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Perfect Villain (Dark Lies Duet 1)

Page 32

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I stare at him, my jaw clenching tight at the mention of Siân. He’s right. This—my staying in town, this apartment, even me being distracted—it’s about Siân—for Siân. Tony wouldn’t understand because this isn’t how I usually operate. Typically, when I ask him to find someone, they’re dead shortly after. Siân is different. Siân is my obsession, and like every other drug, she’s addicting.

“Jennifer,” I say sternly and walk around Tony, “thank you for meeting us. I know the office closes early on Sundays, but I just really had to see the place.”

She smiles, her eyes lighting up the moment I’m close to her. And when I reach out to brush a strand of hair from her face, her breath hitches. “Of course. It’s my pleasure.” Her grin widens, and she shies away, turning to run her hand along the counter. “So, how do you like the space? This kitchen is to die for. Perfect for your lady friend to cook for you.” And there it is, the inevitable flirting. “I’m sorry if I’m assuming. The paperwork you sent over before you arrived didn’t list any other names.”

But she asked if Tony would be here with me. She knows the answer and is just fishing for what she’s truly curious about. The moment I stepped out of the Ferrari, I saw the lust build in her eyes from the entryway of this ridiculously expensive high-rise.

I let out a low smirk and walk farther into the kitchen. “Actually, I’m a much better cook than my girlfriend,” I toss over my shoulder and catch the disappointment wash over her. I run my gaze along the length of the island. “Is this real marble?” I knock on the surface.

I lied—partially. Siân is mine, but she just doesn’t know it yet.

“Yes. It is. Everything in this apartment is high-end, from the deep-set sink built into your island, the stove, fridge, and even a state-of-the-art shower. This is a loft, so the floor plan is open and leads out to the extended balcony. But the bedroom and office are closed to provide privacy.”

Jennifer describes all the features while Tony talks on his phone, glancing between me and the view overlooking the city. But again, my mind wanders, and images of Siân’s innocent face flood me. Everywhere I look or move in this apartment, I picture her being here and me having my way with her. This countertop sits at the perfect height for me to splay her across it and fuck her senseless. In the center of the living room on the brand-new hardwood floors. Up against the built-in bookshelf that’s right off the front door. Everywhere.

Blinking to clear my mind, I rejoin the others in the large, open living room. Jennifer is stationed back at the island with a stack of papers in front of her.

“So, you still want to call this place home?” she asks with a pleading smile.

I nod and give her the biggest and fakest grin I can muster. “It’s perfect.”

“Great. I’ll tell you, Mr. Russo, this has been the easiest apartment booking ever. Thanks to your assistant sending over all your details earlier, I could get approval and do everything I needed on this end. So all I need from you is a cashier’s check, money order, or card payment to handle the deposit and first and last month’s rent, and you’ve got yourself a new home.”

I clear my throat, and a second later, Tony saunters up next to me and holds out an envelope with the cashier’s check I ordered him to get before we arrived. His grip is tight, forcing me to have to snatch it from him. Jennifer glances back and forth between us, the look of worry and curiosity building on her features again. But like most humans, her mood changes when she takes the check from my hand.

“The check is for the full six months. If you need any other verifying information, you can contact my assistant, and he’ll get you what you need,” I announce with a hard slap to Tony’s back.

He flinches from the pain and glares at me, but keeps it together in front of Jennifer.

“Wow. I guess you weren’t kidding when you said money was no object?”

I tip my head with a shrug. “And the furniture?”

“It’ll be here and set up in three days, on Wednesday.”

Jennifer smiles with her eyes when I offer her my hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Russo.”

“Please, call me Christian.”

She nods. “Sure thing. Well, gentlemen, I’ve been here long enough on a Sunday. I have a five-year-old who’s been texting me for the past hour to pick him up from his grandmother’s. So, I’d say we’re good here. I’ll have your furniture set up and your keys ready for you midday on Wednesday, and if there is nothing else you need…” Jennifer waves toward the door, silently encouraging us to exit.


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