Page 60 of The Maddest Obsession (Made 2)

Nico headed to the door.

“Goodbye, Ace!” I called. “So glad we could finally have a peaceful, uneventful night with the Abellis, aren’t you?”

The expression he gave me said he wasn’t impressed with my joke.

After saying my farewells to the last of the guests, I shut the door, leaned against it, and took in the mess of glasses and dishes left behind.

“Dio mio,” I muttered, and then cursed myself. That was going to be ten Hail Mary’s at my next confession.

I sighed, but before I could let it all out, my body tensed. I thought Christian had left earlier, escaping the party as soon as the drama he’d created commenced. Although, as I drifted toward the low timbre of his voice, I knew I’d been mistaken. My heart rate dipped and dived like it’d had one too many Tequila Sunrises.

His gaze was averted as he leaned against the glass railing on the terrace, talking on the phone. Each word was rough, quiet, and not understandable, as though he was speaking a foreign language.

When he looked up and noticed my presence, a flicker passed through his eyes, and he suddenly spoke clear and concise English.

A man of many secrets.

He ended the call, and we stared at each other in silence. Our expressions were apathetic, yet electricity played in the air, hindering the ease to breathe.

“I guess I should say, nice party,” he drawled.

“I guess. But it just doesn’t have the same effect, considering you ruined it and all.”

“Ah, so Ace loses his cool and I take the blame?”

I shook my head. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Maybe.”

“My question is, why? I thought you and Ace got coffee, shared secrets, and went shopping together?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Fair play.”

This was about payback? “For what? Wait, don’t tell me—he stole one of your women.”

The slightest muscle tightened in his jaw, and I faltered.

“Oh, my god, he did.”

He pushed off the railing and rolled his shoulders.

Who was this woman he wanted so badly? Elena Abelli?

A bad taste filled my mouth. Must be from that brownie I’d washed down with booze earlier.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I would’ve put my money on you,” I told him.

“Why?” His eyes trapped me where I stood.

I licked my lips. “Well, number one, you’re too pretty for your own good. And number two, you hide your dark side well—Ace doesn’t even try to.”

He nodded slowly, like that made sense.

I lifted a shoulder. “If you want a couple pointers, however, you could probably work on being less of an asshole sometimes. Though I’m beginning to think that’s only for my benefit.”

My messy life must annoy him immensely.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He slipped his hands in his pockets and took a step toward me. With eyes narrowed, his voice was rough and demanding. “Why did you shut the door on me earlier?”