Page 23 of Corrupting Lily

Fuck.

Chapter 15

Lily

I stare at the reflection in the mirror. My reflection. Is this really me? I grip the hem of the sleek black dress and turn to the side, admiring how perfectly it fits my figure. Regular meals have helped me regain some weight I lost from skimping on groceries and, on some days, skipping meals altogether. My face even looks better, thanks to the extra hours of sleep I've been getting.

“You look stunning. If you don’t find yourself a man tonight, then I must retire! And believe me, where you are going, there are so many fine men that it is like being cradled in the bosom of Adonis.” Alison practically swoons, her hands gripping her chest as she sways, lost in thoughts of these men who sound too good to be true.

There was only one who lived up to that description. One tall, chiseled man who was taking up prime real estate in my mind. Her words were more accurate than she could imagine. Cradled in Dominico’s arms was probably as close as anyone could get to being cradled by a god. Or maybe the devil himself. Either way, it was aunique experience. One that had to stop.

The longer I was around him, the more attached I became. The way my body reacted to his was also ridiculous. I couldn’t help it; believe me, I have tried. But whenever I was near him, it sparked like a live wire, igniting my being with need and desire. The way he cared for me was downright addictive, making me want to never leave his side.

But after what happened just an hour ago, I realized there were no real feelings attached to my being kept here. It was to use me when the time was right. I just needed to discover for what purpose and when. Could he know what I was concealing? Perhaps there was a way I could escape this mess—disappear, just as I had been planning to.

The thought makes me anxious, but coupled with the intimate moment I witnessed between him and the bitch who had walked into his office as if she owned it, I knew there was no place for me here. I would have to find my own way out of this mess. The fact thathehad put a bounty on my head assured me that what I had hidden had not been found and only made me more determined to get far, far away from here as soon as possible. I could decide what to do once I had enough distance between us. And while the guilt ate away at me, I had no way of stopping anything if I were dead.

“Are you okay?” Alison’s question pulls me from my melancholy thoughts, and I give her a small smile and a nod. When I entered here a little under an hour ago, I expected the hostility I was accustomed to in Dominico’s mansion, but instead, I was welcomed by the sweet, bubbly stylist Alison. Apparently, she was one of five permanent stylists for the Sante family. Exclusively.

“It’s almost time to go. Let's touch up your lipstick, and then you'll be ready.” Alison approaches me with the pink lipstick I chose, though red would have suited this dress better. But the red just reminded me of that bitch’s lips as she smiled sweetly at Dominico while gentlygrasping his arm.

“Who was the woman who came to fetch me?” I ask before I can stop myself, my curiosity overwhelming me, or perhaps my jealousy. Yes, it was red-hot, making my hands ball into fists.

“You mean Lucille?” Alison asks, her face contorting in disgust. She didn't like her—a sentiment we both shared.

“The word around thefamigliais that she will soon become Dominico’s wife. Her father heads one of the Three Families, the Esposito family. They possess significant political influence, leading many to speculate that this union would be advantageous.”

Esposito? I am transported back to the office at Mirra, the old man holding his limp cock seared in my memory. Lorenzo. So, she was part of the family that had stolen money from Dominico.

“Yes, but...” Alison whispers, glancing towards the door to ensure we are alone.

“Until recently, it was managed by the brothers Lorenzo and Luca, who were very close friends of the previous Don, Dominico’s father. Luca is Lucille's father. Even when Dominico's father was alive, there were discussions about the match. But now that Lorenzo has gone missing, along with the reasons behind it, Dominico may no longer want those connections. There is a rumor that he was stealing from thefamiglia. No one steals from Dominico and lives to tell the tale. He is known asAnge de la Mort, the Angel of Death.” She crosses herself, looking up to the heavens and kissing the cross around her neck.

“Are you ready?” I jump, and so does Alison, all the color draining from her face as she looks at Matteo.

He narrows his eyes suspiciously, but when she smiles and twirls me around, his gaze widens before he looks away.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath about how someone is going to die tonight.

Alison laughs and gently swats my rear, nudging me toward the door while handing me a small black clutch.

“Remember to powder your face and touch up your lipstick. I've also added some protection in case you get lucky,” she says, winking at me as a blush creeps up my neck and ignites my cheeks. I eye her pointedly, but she just laughs and then makes a hasty exit from the room, brushing past Matteo, who gives her a death stare.

“Dominico is waiting. We should go.” Matteo gestures toward the door, and we exit, his footsteps echoing behind me. As we reach the stairs, his voice halts me.

“Are you okay with the stairs? You need to be honest, because I don't want to die tonight.” I smile at his gruff words and nod, gripping the railing as we head downstairs. He extends his arm in case I need to take it.

“Where are we going?" I ask as we near the bottom.

"Pulse, one of the clubs owned by Dominico, is hosting its opening night. Everyone who is anyone will be there.”

I frown, and anxiety blooms in my stomach. Does that include my ex? Would Dominico do that?

“He is waiting for you. I will be there shortly.” Matteo gestures toward the mansion's front door. As I approach, I hear Dominico's deep voice as he speaks to someone on the phone in Italian. I expect to see Lucille when I exit the mansion, but no one is here except me, Dominico, and his guards. Perhaps she is still on her way.

As he turns, silver-grey eyes meet mine, stealing my breath.

Damn, he looks good. His gaze dips, dragging down my form like a hot poker as I take him in. He resembles the Angel of Death. His black hair is slicked back, and his face is freshly shaved, highlighting his sharp jawline. He wears a midnight black suit, a black shirt, and a black tie, the only splash of color being the gold cufflinks he sports. This suit ismagical as it conveys, without definitively outlining his muscles, what lies beneath. Black steel. Strong, virile, alpha male.

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