Mr. Sin: Book One of the Sin Series
Mr. Sin: Chapter 52

My mind keeps wandering as I follow Vincent and his entourage through Marie’s House. I did a walk through yesterday, so I’m not as captivated by this tour as everyone else. Not to say that this place isn’t perfect. Because it’s well on its way. It’s just that this prolonged proximity to Vincent has my brain short circuiting. I know I’m the one responsible for keeping our relationship under wraps. If it were up to Vincent, he’d probably put up a freaking billboard. But I stand by my decision. I’m the one with a job on the line if this gets out.

But being this close, and pretending that we don’t know each other as intimately as we do… It’s killing me. Or at the very least, it’s making me crazy. My dumb brain is suddenly questioning everything. I’m blaming Vincent. He’s a skilled actor; I know he is. He has to be. Ever since we arrived here, his demeanor towards me has been coolly indifferent. He hasn’t touched me. His eyes haven’t lingered on my lips. He hasn’t even addressed me since I introduced him to the journalist, Vanny. And it’s driving me insane.

And I feel even more insane for questioning him, us, since I spent last night in his home. Eating dinner with him and Annie. I know what we have is real. When I’m with the two of them I feel so at home. So calm. I’ve never really considered myself a kid person. Or someone who would like a domineering man-beast. But here I am. Loving every moment I have with them. I feel like maybe I should be alarmed at how easily I’ve integrated our lives, but I’m too happy to worry about it.

I’m just glad it’s not the 90’s anymore, when every phone plan comes with a limited number of minutes. Because the nights that I haven’t spent at Vincent’s house this week, I’ve fallen asleep with him on speaker phone. Sometimes he only talks for a few minutes. Sometimes he climbs into his bed at the same time as me. Sometimes I simply listen to him typing. But it’s working. I feel comfortable in my apartment again. It’s not perfect, but it’s better. I don’t need Eric to sleep outside my door anymore, and with Vincent’s help I was able to convince Eric to use the guest bedroom rather than the couch. Eric might annoy me on occasion, but he’s been a decent roommate.

Laughter breaks out in the crowd around Vincent and I catch myself clenching my fists. I know just about everyone here. They’re all professionals. But I still feel the slimy tendrils of jealousy crawling over my skin.

“You asked for this.” I remind myself on a grumble.

“What was that?” Eric’s voice sounds from right behind me.

“Jesus creeping Christ!” I whisper-shout at him, spinning around and slapping a hand over my heart. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Literally the opposite.” Is his smartass reply.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing pulse. “Where the hell did you come from? I thought you were staying in the lobby.”

“Boss texted me. Asked that I keep a closer eye on you.”

“When?” I ask. We’ve been on this tour for about half an hour and neither Vincent nor myself have left the group.

“About two minutes ago.”

“Huh.” I glance ahead to watch Vincent’s back as he walks on. He must have messaged Eric while he was talking. “Is he worried that Randal might show up here today?”

“No.” Eric replies.

“Then why…” I trail off. There has to be a reason.

Eric’s phone chimes and he holds it up for me to read. Vincent just sent him another text. Stop questioning my men, sweetheart. I have to bite my lip to keep from grinning like a fool.

Another chime. Let me get a look at you, then go to the lobby. Annie and my mom just arrived.

I look up. And lock eyes with Vincent.

He’s maneuvered himself to face the small crowd, and me. He’s still talking, but his eyes are locked on mine. No one seems to notice, but I can feel his gaze down to my bones. His head dips down in a nod. I’m sure he made it seem natural in the conversation, but I know it’s for me. He’s so damn smooth, I want to poke him.

Instead, I wink.

His grin is immediate, and I swear two of the women lean towards him.

I grab Eric’s phone, and reply to Vincent’s last text. If any of those hoochies touch you, she’s losing her manicure.

A second after I hit send, I hear Vincent bark out a laugh. Not wanting to give myself away, I spin on my heel and head towards the lobby.

Vincent has poured money into this project. Even though they only just started, Marie’s House is about half done with the remodel. The building was previously a hotel, in minor disrepair. The rooms are being renovated and combined to create one- and two-bedroom apartments. They’ll house women and families, serving as transitional housing, until a more permanent situation can be arranged. Guests might stay for just a week or for several months. The idea is to be flexible.

Vincent has already secured partnerships to furnish the apartments. There’s also a space on the first floor that will act like a store with clothes, toiletries, and pantry items. All free of cost. A couple nights ago, when I was trying to fall asleep, Vincent told me about the logistical issues the designer is having with the layout of the store. All of the items will be donations, so it’s hard to design permanent shelving when you don’t know what you’ll have week-to-week. But Vincent was adamant that it be set up like a store, not just a service counter. I’m confident that his team is highly motivated to replace a solution.

“Sasha!” Annie calls out, and I spot her waving from across the lobby.

This area is mostly completed. There’s more artwork coming, but one wall is already covered in a mural of the Minneapolis skyline, painted by a local artist. There will be several photos in the article from Vincent’s tour, but the shot that includes Annie will be taken in front of the mural. Vincent insisted that his mother join in the photograph as well. He wanted the three generations of Mazzantis together, presenting a united family image. Not to mention the fact that this facility is named after his mother.

Marie joined us for dinner another night this week and I got to know her a little better. I already knew she was a kind and caring woman, but seeing her light up when she talked about Marie’s House cemented that belief.

“Hey Annie!” I match her wide smile.

“Do you remember?” Annie asks, stopping directly in front of me.

I’m about to ask what she’s talking about when she holds out her closed fist.

I hold mine out as well. “Of course, I do.”

What I don’t admit is that I practiced the moves in the mirror about a dozen times after I got home last night.

“Let’s see.” She’s still smiling, but I see the challenge in her eyes.

I bump my fist to hers. Then my fist goes under hers to tap up. Then I’m on top tapping down. Double bump. Single hand slap. Then we tap the back of our hands together. Double hand slap. Fist bump. Exploding fist bump.

I throw my arms up in celebration, having gotten it right, and Annie tosses her head back laughing.

“Oh my god, you did it!” She nearly shouts at me.

“Duh. Did you think I wouldn’t?” I ask, full of bravado.

She scrunches up her face at me and I dart forward acting like I’m going to snag her hair.

Annie laughs again as she jumps back. “Not the hair!”

I grin. “It looks great. Did your grandma do all those curls for you?”

“Yeah. I can do them myself, but she’s a lot quicker.”

“I love it. And the outfit. You three are gonna look great together.”

Annie is in dark wash jeans and a silky sky-blue blouse that makes her look closer to 16 than 11. She’s stunning. With a glance at Marie, I see she’s in flowy black pants and an ivory top. I don’t even need to see Vincent to be reminded how delicious and down to earth he looks in a pair of jeans and a dark grey sweater. They’re all overdressed for the summer heat outside, but together they’re going to look perfect.

Annie shrugs. “The shirt’s a little fancy. Not sure when I’ll wear it again.”

“Maybe to school?”

“Maybe.”

I step closer, dropping my voice so she knows this conversation is just for us. “I know you’ve talked about this with your dad already, but I just need to ask you one more time. Are you sure you’re ready for this? To have everyone know who you are?”

In a way that causes me far too much pride, Annie straightens her shoulders and raises her head. “Yes.” That single syllable would have been enough to make me believe her, but she continues. “I don’t want to hide who I am. I know why my dad had me use a different name at school. I get it. But I’m not a little kid anymore. And I’m proud of my family. I want people to know I’m a Mazzanti. My friends won’t care who my dad is. And anyone that does can go screw themselves.”

A laugh pops out of me, and I’m grateful, since I was worried her words might’ve had me crying. Which would’ve just embarrassed us both.

Annie grimaces. “Don’t tell Grandma I said that.”

I use my finger to make an X on my chest. “Cross my heart. Speaking of, I think they’ll want to get started on the photoshoot soon.”

Glancing around I look for the second photographer who was supposed to be setting up the lights. I don’t replace the photographer, but I do replace Vincent. Standing a few yards away. He has a serious look on his face and his eyes are bouncing between Annie and myself. Angelo is standing with him, but they don’t appear to be talking. I think Angelo is just there to deter anyone from approaching them.

“Hey, dad.” Annie waves and Vincent’s face morphs into a soft smile.

His long legs cross the distance quickly. “Hi Princess.” Vincent steps up and tugs on one of Annie’s curls. “You look pretty.”

Annie rolls her eyes. “Thanks.”

Leaving his hand on Annie’s shoulder, he turns his attention to me, placing his free hand on the small of my back. “You look pretty, too.”

Resisting the urge to swoon, I mimic Annie and roll my eyes. “Thanks.”

Annie giggles.

“This is cute. You two thinking you can gang up on me.” Vincent says sarcastically, pulling Annie into his side.

She squirms. “We can gang up on you. We’re girls. We can do whatever we want. Right, Sasha?”

Annie’s attitude gives me a jolt of added tenderness towards the girl. She’ll need that. “You’re goddamn right we can.”

Vincent grins and I can feel his thumb trailing circles on my spine. “Glad my daughter has yet another strong-willed woman to show her how to survive in this world.”

“You’re goddamn right.” Annie replies.

Another laugh bursts out of me and I slap a hand over my mouth. Sometimes I forget how young she is and that maybe I shouldn’t be swearing in front of her. Vincent seems to be amused, so I’m not going to stress over it.

“Um, sir?” A female voice interrupts us.

We all look up to replace one of the women from the PR team a few feet away.

“Yes.” Vincent slips seamlessly into his no-nonsense work voice.

“The photographers are ready for you and your family.” The woman, Amanda, keeps darting quick glances to me. I’m not pressed into Vincent’s side, which is good, but that means she can see his arm extended out behind me. And even though it’s blocked by my body, I’m sure she can guess that his hand is on my back.

Schooling my features, I make sure not to move. Stepping away would signal guilt. And moving closer to him would make me look like a possessive bitch. So I just blink and turn my attention to Annie.

“You ready?” I ask her.

“Yeah.” Her smile is a little dimmer, but she’s putting on a brave front. “You wanna come say hi to my grandma before we start?”

I’m not sure how quickly they want them lined up, but I’ll take any opportunity to get out of this awkward moment.

I extend my hand to Annie. “Sure.” She’s far too old to need to hold hands while walking across a room, but she takes it anyways.

I can feel Amanda’s eyes burning into me as we step away.

Annie gives my hand a little tug. “We don’t need to actually talk to grandma. I just figured you wanted to get away from that lady.”

“Oh, um, Amanda is a nice person.”

Annie huffs. “Sure she is. But you don’t want her knowing about you and Dad, right?”

“Um…” Fuck. How am I supposed to handle this? I pull Annie to a stop and crouch down so we can talk in a whisper. “You’re right. I don’t want your dad’s employees to know that…” I pause.

“You guys are dating.” She supplies.

I exhale, time to just be truthful. “Exactly. It’s not that I’m embarrassed about it. Or that I want to hide how much I adore spending time with you both. It’s just that I have to work with all of these people, and…” I almost say sleeping with the boss “dating the boss will make the rest of them treat me differently.”

Annie nods. “I understand. They might think that dad would play favorites or something.”

“Exactly.” I say with a smile.

“Are you guys going to always keep it a secret?”

My heart aches a little at how she uses the word always so easily. Like Vincent and I will just always be together.

I shake my head. “No. Not always. Do you know that I work for a different company?”

“What do you mean?” Annie asks.

“I work at Minnesota Relations and my job is to help companies, like your dad’s, when they need it. I’m a Public Relations Consultant which means I came to work with Mazzanti Enterprises to help with stuff like this.” I gesture around the room. “And after the gala next week my assignment will be done.”

Annie’s face drops. “So you’re leaving?”

“No. Not at all. I live here, remember?” She nods. “But once my assignment with Mazzanti Enterprises is over with, I won’t have to work with your dad’s employees anymore. Then we can be open about our relationship.”

Annie seems to mull over my words for a moment. “Are you not supposed to be dating?”

It’s my turn to consider her question. I know the answer. I want to lie, but why start now.

“Well, not exactly.”

Annie grins. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

Now I feel like an asshole. “I don’t want you to lie for me. Lying isn’t good.”

This earns me a classic Annie eye roll. “Ugh, whatever. It’s stupid that you have to pretend like you don’t like each other. It’s not like you’re really doing anything bad. It’s other people that are being dumb if they can’t just deal with it. I won’t feel bad about lying. Plus, I’m just a kid. What do I know?” She bats her lashes at me.

“Oh my god!” I laugh. “You’re devious.”

Annie grins. “Duh.”

Rising, I give her shoulder a shove. “Come on, you sneaky girl, let’s get your photo taken.”

Annie doesn’t resist and we walk side by side over to where her grandmother is talking to the photographer. I greet Marie with a smile and a wave, not wanting to interrupt their conversation.

“Have fun.” I whisper to Annie, and she replies with a bored look.

I don’t think anyone can make me smile quite as much as that girl can. She’s so smart, and funny, and far more perceptive than people give her credit for. Remembering her snarky thoughts about interoffice romance has my smile growing even larger as I step away.

Figuring I’ll replace a wall to plant myself against, I turn towards the back of the room and spot Cheryl, my boss.

She’s facing my direction, talking to Amanda. Shit. Is Amanda telling her how close Vincent and I were? Amanda was one of the women on the tour fanning herself over every word that came out of Vincent’s mouth. I don’t know her well enough to know if she’d rat me out. And I don’t know how long Cheryl’s been here. Did she see Vincent and I together? Did she watch me with Annie just now? Were we being overly familiar? I think back to the intricate fist bump greeting that Annie and I shared, and cringe.

Cheryl’s still speaking to Amanda, but her gaze replaces mine. When her cheeks tip up into a smile, I force my body to unfreeze. A smile is a good sign. Right? Fuck it, it doesn’t matter. I can’t avoid her.

When I get a few paces away, Cheryl raises a hand in welcome. “Sasha, how’s the day been?”

“Hi Cheryl. It’s going well!” Stopping, I create a triangle between the three of us and give Amanda a nod in greeting. “Yourself?”

Cheryl waves away my question. “Good, good. Sounds like you have everything under control here.”

Amanda makes a small sound in her throat, and it takes all my willpower to stop myself from shooting her a glare. She was never my favorite person on the team. Now I know why. Because she’s a bitch.

I keep my focus on Cheryl. “Thanks. The team did a lot of work on this.” There, I threw stupid Amanda a bone. “When Vanny told me that she wanted to bring a second photographer, we went with it.” I gesture over to where the trio of Mazzantis were being arranged in front of the mural. “I’m sure they’ll take a variety of shots, but it should wrap up quickly. I know Vin- Mr. Mazzanti has another meeting this afternoon that he needs to get to.”

I will my face not to flush. I don’t know if calling him Vincent is okay or not, but correcting myself did nothing but call attention to my mistake.

Cheryl makes a noncommittal humming sound before addressing Amanda. “Amanda dear, would you mind replaceing the journalist and sending her my way? I’d like a moment before she heads out.”

“Sure can!” Amanda beams at Cheryl, sliding me a side eye before prancing away.

I remind myself that slapping a co-worker is a bad idea. Vincent’s words come to my mind; I’ll tell them to be nice to you. My inner self scoffs, if only it were that easy.

“So…” Cheryl drags out the word, and I feel my stomach drop to my feet. “That Annie is quite the little girl, don’t you think?”

I feel like this is a trap and I have to swallow before replying. “She sure is. If the family business is what she wants to do, I’ve no doubt she’ll be able to run it with her eyes closed.”

Cheryl’s eyes remain on me. “She seemed pretty comfortable talking to you. I take it you’ve met before this.”

“Yeah. We’ve met a few times. She’s really easy to get along with.” Not a lie.

“And Vincent?”

I don’t presume that her use of his first name is a mistake. “Uh, he’s also easy to get along with.”

I wish a shovel into existence so I can dig myself a hole to die in.

“Miss Clark.” Eric’s voice breaks into the building awkwardness.

I nearly sigh in relief as I turn towards the approaching man. “Eric, this is Cheryl Morris, owner of Minnesota Relations, and my boss. Cheryl, this is Eric.”

Ever the businesswoman, Cheryl extends her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Eric.”

“Likewise, ma’am.” His face is as serious as always. “Sorry to intrude, but can I borrow Miss Clark for a few moments?”

Eric looks exactly like the bodyguard that he is. What possible issue I could help him with, I have no idea. But I’ll take whatever escape I can at this point.

I don’t wait for Cheryl’s approval. “Of course, Eric.” I give Cheryl a smile as I step away. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

Her eyes narrow, ever so slightly. “Alright. Take care, Sasha.”

Pretending that sendoff wasn’t ominous, I turn and match my stride to Eric’s.

We make it out of the lobby and halfway down the main hall before I feel like I can breathe again. “So, what do you need me for?”

Eric glances at me. “Nothing.”

My steps slow. “Nothing?”

“Nothing. As in the absence of something.”

I groan. “Thanks for the English lesson. But really, you don’t need something?”

He slows before turning into a fully furnished lounge. “Boss texted me, told me to rescue you from the lady you were talking to. So that’s what I did.”

“He… What?” The question is rhetorical. I heard what he said. I drop into the nearest armchair. “Is there anything he doesn’t see?”

“Wouldn’t count on it, ma’am.”

Maybe it’s the ma’am. Maybe it’s the overbearing nature of my new boyfriend. Maybe it’s the close call with my boss. Whatever the straw, it snaps. My laugh is so sudden and loud that Eric startles. Which just makes me laugh harder. I can’t stop. I bury my face in my hands, bent over with my elbows on my knees, laughing my ass off.

This is my life now. I have a millionaire, possibly billionaire, boyfriend… whose privileged position leaves him delusional about everyday life for us normal people. Who uses his influence to get whatever he wants, whenever he wants, however he wants. He doesn’t put up with any bullshit. He doesn’t tolerate mediocrity. His nickname for years has been Mr. Sin. And – true or not – he has a playboy reputation. He’s fiercely protective of anything he deems his. And, somehow, he’s put me into that category. He fucks me with an animalistic fervor. He loves his family with a tenderness that still shocks me. And he always replaces a way to make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

My laughter slows as my thoughts really sink in.

I’m fully, completely, entirely, head over heels, soul-be-damned, in love with Vincent Mazzanti.

Shit.

I exhale a deep breath, keeping my face in my hands. I knew this was happening. I knew I was falling for him. And yet it still feels like a revelation. Like a surprise.

I won’t tell him. Not yet. That’s not how these things work. This is the sort of thing you play close to the vest. The sort of feeling you let out in small doses. Small hints until you’re certain the other person will return the words.

I know Vincent cares about me, but I don’t know if he’s ready for love. If I’m being honest, knowing his history, he might never be ready. The thought doesn’t hurt as much as I expected it to. There’s no rush. We have all the time in the world.

I hear footsteps a second before I hear Angelo’s gravelly voice. “Did you break her? Vincent’s not gonna like that.”

Eric doesn’t reply, and I imagine him shrugging his shoulders and looking at me like I’m crazy.

Wiping my fingers under my eyes, I sit up. “Not broken.”

Angelo gives me a once over. “If you say so.” He claims a seat on the open couch across from me. “They’re about done out there. Vin said he’d meet us here.”

“Oh, if everyone is leaving, I should go back out there.” I say, making no move to actually get up.

“Negative.” Angelo smirks. “I stuck Vin’s mama on your boss. She’ll ask her to walk her out to her car and probably spend the whole time talking about how brilliant you are.” When I don’t reply, he raises his eyebrows. “You’re welcome.”

“But what if…”

He cuts me off. I wasn’t sure a mountain could eye roll, but Angelo executes one like he was taught by Annie herself. “Marie knows to keep the relationship under wraps.”

“Huh, alright. Thank you, Angelo.” I concede.

A hand lands on the back of my neck. “That’s why all the girls called him Angel when we were kids.”

Vincent. His scent flows over me a second before he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“Fuck off, Vinny. It wasn’t angel they called me. It was God. As in oh god you’re so good.”

“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that.” Vincent says, while sitting on the armrest of my chair. He tips his face down to look at me. “Hi, sweetheart. How’s your day going?”

“No complaints.”

“Good.” Vincent gives my neck a gentle squeeze then glances at the guys. “Can you give us a moment?”

Angelo and Eric leave without protest, shutting the door behind them.

Vincent reaches his free hand out, using his thumb to trace my jaw. “So damn pretty.” His words are so quiet, it’s like he didn’t mean to say them out loud.

His thumb stops at my chin, holding my face still as he bends forward and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is soft and sweet and over far too quickly.

“I have to go.”

I don’t remember closing my eyes, but they slip back open. “Go?”

Vincent rests his forehead against mine. “Yeah,’ he sighs out the word. “The building I’m buying in New York needs some in-person attention.”

I remember him reading to me about this purchase one night when I was falling asleep.

“Okay. For how long?” I ask.

“Not sure. A few days at least.”

“When do you leave?”

“Now.”

The sense of tremendous loss floods me. It’s an overreaction. And embarrassing. And I feel like I might cry.

He’s not leaving me, I remind myself, he’s just leaving town.

Vincent stands and pulls me up into a hug.

“I know, baby. I don’t want me to go either.” His fingers trail down my back. “Promise you’ll call me every night, so I can talk you to sleep?”

“Promise.” I whisper.