◆ Some Gut Feel ◆

◆ MILES ◆

1 new message

From: Ricchar

"Ignazio called to ask if I'll be there at his party tomorrow. Zio still ghosting you? My calls still can't get through"

Today 01:29AM

Shit. He's asking again if I'd heard from Pappa. Meaning: my father's been MIA for about two days now. What the shit's he up to now?

With a sigh, I curbed the painful urge to smash my useless phone onto the nightstand while the naked brunette on top of me kept stroking my hair like I was a baby she had to put to sleep.

The girl wasn't totally naked under the covers, though. Her bra still covered her heaving chest—even after she'd screwed me twice. Maybe she was a tad insecure about her rack. Or maybe she just liked to keep them on during sex.

I didn't really care—I just needed some distraction. A willing and very attractive distraction. Even though I doubted her at first, she proved to be a good one. At least for a few hours. Or maybe my dick only got hard because she looked like Kel in some angles.

Straight, shiny dark hair. Light-colored eyes. Small face. Pale skin. This new girl was curvier, but I didn't mind. She gave me a good time despite my shitty behavior since I laid eyes on her outside that liquor store.

"I don't do this at all. But thanks for letting me stay," she murmured to my cheek before she moved away from me.

Fuck. Even her voice reminded me of Mykaela. It's like my damned conscience became a real person and haunted me for cheating on my best friend. Again. Only difference was Kel sounded American, while this one sounded like she just got off a flight from London and came here for a quick vacation.

"No problem," was all I said. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand, then sat up on the bed while her close-lipped smile held my attention.

Her eyes kept staring at me as if my haggard face interested her much more than my hard cock. She didn't look tired yet, the complete opposite of how I felt. Even under dim lights, her jawline still looked way more defined than my long-term goals.

It's mostly why I thought she looked like Kel. Or perhaps I just missed my best friend way more than usual.

My inner saboteur had been gnawing at my insides since this hottie stood dangerously close to me outside that old store. At first glance, I genuinely thought she was a hooker just scouting for a customer.

She smelled and looked too good to be true. The way she spoke like a corporate statistician when I showed her my receipt convinced me she wasn't actually a hustler looking for a young-looking customer.

Minutes later, my libido just took over. I didn't even think of the consequences. We went at it right after checking into this hotel room. I'd asked for more, then secretly checked my wallet to make sure I had enough cash to pay for her company.

The usual. But unlike the others, she held my interest longer than I thought.  So I let her stay. Well, she's not as annoying as the other distractions I'd met in seedy bars and clubs.  Also, she let me suck fresh blood from her arm without giving me any judgmental looks.

So far, I only knew her first name: "Anne". Clearly not her real one. No girl with her face and body would use a name as boring as taxes.

But it could be a nickname or something. I didn't ask. We hadn't done much talking the past hour and a half. Just a lot of torrid kissing and heavy petting while I tried not to imagine downing a whole bottle of sleeping pills before sunrise.

Her warm cum on my dick and abs assured me she enjoyed my company, too. She talked and looked like a college girl but fucked like a pornstar. A pretty lethal combination, I just discovered.

Shit. We didn't even use condoms. Although she seemed cleaner than I was, I shouldn't blindly trust her word when she said the pill would do.

Initially, I also doubted her when she told me she was 26. But it's not like I should force her to show me her ID. I didn't really care to look through her stuff. "Sure your boyfriend's not gonna mind?" I watched her long-lashed eyes study my face as if she's memorizing my features.

"Nope. Left him in Rome months ago."

"Rome? You lived together?" I looked away and peeked at the time. Shit. My watch said I should leave now and get some sleep in my own house—not waste more time making small talk with strangers. But the lower half of my anatomy dictated otherwise.

"For about a year. Got tired of his bullshit. So I split." Anne gave me another smile that didn't do anything to her stunning eyes. Then she got off the bed to use the bathroom.

Finally. Some privacy.  After putting on my underwear, I grabbed my phone to call my bodyguard.

He should be waiting downstairs in the lobby. Not snoring his ass off in my car. "Boss," Alei greeted in a pinched voice.

"You heard from Pappa?"

"Negative."

"Merda." I shut the door behind me. "Who's with him? You know his new bodyguard's number?" I leaned against the concrete balustrade.

"Gianni. Rolf. Still ignoring my calls."

"Mamma's not replying to my texts. Won't call me back, either. Call her bodyguards. Ask if she's home."

"Copy." Alessio cleared his throat. "What about the party? We're going?"

"I'll be down in five. Get the car." I ended the call and tried a deep breath to calm my thoughts.

That stupid and insanely extravagant party could end up in flames and charred remains for all I care. But since my father wanted me to prove to the Tomassinis that I gave a shit about them beyond their business relationship with Pappa, I had to show up at the event to offer my condolences to that old creep.

Enzo and Leandro's favorite uncle: Ignazio. His brother, Don Luciano, just died after another stroke. But of course that wouldn't stop Ignazio from wasting his weekend on our brand new cruise ship with young callgirls and overpriced booze.

At face value, he looked totally normal.  Just another busy, balding guy in his 60s who liked making money as much as our clan did.  But behind closed doors, the man's like the .01 percent of the germs Lysol couldn't kill. Toxic waste this hellbound generation just couldn't get rid of.

I checked my notifications again. Shit. Even Mamma's ignoring my messages and calls. The heck?

Did she go somewhere with Pappa? Somewhere remote? A seaside town with poor reception?

Or was she back in Umbria? No. She would've texted me back at least once.

"Dammit." I sighed when her phone just kept ringing. After my third try, I gave up and called my cousin again.

Ricchar picked up after the fourth ring. "What now?"

"Mamma's not picking up, either."

"I talked to her yesterday. She told me she's staying home all weekend. Zio wasn't there. I called her before I booked the pilot."

"What else did she say?" I clasped the smooth edge of the railing as the cold midnight breeze ruffled my hair, blocking my view of the dark, starless sky.

"Not much. She sounded distracted. She hung up before I could say bye. Must be real busy with the books or something."

It could be the case. But a weird feeling in my gut's trying to sell me a different story. "You going to the party?" I asked when Ricchar didn't say anything else. "Ignazio wants you there?"

"I can't. Cloe wants to see me pronto."

"Why? She okay?"

"Yeah. Just missing me badly. Can't blame her, though."

Eww. "Keep your compliments and ancient sex jokes to yourself. Don't tell anyone I'm going to the party. Alei's coming with. But we won't stay all night."

"Bring lots of cash and protection." Ricchar chuckled on the other line, his enthusiastic tone obviously teasing. "Don't forget the guns."

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