Angelo: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Bella Love-Wins

  No. That was preposterous. It was terrifying.

  ...Right?

  Maybe it would have been a year ago. Or even a month ago. But today it wasn’t. The thought of giving Paige a ring, asking her to be mine for the rest of my life, seemed just right.

  One day. I would do it one day.

  I ran my fingers through the ends of her hair. “My love,” I whispered. “I want to give you my love.”

  Paige wiggled from my arms and turned onto her stomach. Propping herself up on her forearms, she stared at me.

  “Angelo,” she gasped.

  “You are mine, Paige,” I interrupted, before she could say anything else.

  I pressed my hand against her cheek. She grabbed hold of it and kissed it.

  “Good,” she grinned. “Glad to hear it.”

  Chapter Eighteen - Paige

  Ten Months Later

  “Oh… My… God,” Sophia gawked from the other side of the men’s underwear stand.

  My heart jumped and I hurried over to her. “What? Are you okay?”

  “You have to get Angelo these.”

  A silk pair of men’s boxers decorated with red chili peppers dangled from her hand. It’s hot in here, bloated text adorning both the front and the back of the underwear said.

  “That’s a waste of silk,” I blandly stated. “Such a great fabric doesn’t deserve to be used in that way. And you scared me. I thought something was wrong.”

  “Relax. You’re being paranoid.”

  I turned away from her and busied myself with the cotton briefs. “No I’m not,” I said to a shelf so that my twin wouldn’t see just how much her comment hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” Soph said after a minute. Her head poked around the stand, fiery red hair just as perfect as when we left the apartment hours ago. “Let me buy you a hot chocolate to make it up.”

  I tried to pout, but since I’m an awful actress my lips ended up in a contorted smile. “Don’t dangle chocolate in front of me. You know I can’t say no to that.”

  “Department stores make the best.”

  Giggling, I scooped up the three briefs I’d picked out. “I know that can’t be true.”

  Falling into step with each other, we began lackadaisically walking for the check out. Sophia fingered some long wool dresses on a rack. They looked like something nuns might wear but no doubt Soph would be able to take one and jazz it up in a way that made it haute couture.

  Jingle Bells came on the speakers, making it the fourth time the song had assaulted my ears that day.

  “Ugh.”

  “What?” Sophia asked.

  “This song.”

  “You used to love this song.”

  “I guess I’ve just heard it too many times.”

  We halted at the end of the line of shoppers. I craned my neck around, trying to get a rough head count of the people ahead of us. “Looks like we’re going to be here for a while.”

  “Is that all you’re getting Angelo?”

  I looked at the underwear in my hands. “No. Of course not.”

  She adjusted the large pile of clothes in her arms. Someone needed to get my shopaholic sister a grocery cart. She had something in her arms for everyone she knew, and likely had slipped a miniskirt in there for herself as well.

  “What else are you going to get him?”

  “I don’t know,” I sighed. “I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

  “How about a trip somewhere? You know, something the two of you could do together. Or even just an afternoon thing. There’s this cool new spa in Williamsburg. They offer these couples’ massages that are really unique...”

  Her words took on a buzz then all out faded away. Nearby, a male mannequin dressed in a sweater and boots leered at me. Was it just me, or had someone turned the heat in the mall up way too high?

  It had to be just me. I’d been increasingly feeling this way all month long. Or maybe before then. Maybe it started in November, once the Christmas tunes started cranking through New York. Every time there was so much as a suggestion of the holidays, I got queasy.

  There had been a time when I loved Christmas.

  I just couldn’t figure out quite when that time was.

  Sophia was done talking.

  “Yeah,” I said, hoping just agreeing with whatever she’d finished with was enough.

  “Good.” We took a few steps forward as the line progressed and she nearly dropped a pair of women’s boots. Boots most definitely in her size, for the record. “Are you ever going to clear your room out?”

  I studied her face. “Do you want me to?”

  Over the last ten months, since Angelo and I became an official couple, I’d probably spent less nights at mine and Sophia’s apartment than I had fingers. They’d all been days when Angelo was out of town and I went home to spend time with Soph. Though usually when we had sleepovers we just stayed at Angelo’s. He had door service, a bathtub that was really more like an indoor jacuzzi, and a penthouse bigger than most country homes. Plus, Sophia was known to enjoy sliding down the banister between the two floors after having a drink or two. Our rinky-dink apartment couldn’t really compare.

  Sophia’s face scrunched up. “No. I guess I don’t want you to leave.”

  “We could just give up the apartment. You could move… anywhere.”

  She looked slightly hurt. “Anywhere is big. I don’t want to be away from you.”

  My heart squeezed. I went to reach for her hand but, since it couldn’t be found underneath all the clothes, I gave up.

  “I can’t wait for tomorrow,” Sophia sighed. “Does this private jet, by chance, come with champagne?”

  “Likely.”

  “Male strippers?”

  “Doubtful.”

  “Shit.”

  “I’m nervous.”

  “About what? You already know Angelo's family.”

  “Most of them, yeah.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip and tried to figure it out. “It’s just… I don’t know… Maybe it’s because it’s Christmas. It makes me think of all the ones in the past.”

  “The ones with Mom and Dad?”

  “Yeah,” I choked out.

  “Have you been remembering any of them?”

  I shook my head.

  “But you might.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  But did I want to? I didn’t know. All I knew was I had this impending feeling of doom when it came to Christmas. That suggested I either had a bad and repressed or forgotten memory attached to it or I either had only joyful memories and was just struggling with celebrating the holidays past those.

  This is an assumption based on my past experiences working to figure myself out.

  But really, heck if I knew. I’m no shrink.

  We finally managed to check out. Escaping the mall into Columbus Circle was like being born again. The fresh and cold air hit my lungs, invigorating me and bringing me back to life.

  “It’s too hot inside places in the winter,” I grumbled as we ran across the circle in front of oncoming traffic. “It’s like stores are trying to convince us we’re in the Bahamas.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  We stopped at the subway entrance and she gave me a kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow?”

  “Bright and early.”

  She hurried down the steps, her four shopping bags so laden down with goods they nearly scraped the cement.

  Pulling my hat down further over my ears, I set off along West 59th, taking the path skirting the south end of Central Park. Though the air was icicle cold, the city had yet to receive its first snow fall.

  The lights of the fancy hotels glimmered even in the pre-dusk. This part of the city always hustled with activity, but this time of year added something special. Small potted fir trees lining the streets glowed with white Christmas lights. Doormen grinned as they hurried to help ladies with their bags. Children hung onto parents with
gloved hands and jumped up and down to see a policeman on a horse go by.

  I seemed to be the only one not enjoying the moment.

  Over the past year my memories had been slow coming back. They were mostly unimportant ones. A test taken at school in fifth grade. A sleepover at my junior high friend Jamie’s house on Staten Island.

  There wasn’t much in there about Christmas.

  I checked the time on my phone. Twenty minutes till I needed to meet Angelo at Rockefeller Center. I could take my sweet time walking there.

  Nothing screams Christmas like Rockefeller Center. After turning down onto Sixth Avenue then hanging a left onto 51st, I arrived at the plaza. Permanent trees strung with blue lights lined the zone, an introduction to the main multicolored Christmas tree.

  Ice skaters shrieked and laughed under the shadow cast by the large tree, spinning and flying on the pristine white rink. I stopped at the railing and pressed myself against it. Closing my eyes, I took a long breath. The sounds around me seemed to exist in a weird place between joy and terror. People could either be yelling from happiness or fear. It was hard to tell.

  Had it always been that way?

  Sophia’s comment about me being paranoid socked me in the gut.

  Because it was true. I was paranoid. And anxious. It was kind of hard not to be after you abruptly retrieved the repressed memory of your parents being murdered in cold blood right in front of you.

  Processing something like that took some time.

  I opened my eyes.

  And nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “Angelo!” I shouted.

  He stood only inches away, pressed against the railing just like me.

  “Sorry,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around my back. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay.” I buried my face into his coat.

  “How did shopping go?”

  “Sophia got herself a lot of nice things.”

  He chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

  “How was your meeting?”

  “Good. Looks like we’re making some leeway with the Louisiana properties.” His hand trailed down to grasp hold of mine. “You ready to go home?”

  Home.

  There could be nothing better than hearing him say the word.

  Angelo hailed a cab and we climbed in, snuggling up next to each other in the corner. The light slipped away from the streets as we rode through Manhattan, being replaced instead with the artificial twinkling of the holidays.

  The penthouse welcomed us, the perfect temperature. Not too cold. Not too hot. Nothing like a stuffy shopping mall.

  Yep. Hands down, Angelo’s was my favorite place in the city.

  No sooner did my coat hit the hanger in the front closet than did Angelo’s hands wrap around my waist.

  I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against him. He kissed the back of my neck, teasing me around my most sensitive spot there. His palms pressed against my stomach, pulling my back into his chest, and rubbing my ass against his groin. With a growl and a nip against my throat, he swooped me up and carried me across the living room.

  Setting me down on the couch, he climbed on top of me. His tie trailed across my navel and I grabbed hold of it and pulled him down for a kiss.

  The kiss got hungrier and hungrier. His tongue pushed across mine, exploring my mouth, looking for the next big excitement.

  Despite being together for almost a year, sleeping with Angelo never got boring. Never.

  I spread my legs wider, nearly falling off the couch in the process. Kissing me deeper, Angelo, sent his hand under my skirt. With a fluid unroll, my tights came down to my ankles.

  I started to kick my flats off so that I could get the tights off as well, but Angelo abruptly broke his kiss to flip me sideways. My face pressed into the cushions.

  A buckle jingled as Angelo undid his belt. One arm slipped underneath me and he pushed his chest against my back. Sandwiched there, I couldn’t move.

  He entered me gently, his hot breath washing into my ear.

  I whimpered softly, all my muscles going limp. Taking my ear lobe between his teeth, Angelo nibbled and pumped into me.

  I wiggled a little bit, testing out my free rein, but there was nowhere to go. I was held captive.

  ...And enjoying every second of it.

  Angelo's other hand came around my waist to press between my legs. Delicately he rubbed there, adding to the pleasure. I cried as pleasure expanded into an orgasm, pounding through me like thunder.

  Sensing my release, Angelo growled in satisfaction.

  Withdrawing from me, he flipped me over onto my back and pulled my tights off. Leaning down to press our chests together, he entered me again. His tongue against mine mimicked the movement of his hips, pulsing and pushing into me.

  He sped up a little bit, shuddering slightly. I bit his bottom lip, pulling it just hard enough. He came hard, grunting into my mouth.

  I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. He scooted down a bit to put his head against my chest.

  Already my eyes were getting heavy. Working to suppress a sigh, I trailed my fingers through his hair.

  “I’m glad you’re coming tomorrow,” Angelo whispered into my shoulder.

  My throat got tight. I was glad, but terrified.

  Yet I felt I couldn’t say that, since I couldn’t really explain why I was so scared.

  The best I could do would be to just try and forget about the sick feeling in my stomach.

  And hope that it would one day go away.

  Chapter Nineteen - Angelo

  Sophia leaned back in her cream-colored leather seat, her stiletto boots kicking into the air.

  “You couldn’t get a bigger jet?”

  I stared at her.

  “Kidding!” she exclaimed. “I’m totally kidding.”

  “Not everyone gets your sense of humor, Soph,” Paige chided her from a facing seat.

  Sophia rolled her eyes. “You mean not everyone understands genius? I think Angelo got it just fine.”

  “Don’t worry,” I answered, closing up my laptop and putting it away. “Next time I’ll call the president and see if he’s using his jet that weekend.”

  “Thank you,” Sophia smiled.

  Next to me, Paige picked up her martini glass and plucked the olive from its contents. I tried not to stare as she sucked the gin from the fruit.

  “What do you think, Angelo?” Sophia asked. “Is it worth selling?”

  I ran my palm across my jaw and thought about it. “That depends on how much effort you want to put into the place. You’re pretty busy as it is.”

  She shrugged. “I only have one job.”

  Paige guffawed into her drink.

  We all knew about Sophia’s second job. She just preferred we didn’t talk about it much.

  Still, it could be hard to ignore the elephant in the room. Or, more specifically, the professional assassin.

  “Plus, it’s my call which DJ gigs I take,” she went on. “It’s entirely up to me to make my own schedule in that department. And I’m kind of liking the real estate game. It’s like playing poker, you know? Negotiating is all a mental game.”

  Paige jutted her chin at her sister. “Have you ever played poker?”

  Soph winked. “I’ve got lots of secrets.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I replied, amused. “What are you thinking? You girls want to go back to Italy and see it yourself?”

  They exchanged a glance, using that impossibly decipherable and silent twin language.

  Upon finding out they had been given Paige’s deceased almost-husband’s property in Italy, the three of us took off to Italy to inspect the goods.

  Moretti’s mansion had been impressive. And so were the millions that the girls got for selling it.

  Funny enough, though, they still kept their little apartment and Paige still worked her regular office job. They seemed to have attachments to those things, something I just didn’t
understand. It’s funny how much we can not want routine things to change.

  Under my tutelage, they invested the money and began to get their hands into real estate. Mostly Sophia was the interested one. Paige didn’t seem to care much either way. She hadn’t wanted the house in Italy.

  She didn’t want anything of Moretti’s. Which explained why she’d been more than eager to invest the money rather than spend a cent of it.

  “Sell it,” Paige said, referring to Moretti’s second property, the one we had yet to deal with. “Or burn it to the ground.”

  Sophia rolled her eyes. “We might as well burn money.”

  I cleared my throat, sensing budding tension. “Let’s talk about it after the holidays.”

  “Deal,” Paige replied, leaning into the side of her seat so that her shoulder brushed mine.

  “Who all is going to be in Chicago?” Sophia asked.

  “Let’s see. My parents. And Franko, Dominic, and Lia...”

  “God, I haven’t seen Lia in years!”

  “I still don’t remember her,” Paige said.

  “You haven’t met… or, I guess, re-met her?” Sophia asked.

  “Nope. She’s the only person in Angelo’s family that I haven’t, I think.”

  I rubbed the top of Paige’s thigh. “She’s going to be thrilled to see you both. Oh, I almost forgot! Tre will probably be there as well. He’s kind of become a staple at Salvatore gatherings.”

  “And what about crazy family rituals?” Sophia pressed. “Anything there we need to prepare ourselves for? Any chanting over the ham or dancing naked around a bonfire in the woods?”

  “We’re not pagans, Sophia.”

  A shiver ran through the arm Paige pressed against me. I reached over and rubbed both her shoulders. “Are you all right? Are you cold?”

  “I’m fine,” she said to a spot six inches off from my face.

  “You’re pale.”

  Paige looked at the floor. “Really, I’m fine. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

  Sophia’s lips pursed.

  Something was going on.

  “What is it?” I questioned.

  They exchanged a look.

  “All right,” I nearly shouted. “I can respect your psychic twin abilities most of the time, but sometimes it gets pretty annoying. If something is going on...”