Page 37 of Sinful Lies

With a flirtatious smile, she excused herself and got up.

I couldn’t help but let out a quiet scoff, reaching for a shrimp and biting into it.Hard.

Lazzio’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t even bother glancing in my direction.

Then, the words he’d said this afternoon started to echo in my head—heavy, burning, and just as infuriating as before.

You really know how to pick them, don’t you?

I glanced around the table, everyone lost in conversation, chattering, and laughing loudly.

Leaning in, I couldn’t resist. “You should probably follow her. She doesn’t seem too bright—might get lost out there. Wouldn’t want her to slip away before you get yourturn, huh?”

I reached for my champagne glass and took a slow sip, my eyes never leaving him.

I tilted my head, a playful pout curving my lips. “But then again, that’s your type, right? Dumb, pretty, and completely self-absorbed. Youreallyknow how to pick them, don’t you?”

“Jealous,diavoletta?”

I set my glass down, and leaned back. “Jealous?Please. More like bored.”

Why would I be?

I couldn’t stand the man with his perfectly tailored suits and that cold, detached persona. It made me think he had never actually lived a day outside of his perfectly curated life.

“Ah, I didn’t realize my sex life was your entertainment, Miss Whitenhouse,” he said, his voice smooth and dark. “But if you’re looking for a show, you’ll be waiting a long fucking time. I’m not in the habit of letting anyone watch.”

“That’s not what I heard, Lazzio.”

A couple of months ago, at one of our exhibitions, I overheard some girls in the bathroom gossiping about him. Apparently, he had a threesome with two girls—one had to watch while he did the other, and the other had to do the same.

Absolutely disgusting.

“You’ve been spying on me now?” he drawled.

“Every day, every night,” I sighed, feigning exhaustion. “You’re like a parasite. Always there, forcing me to waste my time on your questionable behavior. Honestly, I’d call it a public service to keep an eye on you.”

For the first time in the four years I’ve known him, he laughed.

A dark, earth-shaking laugh that curled between my legs.

I tilted my head. “Women must be not only dumb but also blind to fall for your pretty face and miss the gaping void where your heart should be.”

The corner of his lips lifted. “Maybe they’re hoping to fill it.”

“With what? Cheap perfume, a blowjob, and crocodile tears?”

“You tell me. It’s clearly working on you, Miss Whitenhouse.”

“Working?Please.” My gaze flicked over him, unimpressed. “You’d have to try a hell of a lot harder, Lazzio.”

His smirk deepened. “Let me know when you’re done lying to yourself.”

I didn’t get a chance to reply—thankfully—because the butlers arrived with trays of food. Frankly, I was in no mood to entertain him any longer.

I excused myself with a tight smile—three glasses of champagne were working their magic, and nature was calling.

I made my way to the restroom, expertly avoiding anyone who might want to chat.

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