by Sofia Tate
Standing outside my father’s study, I stare at the faces of my family’s attorney, Leonard Preston, and my mother. Leonard nods his head determinedly, while my mother looks at me with worry etched across her face.
I reach for her hand, holding it tightly. “We need to do this, Mom.”
“I know,” she replies shakily.
I don’t even bother to knock, throwing the door open, making my father jump in his desk chair, dropping his cell phone.
“What the hell?” he shouts at us.
“Time’s up, Dad,” I declare. “We’re going to the Feds.”
“No chance in hell,” he snaps back at me.
I stomp over to his desk, the cherrywood object serving as the barrier from me pummeling my father’s face.
“You fucking bastard! Just for once in your life, think of someone other than yourself. What about those pensioners you stole from?”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“And what about Mom? You care about what happens to her? Your own wife?”
Fire shoots from his eyes at me, but I can’t be intimidated by him.
Preston takes a step toward us. “I’ve been in touch with Malcolm’s lawyer, Hart. He’s turning himself in, and as your legal counsel, I advise you to do the same. I can only imagine that if you don’t, he might implicate you, saying that it was all your idea and you forced him into it.”
My father slams his fists on his desk. “He wouldn’t do that, Lenny!”
“In my experience, a person will do just about anything to save themselves from prison,” he replies knowingly.
Before my father can answer, my mother’s voice breaks the silence in the room. “Hartwell, I’ve been married to you for forty-five years. I’ve been the dutiful wife. The image of the perfect lady of Manhattan society. You’ve given me a very good life and a son, who I love with all my heart. I’ve never questioned anything you’ve done. But now you have to do what is right. You have to pay for your mistakes. And I will be there in the courtroom with you, sitting right behind you when the judge hands down your prison sentence, still playing my role. You have no choice. For once in your life, it’s time to listen to me and your son.”
I watch as my father spins his chair away from us, looking out the window. Before Preston, my mother, or I have a chance to repeat our pleas to him, I hear my father mutter, “I’m sorry, Mona.”
“Turn around, Hart,” my mother asks of him gently.
He doesn’t bother to do that, but instead he rises from his chair and walks over to her, taking her hands in his. “I’m so sorry, Mona. For everything. The only reason I hesitated before was because I was worried about my reputation. The reputation of the company. Our reputation and social standing.”
My mother steps closer to my father. “None of that matters. You’re doing what’s right. And I’m proud of you.” She leans in and takes him in her arms. I don’t know how long it’s been since I saw my parents exchange any form of affection, and I can’t help but warm at the sight of it.
“So,” Preston asks trepidatiously, “does this mean you’ll give yourself up?”
“Yes, Lenny,” he tells him, still holding my mother. “Make all of the arrangements. Just give me as much time as you can so I can be at home with my wife. I promise I won’t go anywhere.”
“Of course. I’ll call my contacts downtown and take care of it.”
I exhale in relief. “Thank you, Dad,” followed by something that unexpectedly escapes from my mouth before I know I’m even saying it: “I’ll come with you when you go to the Feds.”
My father turns away from my mother to look at me, a shocked look on his face. “It’s all right, Davison. You don’t have to do that.”
I stare back at him, resolved in my decision. “Yes, Dad. I want to. I need to. For our family.”
He stretches out his hand to me. “I don’t deserve that, but thank you nonetheless.”
I shake it in return. “You’re welcome. Just send me the details when you have them. I’m going to go now.”
I step over to thank Leonard. Before I walk out, I embrace my mother. “I love you, darling. And thank you,” she whispers in my ear.
“I love you too, Mom.”
I rush to the front door, anxious for the fresh air outside and something even more than that.
I need Allegra. Right fucking now.
With the Maybach idling in front of the house, I slip into the backseat, Charles already up front at the wheel.
“Get me home, Charles. You see a yellow light, floor it. Understood?”
“Understood, sir.”
* * *
When I step out of the elevator, Allegra is waiting for me, dressed in nothing but one of my Harvard T-shirts that hits her just above the knee. I can only imagine what I look like, disheveled and exhausted, but when I stare into her eyes, all I see is the love for me reflected in them. I need her, and I ache for the feel of her in my arms.
She doesn’t say a word as she steps toward me, wrapping her arms around me. I dive my head into her silky hair, filling my nose with the sweet scent of her coconut shampoo. I wrap around her, holding on to her like a vise.
“I love you, Allegra. I love you so fucking much,” I whisper in her ear. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“That’s something you’ll never experience, because I will never leave you,” she replies to me soothingly in that sweet voice of hers. “I love you too, Davison.”
I scoop her up and head for the bedroom, with her arms around my neck, her head nestled on my shoulder. I can hear her hum contentedly, making my dick even harder and my heart threaten to burst out of my chest.
When I reach the bed, I lay her down gently. She sits up and in one swift move, yanks the T-shirt off, immediately lying back down. Her eyes are locked on mine as I undress, leaving all of my clothes in a pile on the floor.
I crawl up the bed to get to her, hovering over her on all fours. I’m hard and desperate to be inside her.
But she has other ideas.
“Fuck my tits, Davison,” she commands of me.
I raise my eyebrows at her, both from shock and overwhelming love for this woman, who never fails to surprise me.
With her eyes blazing at me with utter lust, I smirk at her. “Why don’t you show me what you have in mind, baby?”
As if I don’t know what she meant.
I swear…this woman…fuck if I’m not the luckiest bastard on the planet.
Her steady hands grab my ass, bringing me closer to her. I grip the headboard and kneel on either side of her shoulders. I’m mesmerized by the sight below me as she brings my dick between her two succulent breasts. She clamps it, pushing them together, cushioning and massaging it lodged in the cradle of her soft flesh.
I watch as she lifts her head and starts licking the tip of my cock like a lollipop, swiping off the precum with her tongue.
“Fuck me, you are a goddess, Venus. I can watch you do that for ages,” I rasp, barely able to form a coherent sentence because of the erotic scene playing out underneath me by my exquisite girlfriend. She looks up at me, her eyes hooded and her lush pink lips clamped over my dick.
Allegra continues to lick me, but before I know what’s happening, she carefully sits up and pushes me down on my back. I don’t even have a chance to ask her what she’s doing when I feel my cock in her mouth, first licking the veins along the sides, then swallowing me whole, working her mouth up and down, humming as she tastes me wholly.
I reach down to grip her hair, not too tightly but enough to indicate to her that I’m loving every second of what she’s doing to me, running my fingers through her silky strands.
My muscles begin to lock as I can sense the release coming, the one that only my Allegra can bring.
“I’m coming…” I shout out to prepare her.
Finally, I roar as I come, spurting into her mouth. When she frees my cock from her mouth, she places her head on my torso, rubbing her chin again
st my skin to wipe it clean.
I caress her head as she rests after giving me that mind-blowing orgasm. “Gotta tell you, I didn’t see that coming at all.”
“What can I say? You inspire me, Harvard,” I hear her reply.
“And you know you do the same for me, right?”
“I hope so,” she whispers.
I’m not happy with the sound of her reply. “Come here to me.”
Allegra raises herself, making her way up my body until she reaches my shoulders and I can wrap my arms around her.
“You’re the one who pushed me to confront my father because you knew it was the right thing to do. You always make me want to do better, to be better. And nobody has ever had that kind of effect on me.”
I lift her chin up so I can see her eyes, wet with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she murmurs.
I gently kiss her lips. “You’re welcome, baby. Now get on your back so I can reciprocate and fuck you senseless.”
She sighs. “If you must…” she teases me in that sexy voice of hers.
I must.
* * *
Allegra
“Thank you, Miss Orsini.”
I stare at the panel of judges in the small auditorium that’s being used for the regional auditions for the Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions near Lincoln Center. I sang my go-to aria, “Sì, mi chiamano Mimi” from La Bohème. I’d never been so nervous before, probably because I knew how much was riding on this. My graduation recital and even my month with La Diva were so much different in tone and emotion than this. I was never nauseous for either of those. I practically downed an entire liter of ginger ale to calm my nerves before it was my turn to sing.
This is the second day of the auditions. I made it through the first round and was picked for the second to perform in front of a small crowd. I asked only Lucy to come with me because Davison’s presence would’ve attracted too much attention, and he was so busy working with the Berkeley family attorney dealing with the arrangements for the date when his father would turn himself over to the Feds.
I’m now moving into a room where I’m sequestered with the rest of the finalists to await the judges’ decision. I know a few of the other finalists from the opera circles that I was introduced to while I was at the conservatory, so we shoot the breeze until someone walks in and tells us the judges have made their decision.
We all wait offstage, pacing the floor, fidgeting with our hands. There are six of us, with one winner who will advance to the semifinals.
Finally, the winners are announced.
I don’t win third place. And I don’t place second.
“And the winner is…Allegra Orsini!”
I gasp in shock as I feel the others patting my back and one of the volunteers pushing me out. My mouth goes dry as my pulse starts racing. I’m trembling as I make my way onto the stage. When I reach the center, I take a bow and place my hands over my heart, a gesture of thanks to the judges.
There’s a reception afterward for the finalists, which I plan to attend, but first, I dash into the audience. Lucy rushes to me to hug me so tightly we can’t breathe.
“I’m so proud of you, Alli!” I hear her squeal in my ear.
“I can’t believe it! I have to call Davison and Papa, but my purse is backstage.”
Lucy reaches into her bag and yanks out her phone, shoving it at me. “Call!”
I punch in Davison’s number with shaky fingers. He picks up on the first ring.
“You won, didn’t you?” I can hear the smile in his voice.
I want to cry, perceiving the certainty in his voice that I’ve won and that he knows it’s me on the phone and not Lucy. “Yes,” I murmur.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, baby,” he replies, warming me all over with the love I hear in his voice.
Tears are now flowing freely down my cheeks. “Thank you, Harvard. Listen, I have to go to the reception now, but…”
“Just call me when you’re done and I’ll come pick you up. I want a quiet night with you tonight,” he says softly.
The decrease of the timbre in his voice puts me on alert. “Of course. Anything you want, Harvard.”
“I’ll see you soon, Venus.”
* * *
Two hours later, when I step out of the building where I’d spent most of the day that ended unexpectedly, the first person I see is Davison, standing next to the Maybach, holding a bouquet of a dozen pale apricot roses, my favorites. His eyes are hidden by his black aviator sunglasses, but the wide smile across his face is fully out on display, all for me.
“Congratulations, baby,” he greets me with that sexy rumble of his.
I step forward to him, taking the flowers from him and giving him a long, deep kiss, his hands wrapped around my head.
“God, I needed that,” I murmur. “I’m so exhausted.”
“Come on, let’s get you home.” He takes me in one hand while opening the car door for me with the other, gently nudging me inside.
Once Charles pulls away from the curb, I crawl over and settle myself in Davison’s lap. “Okay, tell me the latest with your father.”
He removes his sunglasses and takes a deep breath, exhaling before answering me. “Tomorrow. We’re going to the Feds tomorrow.”
I nod in understanding. “Do you want me to—”
“Yes,” he replies. “I want you to come with me. I need you with me, Allegra.”
Yet again, I’m not surprised how natural it was for him to know what I was offering without having to say it. “Of course, Davison. I love you.”
He glances down at me, his emerald eyes boring into mine. Then he does something familiar, something that makes my heart race, my pulse quicken, and my pussy begin to moisten with desire.
He pushes the intercom button on the side panel. “Stoplights, Charles.”
“Yes, sir.”
Davison presses a button to raise the partition between us and the front seat. I straddle his lap as he begins to unbutton my silk blouse, stroking my hardened nipples through my cotton bra.
“I never appreciated the necessity of stoplights until I met you, Davison Cabot Berkeley,” I mutter huskily.
“Oh, the things I’ve yet to teach you, Allegra Orsini,” he promises me before clamping his lush lips over mine and plunging his hot, silky tongue in my mouth.
Chapter Twenty
Davison
Fuck!”
Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my walk-in closet, I look down at the carpeted floor, completely covered in neckties, their labels mocking me from where they’re lying on the ground.
I can’t focus.
I can’t focus because I’m preparing to help my father surrender to federal authorities for running a bogus scam and bilking senior citizens out of their life savings.
I can’t find the right tie to go with my suit. My decision-making capabilities are fried from the events of the last few days.
I don’t even notice Allegra next to me until she gently places her hand on my shoulder. “Let me help you, Davison,” she whispers in a soft but firm voice.
She glances down at the floor around my feet. “Yellow stands out too much, red is too brazen, and gray is too dull,” she comments. “You need an understated color that won’t overwhelm, yet something that will display your strength.”
Her eyes roam over me as she takes in my blue suit, then moves to the tie rack and begins shuffling through them, finally pulling out the perfect one, which I completely disregarded—a dark blue Armani tie that matches my jacket and trousers but contrasts against my pale shirt.
She hangs it around my neck and under the collar, allowing me to finish the task, using her beautiful long fingers to tighten it in the hollow of my collarbone and smoothing it out.
“There,” she says, stepping back to admire her work. “That’ll do.”
I stare into the mirror. She’s right, of course. Now I can face the Feds.
She turns my chin so she ca
n look into my eyes. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be with you the entire time.”
She’s in a cream dress with a black lace collar, the same one that she wore when she went to my parents’ house for the first time. My heart swells inside my chest with my love for her and the eternal gratitude I’ll always hold for her coming into my life.
I lean in and give her a long kiss. “Thank you, baby.” I glance at my watch. “We’d better go.”
Taking her hand, I lead us out of the bedroom, grabbing my phone and wallet on the way out. We don’t say a word to each other until we get into the Maybach.
The building that holds the federal offices where we’re meeting my father is less than a five-minute drive from my apartment near the World Financial Center. When we pull up, only our family attorney is waiting for us outside.
I get the door for Allegra as I usually do, then join her and Leonard Preston on the sidewalk.
“Malcolm Canterbury is already inside with his wife and daughter,” he informs us. “Your father called that he and your mother will be here shortly.”
Just as I nod to acknowledge him, I spot my parents’ black Mercedes sedan pulling up to the curb.
Their driver steps out to open the door for them. My mother is dressed in one of her Chanel suits, and my dad looks somber in a dark gray Armani three-piece.
My mother kisses both Allegra and me on the cheek, while my dad simply addresses us by our names with a quick nod.
“Good, we’re all here. Let’s go in,” Preston declares authoritatively in an attempt to move us along.
I grab Allegra’s hand and join the others as we start to walk toward the entrance of the building when I hear a loud pop ring out. Before I can comprehend what’s happening, my father falls to the ground, the dark gray of his suit jacket covered in red from the blood gushing out of him.
“Get down!” I shout, falling on top of Allegra, watching as Preston does the same to shield my mother.
Just as I push Allegra down on the concrete, I hear another shot, then a burning pain shoots through my left shoulder. I scream out in agony. I can hear her shouting my name when I sense someone’s hands on my right shoulder, wrenching me off her and turning me over. The pain in my shoulder is unbearable and I know that I’m about to pass out. As I swivel my head back and forth, in my field of vision, I spot a man in a blue shirt yelling into a walkie-talkie, and similarly dressed men are running everywhere, guns drawn.
