Androletti's Mistress. Melanie Milburne
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allow me some measure of decency. In case you have forgotten, I have just buried my husband.’
‘Good, for I will not tolerate you entertaining any of your lovers in my house.’
She straightened her spine and glared at him. ‘Anything else?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I expect you to be polite at all times to the young woman who will be replacing you as the face of Ferliani Fashions—Abriana Cavello. She may on occasion come to the house. I will try to keep such visits to a minimum, but if she should be here, I will expect you to treat her just like any other guest.’
Nikki felt her anger towards him skyrocket. She knew how this was going to work; she could feel it in her bones. No doubt this Cavello woman had slept with him to gain his favour and was now going to flounce around the house, acting like a prima donna just to needle her into breaking one of his stupid rules.
‘That shouldn’t be a problem,’ she said, grinding her teeth. ‘I am sure we will get along just fine.’
‘That will be all for now,’ he said, turning away to leaf through some papers he’d picked up from the hall table. ‘I will be in my study when you have finished looking over the house.’
‘And then?’
He put the papers to one side and met her arched-brow look. ‘And then, Nikki, we will have dinner together.’
‘Dinner?’
He smiled wryly at her anxious expression. ‘Do not worry. I do not expect you to cook tonight. We will go out this evening.’
‘Thank you for being so considerate,’ she said with heavy sarcasm. ‘But if it’s all the same to you, I would prefer to go straight home.’
His black-diamond stare clashed with hers. ‘You no longer have a home, and if I say we will have dinner together then that is what we will do, do you understand?’
Nikki felt like she was standing in front of a stranger. Gone was the gentle and loving Massimo Androletti of five years ago, and in his place was a hard, cold, determined man intent on exacting every gram of revenge he could.
She hated having to bow to his command, but there was nothing else she could do short of telling him about her reasons for marrying his stepfather. But it wasn’t just her pride that wouldn’t allow her to do it. If she told him who she really was—the daughter of a man who had committed the most heinous of crimes—how could she be sure it wouldn’t be all over the papers within hours? Massimo was after revenge, and what better revenge could he have than to bring her past to light?
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