by Pamela Ann
“You’re married?” Brody asked, flabbergasted.
I wished. “I was.”
“Where’s he now?”
Claudine. “With his future, where he should be. Where he belongs.”
~L~
“There’s mail for you.” Trista handed me an envelope before opening her purchases from her lavish online addiction.
There was no return address so I didn’t know where it had come from. My curiosity about the sender didn’t last long because when I opened the letter, it brought more ugliness. It was my finalization of the dissolution to my marriage with Dimitris.
My hands shook as I shoved the papers back in. I ran towards my room, locking the door before I buried it in the bottom of a drawer, wishing it away, wishing it gone.
No more Dimitris.
The thought of him brought new sadness, washing me with memories of him again. His easy laughter and his kind heart—he was so good to others—loved me even if I was ugly inside. I was a rotten person, only beautiful from the outside, however I was purely rotten to the core, like my mother.
I was just like her.
Hurting the only men that ever loved us—our husbands.
Chapter 23
Amber opted to stay because I wasn’t going to go with her on the trip to Milan. Therefore the long flight across the Atlantic gave me the time I needed to ponder the events that had happened between Amber and Brody.
Emma and Trista weren’t taking sides, which was great and all, but it would’ve been fantastic, too, if one of them had sided with me. It seemed that life had set out to give me one hurdle after the other. It didn’t even give me enough space in between to take a break and try to gather myself. It just kept on throwing punches, waiting for me to get knocked-out.
We checked into a hotel even though Luca, who I’ve never met, offered his home to us. Taylor and Bass didn’t like the idea of their women staying at the hot playboy’s palazzo. When Emma and Trista were readying themselves to go to dinner with Emma’s friends, I declined. Honestly, I just needed a night of my own—without Amber or Brody around.
I was probably asleep for an hour when Trista came knocking on my door. “Wake up and get dressed! We’re leaving for Monza in the next forty-five minutes.”
Not today, I won’t. “You guys go. I’m jet-lagged and had only an hour of sleep. Tonight, I’ll join you guys tonight,” I mumbled, ready to go back to sleep.
Trista sighed, disappointed in my lack of enthusiasm “You suck! Tonight it is then! Laters, doll.”
My life was so depressing, I thought sadly before succumbing to a deep coma-like sleep.
~L~
We were in a palazzo owned by Luca as we celebrated Jacques’s victory against the Luca himself. I suppose they were that good of friends that they didn’t have any jealousy or fights about who was the loser.
I was at the bar, waiting on my champagne when another man joined me, deep in thought.
“For fuck’s sake!” The man was losing his patience as he cut the ringing shrill of his phone off for the second time.
When his phone started ringing again, he ended it and slammed it back on the bar. “Bugger off!” he muttered, really getting my attention now.
I was halfway through my champagne when that thing went off again, driving me a little crazy. Turning towards the man next to me, I outstretched my hand, looking at the stranger for the first time. “If that’s an ex-lover that needs a reality check, give it to me so I can drink in peace.”
He handed me his phone, skeptical, but I grabbed it before he changed his mind.
“Will you please stop calling? You’re—” I paused, listening to the bitchy woman on the phone. “Callum?” I reiterated what the woman said, covering the cellphone while I whispered, “That’s you, right?”
He nodded, giving me a smile.
“Callum is occupied, right in between my legs. He will never be available to call you. Ever. Ciao!” I cut the call, sliding his phone back to him without looking at him.
He introduced himself, holding out his hand. “I’m Callum Kensington.”
Callum Kensington with the sexy British accent. Loved it! He took the expression Tall, Dark and Handsome to the next level. Shaking his hand, I gave out my name. “Lindsey Mason. Was secretly married, now secretly divorced.”
He lightly chuckled at my line. “Bollocks! I’m secretly married, too!” he chimed, entertained that we had something in common.
“I take it the woman I spoke to wasn’t her?”
“Certainly not. Stella and I aren’t involved in any sense,” he said in between sips of his drink and then flagged the barman for another round. “She’s practically a teenager. A baby.”
A baby? How young was this pseudo wife? “Hmm, I didn’t take you as a cradle robber.”
“I didn’t, either, well not really. My best friend asked me to. How could I say no to the man’s last dying wish?” Callum sat quietly, studying his whiskey with great concentration, possibly remembering the past.
“I don’t know what I’d do without my best friends.” Even though I might hate Amber right now, I wouldn’t want to wish anything bad happening to her. Deep down, I still loved that lying bitch.
Callum nodded, sliding his glass in between his hands. “Are you friends with any of the racers or are you here through handed invitation?”
I was on my phone, checking any messages as I responded to him, “My friend knows Jacques, Luca and Andrès. I’m invited through association. You?”
“Old buddy of mine dragged me here, but I’m old friends with the trio of adrenaline junkies. Dimitris should be here somewhere.”
There goes my calm composure. If this man turned out to be the same man, I was in for a long, painstaking kind of torture tonight. “Kosta?” I nervously added, having a hard time breathing.
“Yep. He’s quite popular. Are you one of his fans? I could introduce you, if you like.”
How thoughtful, I think not. “Actually, I’ve met him already, but thanks anyway. I’ve got to go and find my girls. I’ll see you around, Callum Kensington.”
~L~
When I found Emma and Trista, I acted like I wasn’t surprised to find Dimitris there, laughing and talking to Emma.
I stood there, hearing my heart pounding, deafening me while my sight focused on him. He hadn’t seen me yet, so I took the liberty of getting my fill of reacquainting my eyes with his form. Almost three months of not seeing him and still, he managed to take my breath away without effort.
I was going to go down in history as the ignoramus woman who let something so amazing go—setting it free without realizing what she’d had. Entranced and clearly out of focus, it was too late when I realized that Callum was right next to me, staring at his friend before looking at me.
“Huh.” His dark eyes narrowed, as if solving a puzzle. “It was you, wasn’t it? Four days. That was you?”
I stood still, not responding at all.
Callum cupped my elbow, pushing me forward. “Come on, he won’t bite—much.”
I knew he was teasing, but seriously, this wasn’t the time to joke about such subjects. “He has a girlfriend now. Why would he bite my head off?”
Callum halted, stopping us from walking before he faced me. “A man could shag hundreds of women and may never remember their names and faces, but ask a man who broke his heart and he’d tell you all about it in grave detail. A man always remembers.”
He and I paved our way towards our friends when I felt his gaze train on me. Gathering courage, I made a small effort to smile and greet him. “Hi.”
Dimitris just looked me up and down, continued to drink and looked away as if I wasn’t there at all.
I see how it is, I thought with seething anger.
“Let’s go dance!” Trista pulled Emma and me aside before she whistled at Jacques. “Frenchie! We need you for a bit.” Ha! They’d only met a day and Trista had the audacity to whistle at Jacques. She was the boss!
Jacques led the way towards the ballroom that was apparently turned into a nightclub for the occasion. I was beyond awed as I scrutinized the Frescoes that were painted all over the hallways from wall to ceiling. It was magnificently awe-inspiring.
The sexy Frenchman nodded his head. “The regular party is through here. This one.” Jacques pointed towards the velvet red double doors. “Never go in there unless you want to participate in an orgy, me comprenez-vous?”
“We have boyfriends, Jacques,” Trista answered Jacques before guiding us towards a large hubbub of partygoers.
Emma and Trista were busy on their phones while Jacques was pulled away towards the other side of the room. “What are you smiling about?” I yelled into Emma’s ear loud enough for her to hear me since the house music was thumping loudly around us.
She showed me the screen, a message from Bass. Don’t party too hard and forget you have a man waiting for you back home. Please be safe. I’ll see you in a few days. Love you.
Freaking Bass, I bet he was pissing on himself with worry, but I had to hand it to him, even though it was obvious that he’d rather lock Emma somewhere, he was at least trying to let her have a life without him, without demanding her give up everything to be with him. I liked that.
“Remember Golden BC amongst the hot Italian men, capisce?” I wiggled my brows at her. “I’m going to get some drinks. Oh, lookie—Jacques is on his way here. I’ll scan for you folks later, k?” I asked Trista and Emma, who agreed without ado.
I liked how Italians partied. It was very lavish, outrageously extravagant, yet done with class. Most of all, they enjoyed sex without apology for their blatant love of sexuality.
I wasn’t really aiming for a drink. Instead, I headed towards that velvet door. Heck yes, I was curious and what better way to go than being in a room amongst the creative folks, hmm?
Now, about that red door…
~Dimitris~
Athens
“I heard you weren’t coming? Are you too good for us now, Kosta?” Luca de Medici asked without even greeting me when he answered the telephone.
Life’s changed for me since my father wanted to retire in a year, so that meant lots of travelling, meetings, late night dinners, galas and being constantly on my feet. It was not a joke and frankly, it was a nice distraction. “Pure and utter bull. I have to go to Malaysia. Life is not about fun and games anymore, my friend.”
Luca snorted, thinking that I was full of it. “We’re going to have The Velvet Door open. Since the guests are only by invitation, it should go off without a hitch. Emma and her friends are coming. You sure you don’t want to join us?”
Velvet room… I think my heart had lodged in my throat when I managed to croak out, “What friends?”
“I believe Trista and Lindsey. I invited them to stay at the palazzo, but they insisted on staying at a hotel. I’m meeting them in Malpensa in an hour.”
I grunted, knowing how those girls were. They were probably curious and would venture out around the area.
Luca laughed, irritating me further. “Are they as hot as Emma?”
Dammit, fuck no. “I don’t remember. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll see what I can do about Malaysia.” I bid him goodbye before cutting the call. My mind had left me in complete and utter disorder.
She was going to be in Milan in an hour… a quick, three-hour ride, give or take…
I pressed on my temples, trying to calm myself. “No, don’t even think about it!” I muttered, talking to myself.
Something about hearing Lindsey’s name reminded me of the file that was in my computer. It was her cellphone videos and pictures. I had never seen what was inside the files, but now, I was curious. Call it an act of needing persuasion to stomp the meddling thoughts my heart was provoking, however I was hoping that there might be something in there that would make me hate her some more, so I could just go to Malaysia without hesitation.
Looking through them, there were a lot of pictures of her and the girls—nothing of Brody. I was about to go back and browse through her videos when one picture stood out, freezing me for a second. Leaning over my laptop screen, I saw a picture of me—looking at something, distracted. Maybe that’s why I never saw her take it. What really took my absolute attention, though, was the name she had on the picture, o sýzygós mou. My husband.
I found an answer to my earlier predicament, but now, more questions had arisen.
~D~
It was irrational and irresponsible of me to bow out and suspend my trip to Malaysia until next week, but who said a fallen man had a rational way of thinking? At first, I was mostly convinced that I could drop by, get a glimpse of her and then leave. That, of course, didn’t last long after I found her, still looking gorgeously breathtaking. What caught me off guard was when I saw Callum whispering into her ear. Of all the men to get her claws into, she had to choose a friend of mine?
When she finally greeted me, I couldn’t even utter a word because I was fuming inside. Dismissing her was rude, but at the same time, could she blame me? Even though I was talking and engaging with other people, I knew where she was at all times. With the way she was dressed and the fact that she was drunk, I wouldn’t be surprised if she did something crazy.
I was beyond furious with her, but at the same time, I wanted to drag her to the nearest flat surface and have my way with her body.
Nothing had changed, it seemed.
Chapter 24
I entered a darkened room; velvet everywhere except for the black marbled flooring. The hallway was lined with large ceramic bowls with rose petals, candles and small torches as the hallway opened up to a large four-rectangular grotto with women bathing each other in a pool, slowly caressing their breasts as they washed each other.
I could already hear moans of pleasure echoing everywhere. Jacques wasn’t kidding when he warned us about this place.
Mother hell, where am I? I definitely wasn’t in America, I thought, aroused as I saw a woman against a bench, bending over as the guy pummeled her while she snorted a line of coke, past caring about anything else.
Drugs around? Hell, I need to score some weed, I declared silently as I scanned for the place to get them. When I got to another corner, I found what I needed.
There were a lot of drugs around. I saw them on a table, like giveaway candy. BUT, I couldn’t find weed. “What kind of a kinky party is this without weed?” I complained out loud to no one in particular. Fuck, I needed to calm down before I went crazy. Weed used to help once in a blue moon.
“Is this the place where you really want to be… fucked?” Dimitris growled into my ear.
Ah, fuck. What was he doing here, anyway?
What a double standard douche. What did he know? Maybe I just wanted to watch people do it. “Why ask when you already know?” I arched my brow at him before looking away, dismissing him.
“I see. Once a slut, always a slut, isn’t that what they say?” Dimitris grit the question out, his angry tone made me want to prove to him that maybe I was.
Maybe I was just like my mother, just like what Uncle Brandon had said. When it came to me, drunk and thinking about the past wasn’t a great combo, but something about what Dimitris said simply made me feel like I was a slut. A lot of people thought I’d slept with a ton of men—okay, maybe five men—but who cared? I flirt and kiss a lot of men—tons—I suppose I was an oral slut more than anything.
“Watch me be a slut before your very eyes. Do you want me to suck another man in front of you? Or better yet, do you want me to suck him while you fuck me? Take your pick; I’m giving you sixty seconds to decide.” I knew I was daring him, but I had so much anger in me, I just wanted it to disappear while I rutted something good—even if it’d only last for a few minutes.
“You wouldn’t fucking dare! I’m going to kill you if you do something stupid like that!” Dimitris’s words were ringing in my ear. It was sad that I could still get turned on by this man, even if he was spouting the meanest, ugliest th
ings to me.
It wasn’t the words that pushed me really. It was the way he sounded… possessive; almost as if I was still his. He had Claudine. I had no one because the guy I had chosen pricked into my ex-best friend’s virginity a year after he took Cece’s and then never owned up to it. Everyone could just go to hell. I didn’t care anymore.
Steeling myself, I yanked my arm from his strong hold. “Watch me.”
Not looking back, I strutted with shaky legs yet with steel determination. “Everyone can just go fuck themselves!” I muttered under my breath, eyes scanning the throng of people getting their groove on.
There’s my meat, I thought as I found the guy who I wanted to mess around with. He definitely was Italian and I needed to get my fix as soon as I saw him light a nice roll, dressed from head to foot in designer clothes. “Feel like sharing?” I came onto him, my palm on his chest, slowly sliding it down with my eyes trained on him. I knew when my powers were working and I could see that this man was going to be putty in my hands.
“Sí… I’d like to share…” the Italian whispered, eyes glued to my lips, entranced. “You’re very beautiful, carina.” He then put the rolled up ganja to my lips, watching me in fascination as I sucked on it, inhaling the smoke, holding it before blowing it into his face. “Do you want more?” he asked in a husky voice.
Biting my lip, I nodded. “Yes, I want more.” The Italian let me take a few hits of his prime blunt before getting his hands on me. At that point, the weed worked its way into my system, making me feel deliriously good, so good that I hadn’t cared if Dimitris was around here, probably watching me from afar.
