Page 75 of Virtuous Lies

My hand moves in time with my tongue, and he stands to full height, head thrown back on a long groan.

Thick ribbons of cum fill my mouth, and I let it fall down my throat, drinking him in.

I lick his cock clean, and he watches on with eyes veiled with lust.

My tongue drags over my lips. “I don’t really feel punished.”

nineteen

Imake my way through the lobby of our building, booted feet rushing across the marble tile. I told Andre to pick me up twenty minutes ago, and I wrestled my hair into a ponytail no less than eight times before I was happy enough to leave it.

Mama and Caterina are coming for lunch, and I wanted to fit in a nail appointment before they arrived at my place.

I make it to the glass doors of the foyer before skidding to a halt. I spin quickly, approaching the front desk as fast as I passed it. Tapping impatiently on the counter, Lydia, the hotel clerk, talks quietly into the phone. Her head is cast downward, thumb and forefinger pinched against the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

I check my watch.

“Miss Gabbi, I understand your frustration.”

I look at the glass doors. Andre waits patiently, hands in the pockets of his jeans, eyes moving up and down the street in lazy curiosity.

“Please don’t do that,” Lydia speaks again, pulling my attention. “I assure you that Mr. Ferrari has assured me he’ll have someone look at it today.”

I lift my hands slowly from the counter.

“I’ll be sure to tell him when he arrives home.” She pauses. “Yes, Miss Gabbi.”

She hangs the phone up, sighing to herself. Plastering a smile on her face, it drops the moment she turns. “Good mor—” She clears her throat, trying again. “Good morning, Mrs. Ferrari. How can I help you?”

Her eyes flicker nervously to the phone, then back to me. Her mind works overtime, no doubt recalling the conversation she just had in her head and trying to determine how much I heard.

“Good morning, Lydia.” I smile sweetly. “My mother and sister will be coming for lunch today. I’m heading out, but on their arrival, can you escort them to the penthouse, please?”

She dips her chin. “Of course.”

I take a step away. Pausing, I look over my shoulder. “Gabriella causing problems?”

Lydia pauses long enough to blink slowly three times. “I... uh...” She glances down at the phone, to the elevators, and then back to me.

I step back to the counter. “She’s been causing a raucous for Vincent and me as well,” I whisper with an exaggerated roll of my eyes, hoping like hell she believes the honeyed layer of my lie. “Anything I can help with today?”

“I wasn’t aware... I didn’t realize...” she stumbles.

I force a huff of laughter. “Lydia, I may be young, but I’m not stupid. I was aware of Gabriella the moment Vincent and I were married.”

Bile rolls in my gut. Vincent keeps this woman—whoever she may be—in the same apartment he keeps me.

“Of course, Mrs. Ferrari. Miss Gabriella’s hot water is not working. I spoke to Mr. Ferrari about it this morning as he left. He didn’t want me to arrange for someone to fix it. He wanted someone he knew and trusted.”

He wanted someone who wouldn’t ask questions. He wanted someone who would keep his dirty little secret.

“I’ll go up and grab Gabriella. She can use our apartment.” I turn back to the elevator. “I don’t have the key to her floor on me,” I ponder aloud. “Will you give me one? I’ll return it on my way out.”

“Of course,” Lydia agrees easily, relieved the issue of the problematic guest will no longer be hers to manage.

She hands me the key card.

“Vincent spoke about moving her? Or is she still on—”

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