The Perfect Sin

24

𝗥 𝗘 𝗡 𝗭 𝗢

My temper is on such a short fucking fuse. It takes almost nothing to get me in a mood and right now, just looking at Emmett Ambrose is really testing my patience.  

I'm already in a foul mood because of what happened in my office with Lula earlier. To be honest, I don't really know what happened, but when she touched me in an attempt to push me back from her, it caused me to feel unsettled.

Something happened back there, what it was, I'm still unsure of but I didn't like it. This girl is fucking with my head and I'm starting to believe that her presence is seriously clouding my judgement.

I can't think properly anymore and I'm starting to act irrationally. Take the day I shoved Davide into the wall and threatened to kill him for what he did to Lula.

Why did I even fucking care so much? She is my captive for god sake. Whatever happens to her shouldn't faze me in the slightest.

Fuck. This whole situation is just stressing me out.

"So," Emmett begins, his British accent already pissing me off. "Are we good to begin or are we still waiting for your tag-along?"

I narrow my eyes, casting him a strong glare. "My consigliere will be here any minute."

Who does this man think he is? This is my fucking house. If I want to take my precious time with this meeting then so be it.

I could end him so quickly, he wouldn't even know it was coming.

The sound of the door opening allows me to temporarily rid those thoughts from my head as I glance to the side to see Sal finally entering the room.

I throw him a where the fuck have you been look and he simply shrugs a shoulder in response, making his way towards me.

Taking a seat in the large chair beside mine, I look back over at Emmett as he watches us closely from across the table. One of his men says something in his ear and and Emmett nods his head slowly, his eyes remaining on mine.

Emmett Ambrose is well known in my world. He conducts business and means business. The majority of the events I attend are funded by him. He's a wealthy man but all of his money is nothing but dirty cash.

He likes to think that I try to remain on his good side but in reality it's him who treads on fucking egg shells every time he's around me.

Emmett is nothing but a cocky, arrogant asshole who claims he owns the streets of New York.

Fuck, that sounds a lot like me. I'm giving myself a complex here.

"Chi è la donna in casa?" Sal asks quietly.
[translation: who is the woman in the house?]

I don't have to think hard to know he's referring to Lula. "Il mio fotografo." I tell him with a hint of humour in my voice.
[translation: my photographer]

He presses his lips together, clearly unsatisfied by my response. "Non mi piace questo."
[translation: I do not like this]

"È sotto controllo." I assure him. "Relax."
[translation: it's under control]

He places the brief case on the floor and sits back in his seat, uncertainty evident on his face. Sal knows not to push me too much, but often tries his luck with it.