Page 77 of Bellini Born

One of them let out a loud scoff. “Please. There’s no way you get caught in a position like that and don’t seal the deal.”

“That’s speculative. Until you have substantial evidence, I’m withholding payment.”

A tsk sounded. “Careful, honey, using that legal jargon might have people wondering if the rumors about you fooling around with that hotshot lawyer on the side might be true. What was his name again? Aaron Bishop?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” came a haughty reply.

“Sure you don’t.”

“Don’t act all holier than thou, Vanessa. Everyone knows you’re fucking the gardener. You practically begged Bruce to install a greenhouse so your boy toy could stay on the property all year round.”

The urge to cover Serafina’s ears was strong. These women were ruthless and not even attempting to censor their language inside a preschool.

“Was the bet how much dirt we could dig up on each other, or whether Bellini was going to bang the new nanny?”

Well, that cleared up any confusion as to who they were talking about before. But it still didn’t make any sense. When would they ever have seen me “cleaned up?” My standard pickup attire was beyond casual.

“You’re right.” The one presumably having an affair with a lawyer sighed.

One of them leaned closer to the phone. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for video footage with sound. I’m dying to know if he’s one of the few men who actually enjoys a face full of pussy.”

Okay, I’d had enough.

Stomping across the space separating us, I cleared my throat loudly, and six pairs of eyes lifted expectantly.

Cocking my hip, I couldn’t keep the sass from my tone. “Care to share with the class, ladies?”

A wicked grin curved on the overfilled lips of the one with her talons curled around the cell. Condescendingly, she cooed, “Oh, sweetie, you are in way over your head.”

Then she turned the phone around, and when I caught sight of the image on the screen, the paper cup fell from my hand to the floor, splashing coffee all over the bitch who was getting off on my public humiliation.

Her screams about how I’d ruined her seven-hundred-dollar shoes fell on deaf ears because my privacy had been violated in the worst possible way, and my reputation was ruined forever.

Chapter 18

Matteo

Theimagesonmycomputer screen haunted me, yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

I’d been in the middle of a board meeting when my phone began blowing up. Initially, I ignored the incessant buzzing, my professional mask firmly in place. But as each member seated around the conference table pulled out their cells, my gut told me something was very, very wrong.

Excusing myself, I glanced down at the notifications to find no less than one hundred alerts that my name had been mentioned online. That sheer volume was enough to set off alarm bells. And when I clicked on the first one and saw the pictures some trashy tabloid had posted of me and Summer at Euphoria on New Year’s Eve, I threw my phone at the wall so hard the glass screen shattered.

Now, I was holed up in my office, watching as the intimate moment when I got on my knees to worship my goddess, my queen, went viral.

It was only a small comfort that, despite the numerous angles, my head blocked the view of the treasure between her thighs. But there was no hiding the sheer rapture on her face, her orgasm on display for the world to see.

Then there were the headlines.

Bellini Back in the Saddle Less than a Year After Wife’s Death.

Bellini’s Nanny Putting in Overtime.

Bellini Sex Scandal Hits Stock Prices Hard

Fuck. It had already leaked over into the business outlets.

I knew better than this. My entire adult life, I’d been in the spotlight, aware that anything I did in public could be recorded. And to this point, I’d been careful. The press had never been given a reason to portray me in an unfavorable light.