Page 2 of His Vicious Desire

Embarrassed, I nod.“I hate these shoes.”

His eyes narrow, and he looks down at them.He lets me go, and this time, I’m prepared and find myself backing up from him.

“There you are, Gaetano.This is my sister, Bianca.Bianca, this is Gaetano.He’s going to help me by keeping an eye on things.”Sandro comes from behind me.

Gaetano’s phone number is in my phone, along with Luca’s and Bobby’s.I’ve never called the number or met the man.It’s only in case of an emergency.Sandro has talked about Gaetano, and I’ve heard his side of numerous conversations with the man.He’s Sandro’s other best friend since before I was born.

The guy is exactly what I thought he would be: a broad bull of a man in all black.He’s a threat, a promise of violence in male form, and my stomach flips a thousand times, wondering what it would be like to be pressed up against him on purpose.Is there any softness to him at all, I wonder.

The air becomes cool, and the burning in his eyes disappears with a single blink.“Ah, the princess.The girl of the hour.Happy birthday, and congrats.”

His words are mocking,princessandgirlfeel like an insult.Anger fires through me and straightens my spine.“Thank you.Sandro, you never told me your best friend here was so much older than you.I hope it won’t be too much for you to work the party tonight.Wouldn’t want you falling asleep at the wheel on your way home.”

I say it aware he’s only two years older than Sandro.Despite it being a jab at him, it’s also the truth.The man looks at least ten years older than Sandro—especially with the silver in his beard.Sandro only has a few streaks of silver in his hair, and he doesn’t have a beard.I finally understand what people mean when they talk about a hard life showing on someone.This man has had a hard life, there’s no doubt in my mind.

I don’t miss the way his jaw tightens.He looks to Sandro.“You’re going to owe me for putting up with these kids.I’d rather work the truck coming in than be here.”

Sandro chuckles.“Sorry, I’ll owe you.I need you here.You’re the only one I trust to keep these girls in line.”

Shaking his head, Gaetano walks away with a muttered curse in Italian.I hate the way it feels like a direct insult at me.“Why is he such a dick?”

An eyebrow goes up.“Gaetano doesn’t like people, and he really doesn’t like brats.What was that?Why were you so rude?”

Stung, does Sandro think I’m a brat?“He started it.Calling me a princess and a girl like it was an STD or something.He’s never even met me.Where does he get off being so rude?”

“He’s mentioned a few times that he thinks I spoil you.There’s also the fact that Gaetano is not a party kind of person.I had no doubt he’d be able to shut shit down with a look, so I asked him to be here.Be nice.Please.”

“Fine,” I mutter and keep walking toward the restrooms.

It wasn’t fair.I’malwaysnice.Fuck Gaetano, I’m not a brat.My whole life I was raised to be a good girl, to behave, to never ask for more than I deserved, and I didn’t deserve anything more than a roof over my head and food in my belly—my father bore it into my brain even before my mother’s death when I was seven years old.

Marissa, my nanny, might not have used the same words.Yet they weren’t much different.I wasn’t to question or ask for things from my father or Sandro.If I was a good girl, I would be rewarded.What the reward was, I was never told.I thought it would be my brother and father’s love.It turned out to be things Sandro could buy me…kind of like this party.

I breathe deep.I had Sandro, and he tried, and he cared.And I needed to be grateful for it.I am.I really am.

“Oh my god, Bee!Who the hell was that scary, sexy man you and your brother were talking to?”Kitty asks as she comes up behind me.

I barely manage not to roll my eyes.Kitty is one of the frenemies, someone who would knife me in the back while she’s smiling to my face, given the chance.She knows I hate being called Bee.But she accuses me of being a snob for wanting to be called Bianca.“A guy who works for my brother.Excuse me, I have to pee.”

Actually, I don’t, but I also don’t want to talk to her.I’m saved by Joanna, my actual best friend coming in.“Bianca, oh my god, that guy is sooo freaking hot.He saved you from falling at his feet, but girl, I’d have no problem going down on my knees for him.”

I close the stall door on her.

“I was telling her the same thing.She says he works for her brother.Does that mean what I think it means, Bee?Is he packing heat?”Kitty giggles

Free to roll my eyes, I do as I force myself to pee.

“I’m not answering that question.And it’s not fun and games.”I say for the thousandth time.A memory flashes of Sandro coming home bleeding, assuring my mother he could sew up his own wound.He only needed her to get him some towels and the kit under the sink in the bathroom.Then my father shot, and blood everywhere as my brother and Luca carried him into the house.Of watching the doctor dig out the bullet in his leg as he begged Luca for something to put him under.There wasn’t anything to put him under, but Luca gave him a handful of pills he took with a large swallow of whiskey, and the way he screamed as the doctor sewed him up.

None of it was fun and games.22222Flushing the toilet.I shake my head as I come out of the stall.

They’re staring at me as I walk out.“What?”

They move so I can wash my hands.

“You like him,” Joanna whispers, her eyes wide.

“Ooh, Bee, did you bump into him on purpose?”Kitty’s eyes are bugging out.

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