Page 48
Story: Redemption
“Do not threaten her!” I grit through my teeth.
His grin grows on his face. “Who did you say her father was again?”
“I don’t know. Some man I fucked when you dragged me back to Genoa.”
“From my recollection, you went willingly.”
“It doesn’t matter. Stay the hell away from my daughter. She has nothing to do with this family.”
“She’s a Renzetti.”
I shake my head and snap. “No, she is a Di Masio. I will never let her have that name.”
Dante finishes his scotch and stands. “You can deny your bloodline all you want, Mirabella. But we all know the truth.” He glances back toward the restaurant door. “More than you know.”
He starts to walk away, not letting me have another word. He turns and says, “I’ll be in touch with what I need you to do.”
I watch as he walks away, the men he brought with him following behind.
I take a deep breath, not realizing I was holding it in as a million thoughts fly through my brain. Why now? Why are they dragging me into everything now? And the way he looked at my daughter. There was something in his eyes. Like he knew I was lying. Like he knew some random man isn’t Aria’s father. Even if he figures out who her real father is, it shouldn’t matter. In his eyes, Kilian is dead.
I head back into the restaurant and try to shake off the encounter. Magda is staring at me, a look of concern on her face. But I simply brush it off. “Thanks for watching my tables. I’ll get back to them now. Aria will just be in your office working on homework.”
Magda purses her lips at me but keeps her mouth shut as I get back to work.
17
KILIAN
Imake my way through the private entrance of one of the newer clubs in London. The beat of the bass is reverberating through the walls as I make my way to a darkened VIP table on the third level of the club. These days I am always using private entrances and darkened hallways to go anywhere in public where I may be recognized. But as the years have passed since my “death” the memory of Kilian Bancroft has faded. Which makes my life somewhat easier. And I know as more years pass, the memory of the man I used to be will be completely forgotten. Maybe then I will have the freedom I’ve wanted.
“What can I get you to drink?”
I look up to see a scantily clad waitress standing inside the small room. “Redbreast fifteen year.”
She smiles. “I’ll be right back.”
I watch her ass as she goes. A silver fringed skirt that does nothing to cover the bottom of her round cheeks. Her back is bare, only a thin string holding the small top on. I sigh as I watch her go. I have no interest in her. If it were a month ago, things would be different. I know how the owners of these clubs expect their waitresses to treat guests like me. If I ask for her to suck my dick she is encouraged to do so. Hell, I’ve had my fair share of the waitresses in these clubs. Most are willing to ride my dick, even offer to and I wouldn’t be surprised if this girl is no different. That’s the elusiveness of these places. Private memberships for the richest of the rich. And there are no rules. The waitresses are paid well enough and most enjoy sex so that it isn’t a job for them.
She walks back in with my drink and sets it on the table in front of me. Her hand lands on my knee. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks, her hand slowly sliding closer to my dick.
I take her hand off my leg. “No,” I say with a stern voice.
An irritated look crosses her face. “Mr. Arrington said—”
“I don’t give a shit what he said. Leave.” My voice is harsh and I could give a shit how I sound. I don’t want this woman. Or any woman other than the one that spent three nights in my arms in Malta.
I slam back my entire drink, annoyance building. I knew Roland would tell his staff to offer their services but it’s the last thing I want.
A new waitress comes into the booth and drops off another drink for me. This one doesn’t say a word and I don’t look at her. I just watch the crowd of young people below.
“Is it necessary to snap at my staff?”
I run my finger along the rim of my glass as it sits perched on my knee. “When they touch me without my permission it is.”
“What crawled up your ass?” Roland laughs as he takes a seat across from me.
I turn to face him. “Long day.”
His grin grows on his face. “Who did you say her father was again?”
“I don’t know. Some man I fucked when you dragged me back to Genoa.”
“From my recollection, you went willingly.”
“It doesn’t matter. Stay the hell away from my daughter. She has nothing to do with this family.”
“She’s a Renzetti.”
I shake my head and snap. “No, she is a Di Masio. I will never let her have that name.”
Dante finishes his scotch and stands. “You can deny your bloodline all you want, Mirabella. But we all know the truth.” He glances back toward the restaurant door. “More than you know.”
He starts to walk away, not letting me have another word. He turns and says, “I’ll be in touch with what I need you to do.”
I watch as he walks away, the men he brought with him following behind.
I take a deep breath, not realizing I was holding it in as a million thoughts fly through my brain. Why now? Why are they dragging me into everything now? And the way he looked at my daughter. There was something in his eyes. Like he knew I was lying. Like he knew some random man isn’t Aria’s father. Even if he figures out who her real father is, it shouldn’t matter. In his eyes, Kilian is dead.
I head back into the restaurant and try to shake off the encounter. Magda is staring at me, a look of concern on her face. But I simply brush it off. “Thanks for watching my tables. I’ll get back to them now. Aria will just be in your office working on homework.”
Magda purses her lips at me but keeps her mouth shut as I get back to work.
17
KILIAN
Imake my way through the private entrance of one of the newer clubs in London. The beat of the bass is reverberating through the walls as I make my way to a darkened VIP table on the third level of the club. These days I am always using private entrances and darkened hallways to go anywhere in public where I may be recognized. But as the years have passed since my “death” the memory of Kilian Bancroft has faded. Which makes my life somewhat easier. And I know as more years pass, the memory of the man I used to be will be completely forgotten. Maybe then I will have the freedom I’ve wanted.
“What can I get you to drink?”
I look up to see a scantily clad waitress standing inside the small room. “Redbreast fifteen year.”
She smiles. “I’ll be right back.”
I watch her ass as she goes. A silver fringed skirt that does nothing to cover the bottom of her round cheeks. Her back is bare, only a thin string holding the small top on. I sigh as I watch her go. I have no interest in her. If it were a month ago, things would be different. I know how the owners of these clubs expect their waitresses to treat guests like me. If I ask for her to suck my dick she is encouraged to do so. Hell, I’ve had my fair share of the waitresses in these clubs. Most are willing to ride my dick, even offer to and I wouldn’t be surprised if this girl is no different. That’s the elusiveness of these places. Private memberships for the richest of the rich. And there are no rules. The waitresses are paid well enough and most enjoy sex so that it isn’t a job for them.
She walks back in with my drink and sets it on the table in front of me. Her hand lands on my knee. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks, her hand slowly sliding closer to my dick.
I take her hand off my leg. “No,” I say with a stern voice.
An irritated look crosses her face. “Mr. Arrington said—”
“I don’t give a shit what he said. Leave.” My voice is harsh and I could give a shit how I sound. I don’t want this woman. Or any woman other than the one that spent three nights in my arms in Malta.
I slam back my entire drink, annoyance building. I knew Roland would tell his staff to offer their services but it’s the last thing I want.
A new waitress comes into the booth and drops off another drink for me. This one doesn’t say a word and I don’t look at her. I just watch the crowd of young people below.
“Is it necessary to snap at my staff?”
I run my finger along the rim of my glass as it sits perched on my knee. “When they touch me without my permission it is.”
“What crawled up your ass?” Roland laughs as he takes a seat across from me.
I turn to face him. “Long day.”
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