Page 2 of Vicious Heir

Beautiful and deadly. The son of the Marino Famiglia’s leader. The most eligible bachelor and deadliest man in all of Philadelphia.

“I take it the party’s in full swing,” he says, watching me with a careful expression. He’s not angry or amused, but something else. Wary and curious, maybe.

“Swingis probably the right word.”

A slight curve of his scarred lips. “Was that a sex pun?”

“Right, like swinger? Sorry, it’s not a good one.”

“What’s your name?”

I hesitate. Should I tell him the truth? Or make something up? But I’ve never been a very good liar, even though I’m related to Grandmother. I should’ve absorbed more evil just by osmosis, living in the same house as her, but I guess the Willing-Morris mansion is big enough that she hasn’t rubbed off on me completely yet.

Figure out what he likes, then use it against him.

“Lucy,” I say, apparently not quick enough to come up with something fake. But it’s a common name, right? It’ll be fine, probably. “You’re Adriano, aren’t you?”

“That’s me.” He tilts his head, considering. My heart quickens in my chest. I think he knows who I am, but I’m wearing the mask. There’s no way. The name probably didn’t help though. His eyes move down my body to the short black low-cut dress and the slit up my thigh. It leaves very little to the imagination. Also, my grandmother chose it.You’re going to a sex party, not a funeral; dress appropriately for the occasion. Have I taught you nothing, girl?

“What are you doing hiding in my office?”

“Needed a break.” Then my cheeks turn red when I realize how that sounds. “Not from the sex!” I hold up my blue wristband. “I haven’t been, you know, getting involved. It’s my first time, and all that downstairs, it’s just a lot.”

His lips press in amusement again. He keeps looking at me, studying, judging, weighing, and I feel like he’s trying to squeeze some truth from my appearance. I keep my back rigid and my hands clasped in front of me, adopting the posture my grandmother drilled into me as a young girl. Strong, poised, and proper. I wonder if Adriano will whack my knuckles with a belt if I screw it up just like Grandmother used to.

“It’s definitely a lot,” he agrees and stands up. I was right, the man is massive. He comes around the desk and walks over to the bar cart. “Want a drink?”

“Yes, please,” I say automatically, even though I’m seriously rethinking this whole situation. If he doesn’t know who I am yet,he’s going to figure it out eventually. And what will I do then? How can I even explain it?

Sorry, my grandmother sent me here to spy on you before we get married. I swear I’m not a depraved orgy addict looking for one last fucking thrill before walking down the aisle!

Probably not something I should say out loud.

He brings over a glass of something brown and smoky. I don’t normally do liquor, but he touches my glass with his and drinks. I stare at those puckered, gorgeous lips and take a small sip. It’s warm and rich. Smooth and complex. Not at all what I expected.

“I actually like this,” I blurt out without thinking.

He laughs lightly. “I take it you’re not usually a bourbon drinker?”

“I stick to wine,” I admit, blushing harder.

He steers me over to the couch, and we sit together. “Some people think it’s an acquired taste, but I think they’ve just never had the right blend.” He looks at me carefully. I sit rigid and straight with my legs crossed, aware that my dress is basically showing off every inch of my body. I really wish I had on something different right about now. “I hope you don’t find this rude, Lucy, but how did you end up here?”

“A friend invited me,” I tell him, which is my cover story. “She ditched me, though.”

“An unfortunate inevitability at an orgy.”

“What about you? I mean, what are you doing up here and not out there?”

“Probably for the same reason you’re here.” He glances away from me toward the door. “I’m not very interested in anything out there.”

That makes me pause. There’s a strange melancholy to the way he says it, almost like he finds the whole party distasteful. But from what I understand, Adriano’s been throwing this orgy every month for a couple of years. It’s one of the most popular and least talked about activities in the whole city. I’m willing to bet mayoral candidates, local news anchors, and prominent business owners are out there humping away and getting humped right now.

So why does this guy seem like he wishes it weren’t happening at all?

“I shouldn’t have dropped in on you like this.” I take another sip of the good bourbon and put the cut crystal glass down on his fancy coffee table. I realize it’s a very expensive piece by an important interior designer. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“I don’t mind.” He looks toward his desk. “I’ve been working too much lately. Maybe I could use a distraction.”

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