Page 21 of Ruin Me With Lies
Neither says a word.
I don’t either.But keep my focus on the ceiling, finishing my reps.When I’m done, I carefully lower the fifty-five-pound dumbbells onto my thighs, then sit up.
Stefano grips both ends of the towel around his neck, watching me with dark, unreadable eyes.
“Hey.”I glance between them.“Come here often?”
At that, Stefano frowns.His expression shifting from darkly annoyed to quiet intrigue.“You’re Raya...”
Wait, does he not know what I look like?
For all Lorenzo’s effort to keep me hidden, I figured Stefano would recognize me on sight.But it seems he’s only placing me now because of myvoice.
“That depends,” I say.“I hear this Raya girl is on your hit list.Is she still?”
Gio makes an “uh-oh” face then pries the dumbbells from my hands.“You shouldn’t bench without a spotter.”
“With a barbell, no.With dumbbells, I’m fine.As long as I don’t go too heavy.”
He examines the dumbbells.“One-ten pounds isn’t‘too heavy’for you?”
I lift my arms and kiss each bicep in turn.“I can benchyou,Pretty Boy.”
Gio throws his head back, laughing, until he catches Stefano’s scowl.
“I’ll just, uh, put these away,” he mutters and promptly heads for the weight rack.
Stefano stares me down, expression blank now.“Did you receive the villa booklet with the rules?”
“I did.”
“Hm.”He nods once.“Then can you explain why you’re here right now?”
I feign a frown.“What do you mean?”
He lifts a brow.“The gym schedule.Are you deliberately disregarding it?”
“I—Oh my God, what time is it?”I glance around as if searching for a clock, then lift my wrist and check my fitness watch.
6:21 PM.
Of courseI know the rules.No oneis allowed in the gym between 6:00 PM and 9:00 PM.Those arehishours.But being left to my own devices today gave me the perfect opportunity to ‘accidentally’ overstay in the gym.
With the hope of exactly this.A run-in with him.
To see him up close.
To take in every inch of his devastating beauty.To get a whiff of him.Of his devilish, roguish aura.
Unlike his twin, his presence isn’t overtly threatening.It’s mesmeric.Intrinsically alluring.
Deep, dark brown eyes.Sharp, masculine features.Thick, midnight-black hair, finger-swept into a messy quiff.He’s an impeccably fine specimen, and he knows it.
It’s in the way he carries himself, the way his shoulders set, the way his chin elevates with imperious confidence.
Even in workout gear, he moves like he owns the world.
Stefano Castello.King of Vegas.
