“E has a private jet,” Aria says. “You should get one, Daddy. It’s as smooth a flight as you can get.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” someone chimes in.
The hairs on my neck stand on end becauseI know that voice. My mystery woman from a few minutes earlier glides into the room, her footsteps slow and unrushed as she comes to stand next to Aria. She locks eyes with me for a brief second before glancing at my fiancée. “You canalwayscrash and burn.”
“Venesa,” Aria greets, her tone flat. “How…unsurprising you’re still here mooching off my family.”
Venesa.
Satisfaction pours through me from learning her name.
“Well…someone had to stay behind and take over the job once you ran away,” Venesa replies.
Aria scoffs. “Revisionist history at its finest.”
“You really want to speak on revisionist history?” Venesa hits back.
Aria’s lips thin. “I don’t knowwhyI’m surprised when all you’ve ever done is?—”
“Girls, that’s enough,” Trent demands, narrowing his gaze on Venesa. “We have company.”
She looks at me and allows her stare to linger, dragging it from my eyes down to my feet and back again. I feel every single inch of her perusal.
“Oh, I apologize,” she says. “I hadn’t even noticed you were there.”
We both know that’s a lie. “Don’t worry about it.”
She moves toward me, reaching out her hand. I grasp it in mine, pinpricks of heat lancing beneath my skin as I bring it to my mouth and brush my lips across the back. It’s the same thing I’ve done with a thousand other women, but it sure as fuck feels different.
“What a gentleman,” she murmurs.
“It’s a pleasure,Venesa.” My thumb ghosts across the top of her knuckles.
“Is it?” She slips her fingers from mine.
I wrap an arm around Aria’s waist, simply to offset the inappropriate interaction I just had with this other woman.
“It appears you have me at a disadvantage, Mister…” Venesa says.
“Marino.” I play along.
“Marino,” she repeats. “Italian, then?”
“Very.”
“An important one?” Her lips curve up.
“Depends on who you ask.”
“Hmm.” She cocks her head, trailing her gaze slowly up and down my frame for a second time. “Can’t say I’ve heard of you.”
“Guess that makes two of us.”
“Venesa.” Trent’s voice is a thunderbolt, and it straightens her up immediately, her spine stiffening and grin dropping, an impenetrable mask falling over her face.
“I apologize for my niece’s behavior,” Trent says. “She’s been with us for years, but her mother wasn’t known for civility, and I’m sure you can imagine howdifficultthings like that are to train into a young woman once she’s been taught another way.”
That was kind of an asshole thing to say.
