By Virtue I Fall (Sins of the Fathers #3)(47)

“You’re in a foul mood. Didn’t the French-Wench cheer you up? She gave you her Vespa as a thank you, I suppose.”

“Where the hell were you?” I got in her face, so very close to exploding. I immediately smelled the alcohol on her breath. “Are you drunk?”

She grinned. “Maybe. I think we shared two bottles of very delicious wine.”

I gritted my teeth. “You met with Maurice?”

“I did. Why should you be the only one to have fun?”

I’d find the fucker and chop off his head. “What happened?”

I wasn’t even sure why I was asking. Anna’s lips were swollen, her hair tousled and her blouse buttoned the wrong way. Even an idiot could guess what she’d been up to with Maurice. Maybe I should have expected it. Anna was an eighteen-year-old who finally got a taste of freedom. She’d been trying to seduce me for weeks—hell, months now—of course, she’d eventually find someone else who’d scratch her itch.

Regret tasted bitter in my mouth. Why did I not take her up on her offer? Why did I have to act noble when I decidedly wasn’t?

Anna smiled crookedly. “It’s the city of love, what do you think happened?”

I nodded, bottling up my rage as deeply as I could even when I wanted to roar. Anna wasn’t mine, had never been, and would never be, but my heart didn’t care. I was jealous.

“I hope it was worth pissing me off. Because from this day on, I won’t leave you out of my sight for a second.”

“Is that so?”

I didn’t say anything only glared at her, even if it hurt looking at her when the proof of what she’d done with Maurice screamed at me. I hadn’t hooked up with anyone in more than a month now because Anna had wormed her way into my head and wouldn’t leave.

Anna shrugged. “All right.” She began unbuttoning her shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“If you’ll follow me wherever I go, I might as well undress right here.”

Still not done playing?

I didn’t react.

Anna opened her blouse, revealing one of those lacy bras I always saw laying around in the bathroom. She then pulled down the zipper at the back of her skirt and let the piece of clothing drop to the floor. In only her underwear, she was a sight to behold. But I didn’t give her the satisfaction, of checking out every inch of her body, even if I wanted to. I had seen her naked, had memorized every inch of her body.

“I’m heading into the bathroom now,” she said, turning around, presenting round ass globes to me. She bent forward to pick up her skirt. The string of her thong between her ass cheeks teased me and barely covered her pussy.

I could have had this, if I hadn’t been trying to be a virtuous idiot. Now Maurice had had his paws all over this amazing ass, and I had pushed Veronique away.

Maybe I should go down to her. She’d probably still let me in for a fuck even after I’d turned her down before. I could fuck the anger out of my system, could fuck Anna out of my system.

Anna sauntered into the bathroom and left the door open. I didn’t follow her but I watched her through the open door. She unhooked her bra to perfectly shaped breasts that would fill out my hands if I kneaded them. Despite her slender figure, Anna didn’t have small breasts. She finally removed her thong and tossed it into the laundry bin. The idea that Maurice had seen her like this was too fucking much.

I turned around and stalked into my bedroom. Anna had always been Clifford’s, always been someone else’s, which was why she’d been forbidden to me. It had never bothered me because for the time being, she’d almost been mine, even if I had never had her in the first place. Sharing her with someone in the now was too fucking much for me.

I got out of my clothes and lay down. I listened to the sound of the shower, feeling an even deeper sense of regret.

I desired Anna. I wanted her still.

Why was I still holding back?





I cocked an eyebrow. Anna leaned in the doorway in what looked like an oversized dress shirt and a wide leather belt accentuating her narrow waist. She wasn’t wearing shoes or tights, and the top buttons were open.

She held a shoebox in her hand. “I need batteries.”

I got up from the kitchen table where I had been typing and deleting my letter of resignation to Dante for the last hour. It wasn’t the first time I did it either. I’d lost count of the number of resignation letters I’d written and deleted by now. Ever since the night Anna had snuck off with Maurice two weeks ago, I’d been considering quitting the job. I knew what I should be doing, but I couldn’t bring myself to hit send. For weeks I had been fighting with myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about Anna, about her body, about her coy smile. About how I’d let Maurice have her. I’d smelled his aftershave on her another time after she’d come out of fashion school. He’d probably snuck in and met her for a quickie in a bathroom stall. Anna hadn’t denied anything, and I had tried to bottle up my unreasonable jealousy and fury.

“Santino?” Anna strolled over to me and of course, I tensed. I closed the laptop. If she found out I wanted to quit she’d find a way to make me stay and I had a feeling I’d gladly allow her to do so.

“Don’t be scared. I’ll be nice,” she said with the teasing smile that drove me up the wall.