathing, and to the silence of the apartment. Finally, smiling down at her, Ivo wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed into her. Their lovemaking was gentle, tender, Sofia gasping as his cock drove her towards orgasm, his lips against hers. Ivo stroked the hair back from her face, watching her expression as she let herself go, almost delirious as he began to strengthen his pace. He drove himself deeper, harder, pressing her legs apart with his thighs, pinning her hands to the bed, forging a connection between them. Sofia couldn’t imagine being this way with anyone else. Her back arched up as she came, crying out his name. “Ivo, god, Ivo!”
She felt his cock erupt inside her, pumping thick creamy semen deep inside her belly. She loved this feeling, his seed within her core, was glad she had started to take birth control so they didn’t have to use condoms. She knew it would give her confidence to know he was inside her at the opening tonight. “I love you,” she whispered. Ivo smiled down at her, as he caught his breath.
“Was there a world before you?”
She giggled. “Cheesy.”
Ivo laughed. “You know it.” He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. Sofia traced her finger down his cheek as he stroked her belly. “You’re not too nervous about tonight, are you? It’s going to be fantastic. You’ll be the star of it, I know it.”
Sofia groaned. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s a done deal,” Ivo grinned, shrugging. “Maceo will be there,” he told her, mentioning the art dealer she had met in Venice. Maceo Bartoli had been a riot, fun-loving but also very serious about his work – and her work. It made her feel better that he would be there tonight.
“Some other friends from the art world too. Floriana Mallory will be representing the Mallory’s, you’ll love her. You’re both quite…how can I say it…alternative. Geeky goddesses.”
Sofia laughed. “Geeky Goddess? Is that how you see me?”
“Definitely.” He bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth.
Sofia considered, cradling his head in her arms as he pleasured her. “I kind of like that. Oh, and that…”
Ivo had switched to her other breast now, teasing the small bud until it was rock-hard and sensitive and Sofia gave a soft moan, closing her eyes. She felt his lips against hers again as he moved on top of her. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling his cock nudging at her cunt then sweeping in with a firm thrust. She opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her, his eyes soft with lobe.
“Still nervous about tonight?” He whispered and she shook his head as her body reacted to him.
“No…Not anymore, Ivo…not anymore.”
Felix Hammond – aka Grant Christo – listened to them making love through the bug he’d placed in Sofia Amory’s bedroom. He closed his eyes and imagined it was him fucking that beautiful girl, making her cry out and come. When Tamara had sent him here to make her ex-step-sister’s life a living hell, she hadn’t mentioned a lover. Perhaps she didn’t know.
No matter. He was here to do a job. Tamara’s instructions were clear – ruin Sofia’s peace of mind, her burgeoning career. Get her back to New York City. They would keep her as their sex slave, Tamara said, before they eventually killed her. Her eyes had been alive with arou
sal as she described the horrendous things she had planned for Sofia Amory.
“I want to break her,” she had hissed, astride him, riding his cock hard as she detailed the things she wanted to do to her nemesis. Now, Grant could see why Tamara was eaten up with jealousy over Sofia. Sofia was beautiful, exquisitely so, soft and lovely. Something Tamara could never be. Tamara had looked down at him as she fucked him to an explosive orgasm. “I want to watch you kill her slowly,” she had said, her face sweating with desire and rage in equal measure. “I want to watch her die on the blade of your knife.”
Grant smiled to himself now, listening to Sofia Amory’s cries of passion. No problem, he thought. As soon as he had seen her in the flesh, his hands itched to both fuck her and drive a knife deep into her. He could imagine the confusion, the pain on her face as he stabbed her to death. Why? She would ask. Why? As she bled out in his arms.
But he wouldn’t tell her. Sofia Amory would never know why she was being to brutally murdered – because the reason was simple and incomprehensible.
Because I wanted to kill you. Grant gave a soft chuckle and went back to listening to the girl whose death was all he could now think about.
Chapter Twelve
Sofia’s hands were trembling so much that she had to shove them between her knees. She and Ivo were in a cab on the way to the gallery. Ivo had warned her there would be press but when she stepped out onto a red carpet and flashbulbs started to pulsate, she gave a squeak of alarm and backed into Ivo’s arms. He chuckled and bent his lips to her ear.
“It’s okay, darling. Just hold my hand and I’ll get you through this.” He was true to his word, guiding her through the throng with only a few catcalls coming her and Ivo’s way. She guessed that their relationship would be public knowledge from now on and it made her feel a little sad.
Inside, Ivo took her coat, sweeping an admiring glance over the lilac dress she wore. It was form-fitting, hugging her breasts, her curves, and the color was rich against her dark skin. Ivo steered her into a private space before kissing her. “You look so beautiful, baby.”
Sofia kissed him back, pouring all her nervous energy into the kiss until, laughing, Ivo had to break away.
“I’ll never make it through this if I’m ‘tenting’,” he said, nodding down to his obvious erection. He looked glorious in a dark grey suit, the blue shirt he wore underneath playing up the green of his eyes. Sofia leaned against him.
“I love you, Ivo Zacca. This is all your doing, thank you.”
“You’re welcome but you give me too much credit. We are a team, you and me. For all time.”
Sofia nodded, love making her body warm, her nerves relax. “For all time,” she agreed. Ivo smiled at her.
“Ready?”
She took a deep breath in. “Ready.”
Elli Navaro threw her arms around Sofia. “Sweetie, it’s so good to see you.”
Sofia was delighted. “I didn’t think you could come! Oh, god, Elli, thank you, thank you for coming.”
Elli grinned. “Couldn’t stay away. Indio sends his love but he had to work, so he’s back home with the rug-rats. Maceo and Ori are here, though…I know you met Maceo, have you met Ori?”
Sofia shook her head and Elli bore her off to meet Maceo’s wife. Orianthi Bartoli was gorgeous, and sweet and she made Sofia feel like she was already an old friend. “Maceo has gone into business mode,” she complained with a grin, “and, darling, one of your pieces has already sold.”
Sofia bugged at her. “You’re kidding.”
Ori laughed. “Nope. Come on, let’s go see – there’s quite the crowd around your work.”
In the end, Sofia had arranged her work, with the Gallery painting in the center, flanked by the portraits of Desiree and Ivo either side, then the two abstracts one the ends. Sofia knew it wasn’t the most sophisticated or cohesive arrangement, but even so, it worked. She saw the Sold sticker on Ivo’s portrait and felt a pang of sadness.
Ori saw her face and whispered. “I wouldn’t be too sad to see it go – this is business and you have the real thing. A lot of young artists feel that way when they start selling their pride and joys. It is a spectacular portrait.”
“The model is pretty spectacular,” Sofia smiled but felt a little better. She saw Ivo talking to Maceo and another man, blonde, tall, handsome with a kind face, who she didn’t recognize. Elli followed her glance.
“Grady Mallory. The lovely Asian woman with him is his sister-in-law, Quilla. They run the most prominent art foundation in the world. You’ve heard of Ran Mallory?”
Sofia nodded. Who hadn’t? Ran was - or had been before his recent death – the most prominent member of a family who, for the most part, lived for art. His daughter-in-law Quilla’s foundation had been responsible for championing artists from impoverished backgrounds. Sofia had known all about the foundation, but then she was still a part of the Rutland family, she had hardly qualified as impoverished.
“Come and meet Grady and Quilla. Flori’s around somewhere,” Ori looked around. Sofia felt nervous but she reminded herself that was why she was here. She steeled herself. Elli, walking beside her, squeezed her hand.
“Deep breaths. It’s going to be fine.”
As they walked across the gallery, Sofia saw with amazement that both of her abstracts now had Sold stickers on them. In a flash, she was being introduced to the Mallory’s, and to a host of other people whose names she immediately forgot in the furor. She saw Ivo and Desiree chatting with other guests – Ivo caught her eye, mouthing, ‘Are you alright?’ and Sofia nodded. She really was. This was easier than she had expected – all she had to do was talk about her passion for art.
After an hour, Desiree made a speech, thanking everybody involved in the building of the gallery, especially Ivo. “My oldest, dearest friend, Ivo Zacca, you are a remarkable man. I called you for help and boy did you come through for me.” She looked over and raised a glass to Sofia. “Ladies and Gentlemen, our newest bright star, Miss Sofia Amory.”
A cheer went up and glasses were raised as Sofia went scarlet and tried to hide. Desiree laughed. “Sofia, never before have I had a debuting artist sell their entire exhibit in one night. Now, I do admit, that I did buy two of them myself. For one thing – a girl’s got to have a great portrait of herself to take home.” She bowed demurely to loud applause and much laughter. “And, of course, we couldn’t have the stunning painting of this place go anywhere else. So, I admit to purchasing those for myself. But, Sofia, I think I would have had a fight on my hands. Your future is more than bright, girl, it’s on fire.”
Sofia blushed again as applause rang out and faces turned toward her. She felt Ivo snake an arm around her waist and kiss her temple. “I love you, Piccolo,” he whispered and she beamed up at him.
Desiree went onto to thank her other artists, less they felt side-lined, but all Sofia could think about now was the man beside her. “I love you so much,” she murmured, her lips against his. The kiss turned into something not fit for company and giggling, they slipped out of the main room and into the side-rooms.
Ivo pressed her against the wall as he kissed her. “You know we were talking about getting caught?” His smile was mischievous, his eyes sleepy with desire. Sofia chuckled.
“There’s maybe about three hundred people next door.” She said but Ivo was already hutching up her dress around her hips, and once her touched her clit, she was helpless. Her hands went to his fly and she freed his burgeoning cock from his pants. Ivo tugged her panties from her with one swift move and Sofia gave a muffled cry as he thrust his cock deep inside her. They fucked hard and fast, Ivo’s strong arms supporting her, muffling their cries of release by kissing each other fervently. Recovering, Sofia burst into giggles. “This is the most amazing night,” she straightened her dress and Io tucked himself into his pants, grinning at her.
“Just the start of your stellar career, and of our life together.” He cupped her face in his cheek. “Sofia…live with me. I ha
ven’t found a place yet but I’d rather we found something we both love. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
And Sofia knew without a doubt what her answer would be.
He moved away from the door, his erection pressing painfully against his pants. Watching them fuck had made him hard, inconveniently so – but at least now he knew who was screwing Sofia Amory. Ivo Zacca.
Ivo freakin’ Zacca.
Grant smiled to himself and as he mixed back into the crowd, he wondered how Tamara would take the news that Sofia had bagged herself one of the most eligible billionaires on the planet. It would drive her wild. Grant promised himself that he would be fucking when he told her – Tamara’s angry sex was second to none and this would make her apoplectic. He would have to be careful. Tamara might want to move Sofia’s murder up to sate her rage, and he couldn’t allow that. He wanted to enjoy Sofia’s death, not rush it. He would find a way to sate Tamara and keep her in line.
He stayed on the periphery of the crowd, observing them all. There were a number of exceptional beauties in the room, he thought, anyone of them would be a pleasure to fuck – and to kill. All too high-profile, all too risky.
“Hey there.” Grant turned to see Sofia behind him. She smiled at him and his stomach twisted with desire. She was still flushed from love-making, her dusky skin had a beautiful pink blush high on her cheeks. A second later he was aware he was staring and shook his head, grinning ruefully.
“Sorry, sorry, hello again. I’m sorry, it’s just…you look breath-taking.”
More blushing. “Oh, um, thank you. Have you got a drink? Oh, you have, um…” She was adorably nonplused. He decided to save her.
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