Home > Dirty Truths (Boys of Bellerose #2)(7)

Dirty Truths (Boys of Bellerose #2)(7)
Author: Jaymin Eve

Without meaning to, I laughed. “No shit.”

He glanced over at me again; this time a small smile curved his lips. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Bella.”

I bit the inside of my lip, shifting my gaze out the window to avoid replying. A horrible feeling swirled through my chest as I was too sure he meant that literally. I was in way over my head with Angelo Ricci, and all I wanted to do was run crying back into the arms of Bellerose.

They must all hate me by now. Even Rhett…

Fuck, that hurt.

 

 

five

 

 

BILLIE


Three weeks had passed since that incident, and the only reason I even knew that it was a Friday was tonight’s huge fundraiser benefitting Siena Homeless, a charity gala event honoring the Ricci family’s position as pillars of this community.

Ironic, considering eighty percent of their income was derived through illegal means, with only twenty percent being legit through their restaurants. They were determined to be seen as upstanding citizens, firmly planted in the upper echelons of Siena, and not a single person could—or would—stand in their way. Especially not their son’s trashy mistress.

Giovanni’s words, not mine.

“You will ensure she’s there, showing off the future heir,” he snarled to Angelo after I suggested that it might be better for me not to make an appearance. The head of the Ricci clan made great pains to never address me directly.

“You know that Vee is going to be there,” Angelo reminded his father. “Maybe it would be best to save the drama for another night.”

His wife. His fucking wife was going to be there for fuck’s sake. There hadn’t ever been a worse idea than this one, and considering the agreement Angelo and I had entered into, that was saying a lot.

Biting back the urge to speak again, I crossed my arms and sighed, sinking deeper into myself. I’d been slowly losing pieces of who I was over the past two and a half months. Piece by piece. Drop by drop. I’d bled out my pain in tears and heartache, suffered in silence as I screamed and cried into my pillow, and now I was numb.

Some days I kind of wished I’d just stepped out in front of one of those bullets back in the restaurant. Better me than Liz. She hadn’t deserved to die and would probably have gone on to live a half-decent life. Not as someone’s prisoner with a ticking bomb over her head, anyway.

“Don’t fucking question me again,” Giovanni snapped at his son and heir. “If you’re not there tonight, I promise, there’ll be serious consequences. We can never let them know there are cracks in our armor, or they will destroy us.”

Apparently, parading your pregnant mistress was fine, not a crack to be seen, but heaven forbid you hid her away in the house when there was an event on. Cracking all over the place.

Giovanni was gone in the next instant, and I didn’t feel the tension flee from me like it would have a few weeks ago. I’d moved past feeling relief in any way, shape, or form. Now it was just pain and duty. And if that duty didn’t work out, I couldn’t find it in myself to care.

The lack of fear over my death was starting to concern me. Or at least it would have if I honestly had any fucks left to give.

“Bella,” Angelo said, voice loud enough that I knew it wasn’t the first time he’d addressed me. “What’s wrong with you?”

Blinking slowly at him, I tried to find my way back into my own body. It was almost as if part of my soul left when shit got intense these days, and it was growing harder to return each time.

“What did you say?”

There was very little fire in my voice, and as he stepped closer, eyebrows bunching together, I swallowed roughly.

“I said, we have no choice about tonight, but I’ll make sure to protect you from anyone who might want to hurt you on Vee’s behalf.” His look of concern remained strongly etched across his features.

“Cool,” I said listlessly, hand falling to the swell of my stomach. “I’ll find something to wear.”

One thing I didn’t lack for was clothing, shoes, and accessories. An entire room, as large as my old apartment, was filled to the brim with every designer outfit that you could imagine. All of them with the tags still on, since I was more comfortable in sweats these days.

Turning away, I thought Angelo said something else, but I’d already closed off my mind and senses to him, mentally preparing for whatever horrible shit I would go through tonight at this Ricci event. I’d be dressed like a mafia princess, but they’d all know I was the whore.

“Fucking hell, Bella!”

His growled curse was loud enough that it actually registered, and before I could react, Angelo’s firm grip wrapped around my shoulders and he spun me, leaning down at the same time to slam his lips against mine. It was a hard, aggressive move, and it reminded me just a little of how Grayson liked to dominate my mouth.

Of course, this wasn’t Grayson. Not even fucking close. Angelo’s kiss only filled me with fear and disgust for the abuse of his power over me.

With a cry, I slapped my hands against his chest, attempting to push him away. Only it was like moving a fucking building. I’d never be able to move Angelo when he didn’t want to move.

In fact, the strength in the body beneath my palms actually took me by surprise. He’d always been fit, even when we were teens, but now he was solid muscle. Muscle that was refusing to let me go. The firm grip of his hands bit into my biceps, holding me firmly in place.

Terror traced its way down my spine, a truly strong emotion for the first time in a long time. But mingled in that fear was a faint sense of familiarity that had flutters racing across my chest.

Angelo growled again and slowed the aggression of his kiss, easing the pace, as his lips parted and he pressed his tongue forward, demanding entry. I wanted to bite him, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to do that. If anything, it was harder to not open my mouth and allow him the access he wanted.

My head spun as the taste of scotch and plums assaulted me, and I knew he’d had a drink before he’d taken this meeting with his father. Probably a good idea considering what had happened after Giovanni arrived.

Beneath the alcohol, though, there was that hint of spice I always associated with Angelo. My Angelo. The one who had loved me and held me together when my life was falling apart. He’d treated me like I was precious, and in a different way than Jace. At one point in time, just before that fateful day I’d destroyed everything, I’d been on top of the world. I’d been loved by these two boys. Loved, fucked, adored, and cherished. They taught me about my heart, soul, and especially the wants and needs of my body.

Until it had all exploded in a ball of flames, literally. Flames that would steal away what remained of my family… and my baby.

A therapist would no doubt tell me I was spiraling with Angelo, due to the triggering of past scars and losses I’d never dealt with. Especially since I was currently firmly entrenched into the role of mafia-heir baby mama. But then again, maybe a therapist would just tell me I was a weak, pathetic mess and to pull myself together.

Both were no doubt true and accurate.

“Angel,” I growled, finally jerking my face away from his. He was near bent in half to bring himself to my level, and he showed no surprise when I hauled back and slapped him hard across the face. If anything, when he jerked away, blinking down at me from his normal height, he actually looked pleased. Small fucking smirk and everything.

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