He would hit on me at least three times a week or make some inappropriate comment when he thought no one was around. My Angelo would have put a bullet in Mike’s skull if he knew one of his father’s men made sexual advances at me. But he was one of those old timers who had no clue they were doing anything wrong.

I hung up without another word, dreading my dinner date. Mike had a reputation around the office. He’d wooed almost anything in a skirt. My father thought of him as a brother, which made exposing his truths complicated. Every time I mentioned his proclivities, my dad would shake it off, pretending Mike walked on air and all was good in the world.

As I stood in his doorway, wearing a skirt and blouse, his eyes traveled over my body before settling on my breasts, a devious expression crossing his face. I was used to men doing the exact same thing, but I would never get used to Mike doing it. Only Angelo was allowed to give me that bend-over-and-spread-your-legs look and get away with it.

Mike pointed to the brown bags on his conference table engraved with the CC logo found on everything in the office. “The food just arrived.”

I sucked in a deep breath and nodded, slowly making my way toward him. After I sifted through the containers, I sat at the opposite end of the table from him, as usual. The table had twelve chairs, yet I ate far enough away that I could’ve been in a different room.

“So far away, Gianna. I have to show you the design specifications. You won’t be able to see them from the other end of the table.” Mike patted the leather cushion of the high-back chair next to him.

“I?

??m fine down here,” I mumbled between bites of chicken Alfredo. “Let me eat first.”

Using a spoon to twirl the noodles onto my fork, I glanced over at him. He even stared at me while he ate, shoveling his food in his mouth like a pig eating out of a trough.

After he finished eating, he slid next to me with a stack of documents in hand and a rolled up map of the construction site. He set them in front of me, moving the documents next to my legal pad and pen. I flipped through the pages, one at a time, until I had a sense of what we were building.

“A townhouse development,” I said, perplexed. “Why would we want to own and operate an association in the middle of nowhere? There’s no civilization for miles.”

“It’s not about the location.”

“Then, what’s it about? I don’t understand why you would want me to sign off on funding for this project when it doesn’t make any sense. According to the documents, we’re paying more than the land is worth.”

“Talk to your father. He understands how this business works.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I sank back into my chair, studying the papers. “I never heard of JK Developers. Why are we buying the land from them?”

“The owners are close personal friends of the family.”

“Oh,” I said, now knowing what he meant. But that didn’t help me understand why I was signing off on the financing for the housing development in the boondocks of Pennsylvania. This deal was a favor for someone else, not an acquisition for Carlini Construction.

My father was supposed to get rid of the shady deals we had going for the Morellis and replace them with legitimate ones. Why was I surprised he lied? Half of the names on our payroll were connected men. Most of our employees were nothing more than names on a paycheck. They did zero to contribute to my family’s company in any way, other than to take up space and hit on secretaries when they wanted to pretend they had a real job. Mike was a creep, but at least he was the exception. He earned the money we gave him.

“I want to talk to my dad before I sign anything. Okay?”

He nodded. “If that will make you feel better, go right ahead.”

“I’m sure everything’s fine. Give me until tomorrow afternoon. I can stop by the office between my breaks from school.”

After I cleaned up the mess from my dinner, I dumped it into the garbage can and exited his office. I stomped past the reception desk and into the hall where I pressed the button and waited for the elevator. The doors opened to an empty car, which was a welcome relief. I stepped out of the elevator and shuffled down the corridor faster than I could blink, making a beeline for my office.

Once inside my office, I leaned against the door, taking a second to comprehend the documents in my hand. Of all the illegal shit I’d helped Angelo with over the years this was the worst. Something was off about the land acquisition. I felt it in my bones.

My phone vibrated in the pocket of my suit jacket. It was Angelo. Seeing his adorable smirk and bright blue eyes on my screen brought a smile to my face. I sucked in a deep breath and let it out, wondering if my life would have turned out differently had I not been in love with Angelo Morelli. He could’ve been the end of me at any moment. But I didn’t know how to be anyone else without him.

I held the phone in my hand, staring at his handsome face. He’d had me from the minute he clutched my hand on the swing set and showed me how to jump. When I was with Angelo, I was never afraid. He made me strong—just like him.

I slid the bar across the screen and pressed the phone to my ear. “Hey, baby.”

“Ciao, bella,” he whispered. I loved when he spoke to me in Italian. Angelo never forgot to tell me I was beautiful every day. He worshiped me as much as I him.

I smiled from the second I heard his voice, until the minute he told me he was canceling our dinner plans because something came up. His brothers were ruining our lives. Angelo’s job was taking him away from me. Ever since the night of my father’s party, Angelo was different, more distant than usual. He always had someplace to be, and I was never allowed to go. I was sick of waiting around for him to include me in his plans. If I wanted answers, I had to take charge.

Chapter Eight

Tags: Jillian Quinn Sins of the Past Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net