Elegance with Expense

56. Never Ending Damnation

Santiano tilted his head, then looked to the side to see if his son had witnessed his sly interaction. He hadn't, Vince had better things to do. So did I, but it happened right in front of my eyes, I was bound to notice somehow.

I was mid-sentence, contrasting legislations, when the waitress came back. Now, however, her hair was tied in a neat ponytail, and she set the drink down on the table we both shared, leaning across far too much for it to be classed as a natural action.

It may have been ok before, when she innocently leant down to hear my father, but the desperation was obvious now, she craved his attention.

Her behind was so far outstretched, it nearly reached an unbothered Vincent. She let go of the glass, trailing her fingers across the polished wood table, then seductively across my fathers tanned arm.

I know how men seemingly cannot control themselves when they see something their dick tells them they want, it was a weakness.

Luckily, I was there.

I lifted my foot, thankfully the table ensured that nobody could see what I was doing, not even the unexpecting Santiano. I then shuffled forwards in my seat, making it seem as though I was reading something from my spreadsheets, I dug my heel into the shoe that probably cost more than me. 

I looked up, seeing how his jaw clenched. To anyone else, this would have looked natural, but knowing that I inflicted some sort of pain onto him was quite the achievement, it made the small reaction obvious.

The oblivious woman bent down more, whispering something in his ear, allowing a brief moment of eye contact between us. I shook my head at him, and he ignorantly turned away.

I rolled my eyes with frustration, knowing that the lady's words could have been nothing but trouble. 

'Excuse me.' I reached over and tapped on her shoulder. She looked irritated, and distressed as she stopped and spun quickly. 'When you're done seducing my father, can you fix me a martini, no ice, stirred for 25 minutes, with two olives on a skewer.' 

'Aren't you underage?' Her lip curved into disgust as she put a manicured hand on her hip.

'Aren't you 20 years younger than him?' I referred to Santiano who still hadn't recovered from the fact that I had called him my father. 'Besides, it's not for me, it's for him.' I pointed to Manuel, who was yet to pleasure himself with a bitter beverage.

'I'm not done serving Mr Rossi.' She flicked her blonde hair behind her back, and she put a hand on the table, looking behind her shoulder to the man in front of me.

His expression turned casual, casual meaning, hard, icy and without fault.

'I think you are. You've been hired to serve, not seduce. Don't even think the power is used against you, this is your job, you aren't a friend, nor are you an accomplice.' I sighed, not bothering to even look her in her eyes, my sincerity was evident in my tone.

'You heard her, make my martini.' Manuel closed his newspaper for the final time that plane journey, and smiled as she left without question. 

I sighed as I temporarily forgot where I finished reading on my sheets, until Santiano pointed to the extract that seemed to have missed my gaze.

'Thank you.' I nodded and continued to read. Not knowing that I was the main attraction for the rest of that ride. After 25 minutes, Manuel sipped on his martini and Santiano watched as I highlighted, wrote and read. 

***

'What is the noise, coming from there?' Gio asked me, pointing to the room, next to the office where I first confronted all three stranger men.