Chapter Fourteen

After getting dressed, I call Gabriele and check in. He's with Gracie at my parents' home, waiting for word to return here. "Give me the rundown."

"I haven't heard from Rocco yet. I called him four times since we left, but I assume he has his hands full moving the fuckers to the proper area, and once there, the signal cut out."

"Fuck. The signal fades in and out once you reach a specific range from the site, so we shouldn't expect to get word. Still, I don't believe that's the issue. Did he lose his nerve?"

"Do you think he'd turn on us for that cheap pussy?"

"Adriano is waiting for me. Bring Gracie so she can help Stella dress for dinner."

"I am. God, your sister has packed enough clothes that your wife isn't going to need anything for months."

"I doubt it. I'm sure she'll find a reason to take Stella shopping within a week." Gabe chuckles.

"We're loading the vehicle in five minutes. Shit."

"What is it?"

"Your parents just pulled up."

"Well, I guess dinner will have to be delayed. Inform them to join us in an hour, but bring Gracie because my wife needs clothes now."

"Okay, Dame." Fuck. They weren't supposed to be back for two more days. I'm going to get an earful from my father because of my mother. They have no idea that I'm not in love with my bride. This was just transactional. A debt that needed to be paid.

I turn around and go back into my bedroom, deciding to change into proper dinner wear, but the sound of Stella retching her brains out takes me by surprise. "What the fuck, Angel?"

She ignores me, which pisses me off because I'm trying to take care of her—something not in my wheelhouse. "What's wrong?"

Whipping her head in my direction, she wipes her mouth and glares at me with such fucking disgust you'd think I didn't just rock her world and have her screaming the house down. "You make me sick. Get away from me."

Holy hell. What fucking split motherfucking personality shit is going on here? A sense of indignation strikes me. I'm giving her more than she could ever dream of, including blissful orgasms, and this is how she repays me. "Damn. You didn't seem too upset when you were crying out my name."

"That's before I found out you were fucking my stepsister."

My head whips back like she slapped me. Wrapping a hand around her biceps, I lift her off the ground. "I should wash your filthy mouth out for saying something like that, but since you're punishing yourself, I suppose it's fair. I never fucked her."

"You said—" I press my fingers to her mouth, stopping whatever is about to be uttered and correct whatever misconception she has running in her head.

"I said no such thing. She put her hand on my chest attempting to flirt with me, and I was tempted to break it. Instead, I removed it with a warning."

"Oh." Her gorgeous pale cheeks turn bright pink with embarrassment.

"It's cute that you're jealous." My wife doesn't need to be jealous of anyone. I have romantic feelings for no one and only lustful desire for her.

Her eyes turn to slits as she glares at me. "It's not jealousy. It's disgusting. Of all the people in the world…" For her, that must have been a truly sickening thing. If I didn't care for the woman, Stella must hate her. She moves to the sink and washes her mouth.

I chuckle, which only pisses Stella off more. She stands up straight, and I swear she's ready to lunge at me. I raise my palms and shake my head. "Trust me. I feel the same way. Now, you need to wash up because my sister will be here shortly with clothes, and my parents will soon follow."

"Your parents?" Her pretty mouth humorously falls open. She looks down at her naked form, and so do I. A groan rips from my throat.

"Yes." Damn, I've never been repeatedly hard. Fixing my growing erection, I kiss her forehead. "My sister is at the gate with Gabriele." I pull my robe from the back of the door and bring it to her. "I don't want anyone seeing you unclothed."

She points to the clothes on the floor. "My robe is over there."

"All of that will be burned."

"You mean my wedding gown?" she teases, pressing her hand to her chest as if it's a treasured relic. "How will I ever pass it down?" The eye roll is an unwelcome added touch.

"Brat. Remember—just because I enjoy that pussy doesn't mean I'll put up with that mouth."

"Great—from one abuser to another," she mutters.

I inch closer, wanting to take her over my knee to turn that sexy ass red. Fuck, my dick likes that idea. "What did you say?" I ask, wanting her to repeat it.

"Nothing, Mr. Valentino. I'll behave."

"Somehow I doubt that, Angel, but I don't mind bending that pretty ass over and spanking it before slamming my big cock in your tight cunt." She flushes a hot pink again. Tapping her cheek just as I hear footsteps in the distance, I say, "Don't get too worked up, baby. We have company."

"Dame, we're here. We hope you two are decent," Grace shouts from the stairway.

I exit the bathroom and then leave my bedroom to greet my sister and take the luggage from Gabe. "Go inside and help Stella pick something to wear."

My eyes go wide when I see my mother behind my sister. "Sorry. You know damn well I couldn't tell your father no," Gabe says. Of course, he wouldn't dare, and I couldn't either. I may be the Don, but my father is still a powerful man and a man we all respect.

"Of course," I mutter. "Where is my father?"

"Waiting for you in your study."

I set down the suitcases and wrap my mother in a hug. "Welcome back, Mother."

"Yes, I'm sure you're glad I'm back, Son." She slaps me in the chest. "Married?"

"It's not what you think."

"No? You don't have a wife?"

"It's not like we got married for love. That would never happen." She frowns and then looks around my shoulder at my door.

"So, are these for me?" Stella's voice comes from behind me. My eyes slam shut because even if I know the words are true, it still makes me an asshole. Then I remember why everyone is up here. Stella's only dressed in my robe—a robe that is practically falling off her perfect body that belongs only to me.

A seething anger full of possessiveness engulfs me. I spin around to see her in the white robe again, looking even more enticing, and I want to destroy that thing. "What the fuck are you doing out of the room in that thing?" If I didn't have my family standing around, I'd rip it right off of her body just to prove a damn point.

"What the fuck do you care?" she snaps, snatching the luggage from the ground and turning on her bare feet.

"We'll be in here," Grace says, sneering at me before following Stella and slamming the bedroom door.

"Oh, wow, Damiano. You have your hands full." My mother shakes her head at me, smiling so damn wide. I tilt my body back to my bedroom door, wanting to go in there and straighten her ass out. My mother grabs my bicep. "How about you go talk to your father while I check on your bride?"

Gabe steps in front of me and says, "Your mother has a point, Dame." I know he does because I'm not in the right frame of mind to do anything but teach my wife what happens if she ever wears another man's clothes again. Why the fuck does that bother me?

"Fine." I need a fucking drink or ten right now.

"Gabe, keep him from drinking too much." Did I say that aloud?

He nods to her. "Yes, ma'am."

I'm having a motherfucking breakdown. What is this woman doing to me? There is no way any woman has had this effect on me. Ever. I don't like it. She's nothing more than a beautiful face and a great distraction. I might not need sex, but it doesn't mean I don't want it. She's a convenient way to have it regularly. That's all. I won't let that look on her face get to me.

We enter my office and Gabe goes to my bar, pouring me a drink and handing it to me before standing guard over it. Quickly, I send it down my throat, letting it burn, but it's not enough. He gives me a warning look and fills the next one with a little less. He's fucking lucky my guns are tucked away, but if I get around my desk, my best friend might have a problem if he doesn't refill this motherfucker. I toss it back and set it on the table before taking a seat on my leather sofa with my feet kicked out.

My father has already taken the spot behind my desk like it's his. He must have been reading my damn mind about the guns, but I have others. "Son, explain what the hell has transpired and why the man who told me a month ago he would never marry has a wife."

"I had a point to prove."

"A point?"

"Yes, a bastard owed me money, then he had something I wanted. A fair deal. In fact, I'll be dealing with him soon. He's waiting for me in the special location, but since I promised a dinner, it will have to wait."

"You couldn't have just fucked the girl and sent her on her way?" My nostrils flare, and for the first time in a long time, I want to fight my father. Why was I pissed about my father's words?

Instead, I control myself because I'm not a ballsy teenager with temper issues. I'm the damn Don, and I do what the fuck I please. "Nope, I wanted to humiliate him and add insult to injury. Now I have a pretty, temporary toy until I grow tired of her. Will you be joining us for dinner?"

"I suppose your mother will definitely want to stay. I hope you know what you're doing."

"Don't I always?" I brush off his concerns because I have more important things to handle, like getting my hands on Stella's stepfamily and destroying them.

"You're in uncharted waters." The housekeeper knocks on the door to inform me that dinner is ready.