Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Found something interesting. Dad’s study. Now.
She takes a step back. “Look, if this is about the broken glass, I swear I’ll pay for it—”
I lift my gaze to hers, freezing her with my icy stare, and she stops talking.
“You think this is about a broken glass? Try again, Aemelia.”
She opens her mouth to speak but hesitates, blinking rapidly. “What’s it about then, Luca?”
My name on her lips is like a breathy sigh, and in normal circumstances, it would have made me half-hard with interest. Aemelia Lambretti is everything I look for in a woman. Hair as dark as a raven’s wing, soulful melted chocolate eyes kissed with a dark liner that gives her a feline appearance, red lips that are pouty even under my scrutiny, and a tight little body that I’d punish and relish if the circumstances were different; if I didn’t remember the feel of her body in my arms; if her youth didn’t make me feel like a man on the other side of a wall, too mature, too weathered, too tarnished to match her perfection.
I take my time, watching her, looking for panic, but she seems curious, and when she folds her arms across her chest, squeezing her pretty tits together, a little put out at my sudden accosting, my dick twitches.
A knock at the door makes Aemelia jump.
Antonio enters first, followed by Alexis. My brothers loom tall and broad, filling the small space, and Aemelia glances at them, her breathing growing more ragged.
Antonio crosses his arms, and Alexis leans against the wall, his mouth smiling but his eyes burning with suspicion.
“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” she asks, her voice uneven.
“I think I’ll leave that part to you. What are you doing at my sister’s wedding, Aemelia Lambretti?”
Alexis and Antonio don’t react to her name, maintaining their cool, uninterested demeanor, but now they understand why I’ve dragged them away from the celebration.
“Waitressing,” she says. “Look, I know it’s a little weird. When they told me about the gig, I considered turning it down. I didn’t want to make your sister uncomfortable.” She smooths her hands over her dress, highlighting her current status as a server rather than a guest. “I just… I need the money, okay?”
“Aemelia Lambretti needs waitressing money?” Alexis asks, his hazel eyes drifting over her. I can read my brother like a book. He’s thinking about her ass and what it would look like pink with his handprints.
“You don’t have to keep saying my full name, you know. Aemelia is fine. And yeah, I need the money.”
“What happened to Daddy’s fortune?” I ask.
“I don’t know. You should ask him if you can find him. I haven’t seen him in over a decade.”
I lean against the desk and cross one leg over the other, feigning relaxation. “Convenient.”
“Not really,” she sneers. “He left us penniless, and it broke my mom. It’s not easy to get by on my measly salary. Now, my aunt is dying, and we had to come back from Maryland. I’d rather be anywhere but here.”
I share a look with my brothers. Without a word, I can tell that Alexis doesn’t believe her, and Antonio is reserving judgment.
Alexis steps forward, and she tips her head to look up at him but stands her ground. “You expect us to believe that you just happened to end up working here at our sister’s wedding?”
“I need the money. That’s all. My mom… she’s… and my brother… All he does is get into trouble. If I don’t finish my shift, I won’t get paid, and we—”
Her throat bobs, but she raises her face further, elongating her slender, elegant neck until her chin is high. She looks like a ballet dancer, poised before a graceful movement, eyes determined, posture straight.
For a long moment, no one speaks.
I glance at Antonio, then Alexis. They’re watching her the same way I am—measuring, assessing. Liars have tells. And Aemelia has none.
She’s telling the truth.
I exhale through my nose. “Give me your phone.”
She hesitates before pulling it from the pocket of her dress. I take it, flipping to her banking app. She doesn’t protest when I ask her to open it so I can check her recent transfers, and the address listed on her account. She has less than a hundred dollars to her name, and her banking address is in Maryland.
I hand it back, and she clutches it like a lifeline.
Standing, I turn to the dark window, running a hand down my face over the scar that’s still rough after all these years.
If she’s telling the truth—and I’m sure she is—then this isn’t a threat. Aemelia’s no villain or assassin. She walked into this wedding like prey into a hunter’s snare.
She’s not a danger. She’s an opportunity.
But…
I turn to Alexis. “Check her.”
Alexis raises a brow, then grins like I’ve just handed him a gift. “With pleasure.”