Page 54 of His Vicious Vow
Sandro is on a laptop, and there are two phones on the desk that’s appeared between the four chairs that were facing each other. He nods at me but says nothing.
I decide to sit in on the chairs facing forward, away from him. A voice comes through speakers I can’t see letting us know we’re preparing to land, please put on our seatbelts and that it’s nine thirty Vegas time.
The landing is so smooth I barely feel it. I unclip the seatbelt and follow Sandro out of the plane. We’re at a tiny airport. There’s only one massive hangar housing several jets and a few two seater planes.
A black SUV is waiting on the tarmac. The driver door opens and a very large man gets out.
“Hey boss, we missed you. Have a good honeymoon?” The man asks. He smiles at me hesitantly. “I’m Bobby, Mrs. Leonetti.”
“Nice to meet you, Bobby. Please call me Carina.”
Sandro is at my back. “No, Bobby will not call you Carina. He knows better than that. It’s either Mrs. Leonetti or ma’am. Isn’t that right, Bobby?”
Bobby nods fast, without any fear of Sandro. “Yes, Boss. I know better. Ain’t no way I’m losing my life by becoming too familiar. But thank you for the invitation.”
I shrug and get into the SUV. I’m not going to argue with anyone, I’ve learned my lesson. No more saying yes just because someone told me no.
The entire drive Sandro works his cell phone. We arrive at a hotel on the strip. I’ve heard the name from Carlo and even Tony once. I was shocked a place this nice that few people had the money to stay in was a mafia hotel and casino. Bobby drives us into a parking garage but doesn’t park, instead stopping in front of an elevator.
“I’ll be back in about ten.” Sandro says to Bobby before getting out.
I open my door and slide out. Following Sandro into what is clearly a private elevator I watch him press his thumb against a reader. When he does more buttons light up for him to push. He pushes the top button and the elevator shoots up.
The doors open out into an enormous, marble foyer before going straight into a kitchen. It’s a chef’s dream, not mine but it’s nice. Sandro stops in front of a cupboard that’s split in two with upper and lower cabinets. He opens the top one it’s filled with my cups. The bottom one is filled with all my teas.
“Your things, you can change where you want it to go.”
It’s odd seeing my things. It hits me, this is where I live now.
“You don’t have to cook if you don’t want to, you can call down for room service. There are four restaurants in the hotel you can order from as well as a pastry place. And if there’s nothing you want from the restaurants you can get anything delivered.” He walks to a slim black phone on the wall above the light switch. “These phones are scattered throughout the penthouse. The front desk downstairs will be on the other end, let them know if you need something, anything from a book to a phone charger, to any kind of food. They’ll take care of it. If there is any pushback you let me know. What would you like for,” he glances at his watch. “Let’s call it brunch.”
I shrug even though his question reminds me I haven’t eaten since before we left Italy.
An eyebrow goes up. “You need to eat.”
“I don’t know right now. I’ll order later.”
He picks up the phone and proceeds to order so much food I’m shaking my head because there is no way in hell I can eat all of it. When he finally puts down the phone he shrugs. “You should have said what you wanted. Whatever you don’t want can be put away for later.”
Before I can tell him he’s ridiculous he turns and walks out of the kitchen leaving me to follow. I get why he asked me to change up the place, it’s beautiful but cold. The art is geometric bland, and boring when it appears. From the kitchen there’s a dining room with a long wood table that seats twelve. The living room isn’t so bad, there’s a long green silk couch, with a tufted ottoman used as a coffee table between the couch and two leather chairs. An enormous wall of windows shows a swimming pool, and an outdoor kitchen and table with four chairs.
Down a hallway there’s a guest restroom, I’m shown to my bedroom. He points to his bedroom, his sister’s room and a room that’s his office—I’m not to go into his office. I don’t miss the way he stays in the open doorway of my room, not entering. The room is filled with boxes and suitcases the boxes were ones I packed—wait a minute. “You got into my storage unit?”
An eyebrow goes up. “Of course. Nothing was unpacked as I wanted to give you the opportunity to make changes in the room. Natasha has scheduled an interior designer scheduled for two hours from now. Enough time for you and Natasha to go over what you want for the wedding.”
A voice comes from outside in the hallway. Sandro backs away from the doorway giving the woman enough room to enter. She’s gorgeous, tall, blonde, and I immediately like her. “Hello, I’m Natasha. Lovely to meet you. We have sooo much work to do on this wedding. Shoo big boss. If I need you, I’ll call you.”
I’m shocked when Sandro simply nods. He leaves without a look back at me or Natasha.
Natasha prompts me to her with a hand motion. “Come along, I set up shop in the dining room. You must give me the full story on you and Sandro. I’ve never seen him like this, you turned him into a real boy.”
I’m following her to the dining room. Damn she moves fast. Much faster than Sandro. It hits me, I’ve never had to run to keep up with Sandro, except when I said the stupidest thing in the world. As short as I am it’s rare for me not to rush to keep up with people. The only person I’ve never had to try to keep up with is Celia. There is absolutely no way he didn’t slow down for me considering he’s an entire foot taller than me.
She sits down where an enormous binder is already laid out along with a stack of bridal magazines. “Good thing for you, I was midway through planning one with Bella. So we already have a flower vendor waiting with baited breath to supply what you want. And we’re lucky we handle weddings here all the time. I had to bump the couple that was planning to get married on your wedding day.” She giggles. “Man were they mad. But when we refunded them plus gave them another credit to the hotel to use however they wanted whether it’s in the casino or as a stay or both.”
“You canceled someone’s wedding who was getting married in just two weeks?” I’m stunned as I sit down beside her.
“Oh no, sweetie. You have to sit across from me. I doubt Sandro will come back anytime soon but I’m not allowed to get close to you. I’m gay and even though you are a total cutie and I’m not interested Sandro has decreed no one gets close to you.” She giggles as I try to process the bizarre demand. “I know right? It’s hilarious. One of his exes was a stripper who kept working while they dated and he didn’t give a shit. I told you. I’m desperate to find out what went on between you two. He smiled, he joked—it was more deadpan but still it was humor. I didn’t think he knew how to be funny.”