By Virtue I Fall (Sins of the Fathers #3)(46)

I laughed too because it would have been weird if I’d acted annoyed. To my ears, it sounded horribly fake but Maurice didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ll keep you busy,” he said with a slow smile, lifting the bottle with Viognier, one of my favorite wines.

“I’m counting on it.”





I knocked at Veronique’s door. When she opened it, she made a badly played surprised face, closing a bathrobe over her very naked body. It was a lovely body, one few men would say no to, but it left me annoyingly cold.

“Oh, I didn’t expect you so soon. I took a shower.”

“Should I come back later?” I asked, even if I knew the answer.

She grabbed my upper arm with a dismissive laugh. “Oh no. Don’t be ridiculous.”

I stepped into the corridor of her apartment. It was smaller than the one I shared with Anna but still not cheap. Her husband probably earned good money on that oil rig while his lonely wife sought the company of men like me.

“Come in,” she said, leading me toward the kitchen. “Maybe you can take a look at my table as well? It’s wobbly.”

I nodded and got down on my haunches to inspect the table. Veronique positioned herself right beside me, her bathrobe slowly becoming loose and revealing long legs and the hint of a shaved pussy.

I peered up at her face. It spoke a clear language. She wanted a night full of hot sex, and she knew I was a man who could provide it.

Problem was, my head wasn’t down here. I couldn’t stop thinking about Anna, about the conversation we’d shared, and about the way my pulse picked up whenever she flirted with me. Anna too wanted me for the fun I could provide. I’d never minded being the fling-kind-of-guy but with Anna, the idea simply didn’t sit well with me.

Veronique touched my shoulder. “Santino?”

I glanced at her pussy once more. I could spend the night banging a lonely, horny woman, or I could return upstairs. For what?

I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore. Anna. Definitely. That was the damn problem.

I shoved to my feet. “The table is fine. Let me check the window now.” I strode toward the window, which was jammed but I couldn’t see how I could fix it.

“Do you want a glass of wine?”

I shook my head. “I should go.”

Not waiting for a reply, I left the apartment and hurried up the stairs. Anna had become my cockblock.

I went to unlock the door but it wasn’t locked anymore. I shoved open the door and stormed in. Anna wasn’t in the bathroom. I only found her nightgown thrown over the bathtub rim. I whirled around and checked her bedroom, even if I knew I wouldn’t find her there either. What I found was her cell phone. She probably suspected the tracker we’d put in it. Did she even realize how dangerous it was for her to run around without a way to contact me?

“Damn it!” I roared as I rushed back down the stairs and knocked at Veronique’s door. She opened a moment later, looking confused. “I need your Vespa. My sister’s run off and I need to go looking for her.”

She took the key from a hook on the wall. “Do you want me to call the police?”

“No,” I clipped as I grabbed the key of the fucking Vespa and hurried down the stairs. Taking a car would take longer, so even if I hated the yellow-colored thing, it would do me a better service if I wanted to find Anna as quickly as possible.

I meandered through traffic, regretting not checking Anna’s text. Where would a French Casanova like Maurice take Anna? Probably some cozy nook where he could put his paws all over her.

Fuck, and what if something happened to her? I’d never forgive myself.

I headed for the Eiffel Tower first. Too many people had gathered on the grass below the steel construct, drinking wine and chatting despite the cold. I didn’t see Anna anywhere. I jumped back on the Vespa and raced away. One of the most romantic places at night was the area around Notre Dame, especially the Seine embankment.

When I dismounted the Vespa at my destination, I followed my gut. It didn’t take me long to find a place where many couples had gathered with a view of the church and the Seine to get it on.

I didn’t see Anna anywhere though. I searched the area for another hour until I gave up and headed toward Montmartre. But I didn’t find her there either. Panic was starting to set in.

If I didn’t find Anna until the morning, I had to consider calling Dante so he could organize help. I couldn’t risk waiting too long before I rang the alarm. If she’d been kidnapped, every hour mattered. And calling the police was out of the question.

It was four in the morning when I headed back to the apartment. My shirt stuck to my sweaty body and my veins were still pulsating with adrenaline.

I parked the Vespa in the street and froze when I spotted Anna in front of the building. She didn’t have keys, so of course she had to wait in front of it. I stalked toward her, torn between overwhelming relief and fury.

Anna’s lips were puffy as if she’d spent the night glued to Maurice’s lips, or worse… The mere idea made my blood pump with jealousy and rage.

“You’re lucky I’m supposed to protect you, or I’d kill you!” I growled as I grabbed her arm, unlocked the door and dragged her upstairs.

To my surprise, Anna followed along without much protest.

I released her once we were in our apartment and away from curious eyes. “Where the hell have you been?”