Page 11 of His Playground (Owning Vegas #2)

Chapter Ten

T he light comes through the windows. I pull the covers up over my head and roll onto my side to find I’m alone in the bed. The spot next to me… empty, cold, and unslept on. It’s been like this all week. He never sleeps here. In this room with me.

Again, I’m torn between relief and disappointment. I don’t actually want him here, but I think a small part of me wants him to want to be here. He hasn’t touched me since that day in my bedroom at my father’s house. He made me come so effortlessly. And I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

My body is a traitor. I can’t control it. My head, though? It’s smart. It’s telling me to stay far away from Carlo. Which is something I’ve been trying to do. Although it’s no easy feat when I’m stuck in this penthouse or followed by his men when I do try to go out.

We eat meals together, mainly breakfast and dinner. After breakfast, he takes Jazzy down to his office on the ground floor of the casino, and I don’t see either of them again until dinner.

Whenever I offer to help or do anything for Jazzy, Carlo glares at me and tells me no .

So I stopped trying. I don’t want to be her mother, but if the kid asks for a drink, I’m not going to ignore her either.

With the way Carlo reacts, though, you’d think I was child services, about to take her away from him if I so much as fill a glass of water.

I can see how much he loves her. He wants to be a father to her, the kind neither of us was lucky enough to have. I get that. But I honestly think he needs to accept help too. He lets his friends hang out with her, even leaves her with Lailani when he has to go out at night.

It’s a weird dynamic, and certainly not what I thought I was getting into when I stood in that church. Also, it’s not horrible. Which I’m grateful for. It’s just… lonely.

I get out of bed and walk into the bathroom. I need to shower and get ready for school. I’m going back today. I took the week off so that it at least appeared like I was enjoying my newlywed status. In our world, appearances are everything.

After showering, I carefully apply a face full of makeup. I don’t know why but I want to look perfect. I guess the makeup is almost like a mask, a facade I put up so nobody sees the truth. That I’m not happy. That although I escaped one gilded cage, I’ve just landed myself in another.

The apartment is quiet when I walk out. Usually, Carlo and Jazzy are cooking up a storm in the kitchen, but it’s empty. There’s a note on the counter.

Antonia,

Took Jazzy out for breakfast. There’s food in the fridge.

Carlo

Well, okay then. Guess it’s just me. Whenever I feel sad or lonely or like I want Carlo to want me around more than he does, I force myself to remember the scene I walked in on three years ago.

The memory is so vivid, but that’s what happens with life-changing events, right? Because the day my heart shattered at Carlo’s feet, and he proceeded to stomp on it, that’s what it did. Changed my life. I’ve never allowed myself to get close to anyone since.

Sure, I’ve been with other people. I still have needs. I just haven’t been in a relationship. I thought Carlo loved me. I believed he loved me more than anything else on earth. I believed all his lies.

I was so excited the day I got that message from him, asking me to meet him later that night.

I remember going to the lingerie store and picking out a new set just for him.

Red. He always loved me in red. I went up to his penthouse.

This penthouse. He wasn’t in his bedroom, though.

I found him in one of the guest rooms. I still haven’t gone back into that room. I can’t bring myself to open the door.

He wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t waiting for me.

He was buck naked, with a leggy blonde. They looked like they had just gone a round in the sack.

The sheets tousled and clothes strewn about the room.

The worst thing, though? When Carlo saw me, he smiled and said, “You’re early.

Give me five minutes and I’m all yours.”

Needless to say I didn’t give him five. I ran out before the first tear fell. I left my shattered heart behind on the floor and kept running. He didn’t chase me. I didn’t get any phone calls or texts from him wanting to apologize. There was just… nothing. Silence.

Well, if that’s not a memory to make you lose your appetite, I don’t know what is. So I don’t bother eating. Instead, I take the opportunity (while no one is here to watch me) to get out of this casino without his goons following me.

I have no doubt that I’ll hear about it later. Get a lecture on how stupid I am for ditching the bodyguards. Blah, blah, blah. But sometimes the risk is worth it just to have a few minutes alone. A few minutes of not being a mafia princess.

And I’m not stupid. I’m fully aware of the risk. I know my father has enemies. I know my husband does too, and that they won’t think twice about using me as a pawn to get to either.

I manage to escape the casino through the back staff entrance. The benefit of Carlo showing me how to get in and out of this place without being seen all those years ago is finally paying off now.

After calling an Uber, I text the girls to meet me on campus for coffee before class.

Me:

Coffee?

Luna:

In an IV preferably.

Georgia:

Is that even a question?

I smile as I type my response.

Me:

Be there in twenty.

Luna:

See you there.

Georgia:

I’ll be there in ten.

The car stops just outside the coffee shop, and I groan when I spot the two beefcakes Carlo assigned to me waiting at the entrance.

“Miss me?” I smile as I pass them.

Neither says a word. They just nod politely, one holding the door open. Never thought I’d miss Brian, but I do. At least he’d talk to me.

“Hey.” I sit down in the chair next to Luna. Georgia is positioned on the other side of the table.

“Mrs. Bianchi, how’s married life treating you?” Georgia raises a brow at me.

“Uneventful and boring,” I groan. “What have I missed?”

“She’s dating some jock, and I think I’m giving up men and going to try girls,” Luna says.

“You try girls now? After I’m off the market? Just my luck,” I joke. “So a jock, huh? Who is he and what’s he play?”

“Don’t judge. You just married a mobster. It’s Jasper Reid.” Georgia scrunches up her nose, like she’s got a bad taste in her mouth.

“The quarterback?” I laugh. “Yeah, okay, he’s relationship material for sure.”

“I’m just here for a good time, not a long time,” Georgia says. “And trust me, it’s a real good time.” Her brows move up and down on her forehead.

“We’re making a stop at the clinic today. You need to be tested for every STD under the sun. Do you have any idea where his good-time equipment has even been?”

“Do you have any idea where Carlo’s been?” Georgia fires back.

I flinch. She has a point. But also, I haven’t let Carlo’s equipment near me.

Not that he’s tried to do anything with it.

Other than his fingers that one time, he hasn’t so much as touched me.

I’m starting to wonder if I repulse him, or if he’s just getting his needs met elsewhere.

I should find out. If I know the truth, it’s better. Because I’ll know where I stand.

I want that, though. For him to not want me. Maybe it’s time I bring up the separate house idea. I pull out my phone and text him.

Me:

How do you feel about separate apartments? I’m going to look for one to live in.

I see the three dots that indicate he’s typing a response.

Carlo Bianchi:

Absolutely fucking not.

Well, guess I’ll have to work on that. I tap on his contact and change his name. Smiling at my own cleverness. I don’t know why I didn’t do this years ago. I smile even wider when another text from him appears on my phone.

ASSHOLE:

Don’t try to ditch your security again either. We’ll discuss this tonight.

We’ll discuss this tonight? Seriously? Because I can’t seem to help myself. I text him back.

Me:

I look forward to discussing separate houses with you tonight.