A Taste Of Sin

DADDY'S PLUS SIZE ADDICTION - 5

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NATALIE

My eyes stayed locked on the lipstick stain. I curled my fingers into tight fists as one ugly emotion crashed into the next.

Betrayal.

Jealousy.

Rage.

Who the hell was she?

I had always suspected Luca was cheating. The late nights. The endless business trips. The way he barely touched me anymore.

But suspicion was one thing.

A lipstick stain on his shirt was another.

Whose lipstick is that?

The question burned at the back of my throat, but I already knew how this would go.

Luca would snap, I’d get flustered, and somehow I’d end up apologizing for having the nerve to ask.

So I did what I always did.

I swallowed it.

Another question buried with all the others I’d been too afraid to ask.

Luca had already reached the foot of the staircase when I finally forced my voice past the knot in my throat.

“Your father’s coming over for dinner.”

He stopped.

One hand tightened around the polished wooden banister before he slowly turned his head.

“What?”

“Your father called earlier,” I lied, watching his face carefully. “He said he’d be here tonight.”

His shoulders stiffened.

A curse slipped beneath his breath. Then he turned and disappeared upstairs.

I stared after him for a moment before heading up myself. Luca was already in the shower when I entered our bedroom. My eyes drifted over the rose petals scattered across the floor and the candles that had almost burned themselves out.

I had spent the entire afternoon turning this room into the perfect anniversary surprise. I had really believed tonight would be different. That maybe, just maybe, my husband would finally look at me and want me again.

Instead, everything had somehow become even more complicated.

I slipped into a knee-length emerald wrap dress that hugged my curves, the plunging neckline showing enough cleavage to make me feel feminine and desirable.

I gathered my hair into a low ponytail and studied my reflection, smoothing my hands over the fabric.

For one strange second, I wondered if I was even dressing for Luca anymore.

The thought caught me completely off guard. I didn’t like where it was leading. So I pushed it away before I could think about it any longer.

Then I went downstairs.

The food had gone cold. I reheated everything and straightened the table, keeping my hands busy because the moment they stopped, my mind went straight back to Vincenzo.

•••

The doorbell rang. My heart gave a nervous jolt.

Luca came downstairs in a fresh white shirt. He adjusted the cuff of one sleeve, spared me a brief glance, then crossed the hallway and pulled open the front door.

“Stay calm, Nat,” I muttered, twisting the kitchen towel between my damp palms.

It had barely been a few hours since I’d let my guard down with Vincenzo. Now I was about to see him again, and my heart was already pounding.

The front door opened. I heard Luca greet him before I saw anyone enter.

“Dad. Welcome.” His greeting was curt, almost reluctant.

Then Vincenzo walked in.

His icy blue eyes swept across the room before locking onto mine, and for one terrifying second, neither of us looked away.

My breath caught instantly. He looked so different from earlier.

His dark shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms and exposing the tattoos winding over his skin. Even the heavy watch around his wrist caught my attention, along with the veins standing out across the back of his hand as he slipped both hands into his trousers.

I hated that I noticed every damn detail. His eyes travelled slowly over my dress before settling on my face, and my stomach fluttered.

Luca never made me feel like this.

With Vincenzo, there was no disappointment or irritation in his gaze. Just a warmth that made me hyper aware of every inch of myself.

“Don’t blush,” I warned myself.

Too fucking late.

Heat was already crawling up my cheeks.

“Hey, Natalie. Long time no see.”

The familiar voice behind him shattered the moment.

I tore my eyes away from Vincenzo and looked at Matteo.

His second-in-command stood just inside the doorway. I’d known him for years, though Luca had always warned me to stay away from him.

“Welcome, Matteo,” I said.

He gave me a brief smile, but his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, then turned to Vincenzo.

“I need to take this, Don. It’s from the warehouse.”

Vincenzo nodded.

His eyes stayed on me as Matteo stepped outside.

Just like that, it was only the three of us.

Luca cleared his throat and gestured toward the dining room.

“Shall we eat?”

His father strode towards the table in silence. Luca followed.

I stepped away from the table, still clutching the kitchen towel. I hurried into the kitchen and tucked it away. By the time I returned, the men were already seated.

I reached for my usual seat beside Luca.

Before I could sit, Vincenzo pulled out the chair beside him.

“Sit here.”

I froze.

My eyes flicked from him to Luca.

Luca’s jaw tightened. He gave me a sharp look before looking away.

Damn.

Why was Vincenzo doing this? He knew exactly how much his presence affected me, yet he kept pushing me further.

Still, I walked over and lowered myself into the chair beside him, two seats away from Luca at the head of the table.

The moment I sat down, I became painfully aware of how close he was. His arm rested casually against his thigh, and the clean, masculine scent of his cologne drifted towards me.

His leg was only inches from mine.

Too close.

I lowered my eyes to my plate.

Don’t look at him.

Don’t think about him.

I reached for my fork, determined to focus on anything but the man sitting beside me. But ignoring him was nearly impossible. The slightest movement beside me kept pulling my attention back to him. He was devastatingly handsome.

Being this close to him was becoming a dangerous kind of torture.

I pushed the food around my plate, pretending I was actually hungry, then took a bite and chewed slowly. I barely tasted it. Across the table, Luca was focused on his meal. I glanced at him, then quickly looked away.

Dinner continued in a strained silence for a few more minutes.

Then Vincenzo moved his hand from his thigh. A second later, his fingers brushed against my bare thigh beneath the table.

I stiffened.

A hot thrill shot through me, and my fingers tightened around the fork.

Now, what the hell was he doing?