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Amedeo, Her Italian Billionaire(11)



That was not Amedeo.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” the woman said. Then she shrieked. “Put down that knife.”

The woman turned off the water, then wrapped herself in a towel. Violet got a glimpse of the most perfect body she’d ever seen. Down to the nicely shaved pubic hair. Shaped like a heart. Holy shit. Was that a white girl thing to do? She’d never seen that on anyone.

“Who are you?” Violet demanded.

“Who the Hell are you and what are you doing in Amedeo’s house?”

“I’m Violet and I live here.”

The woman gave her the once over. “You the maid?”

Oh, now she really wanted to stab this perfect blonde bitch. “No, I live here. With Amedeo. Who are you? Before I call the cops.”

She didn’t need to know that they slept in separate rooms. Or that he’d taken her in because she was pregnant with his child. None of that mattered right now.

“I’m Victoria Sheffield.”

She said her name as if everyone would know who she was. Like Cher or Madonna. “Okay. Who the hell is Victoria Sheffield?”

She brought herself up to her full height, making Violet hate her even more. She was tall and leggy. “I’m Amedeo’s fiancé.”

“Fiancé? “He never mentioned you.” Violet glanced at the woman’s left hand. No ring. “Where’s you’re engagement ring?”

This flustered the woman. She looked at her hand, then up to Violet. “I don’t wear it in the shower.”

“Then where is it?”

“I, uh, don’t have it. I gave it back to Amedeo and now I’m here to make it up to him.”

“I don’t think so. I’m calling the cops.”

“Call Amedeo. I was here to surprise him,” she said. “He’ll vouch for me.”

Without taking her eyes off of Victoria, Violet dialed Amedeo’s number on the house phone. It went to voice mail. “He’s not answering. I guess you can talk to the cops. I’ll bet they’ll be here in ten minutes. You might want to get dressed or they’ll get an eyeful.”

“Will you please leave?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know who you are and I’m not turning my back on you. We’ve got the same parts, so it doesn’t matter if I see you.”

Victoria frowned then dropped the towel. Creamy white skin. She had it. The house phone rang. Violet picked it up.

“Violet? Is something wrong? I couldn’t get to my phone.”

“You have an intruder.”

“Did you call the cops? Are you out of the house?”

“No and no. The intruder says she’s your fiancé.”

“Tory?”

“It’s me, Amedeo,” the woman yelled as she wrapped herself in her coat. Guess she hadn’t worn any clothing underneath it.

“Put Tory on the phone, Violet.”

She handed the naked intruder the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

Tory did a lot of listening and nodded. Then she handed the phone back to Violet. “Amedeo?”

“She’s my ex fiancé. She dumped me weeks ago. It was why I went out and picked you up. Don’t call the cops, but make sure you take the key to my house from her. I don’t want to have to change the locks.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll talk about her when I get home.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Amedeo.”

“Yes, I feel I do.”

She hung up with him, feeling warm that he wanted her to know what was going on. Not that they were in a relationship, but it was nice. Victoria gave up her key after Violet escorted her to the front door. She’d never seen a woman so crestfallen in her life.





Chapter3



Amedeo sat back in his chair, pondering why Tory would have come into his house. Was she waiting for him? She should know that he wouldn’t have been home for hours. What had Tory been thinking? She’d dumped him. He’d moved on. With the help of the baby that was coming in some number of months. He really didn’t know how far along Violet was.

He’d have to ask her tonight. Had she been to the doctor? She needed to get prenatal care. This was part of what he was providing. He’d pay the doctor bills. No worries. He wondered if he could put her on his insurance as a dependent.

Hm. He’d have to see about that. Either way, the bills would be paid.

See. He’d already forgotten about Tory. That didn’t take much. She’d broken his heart and he was now keeping it close to him. He wasn’t giving it away that easily this time.

His phone rang. Shit. Tory. Should he answer it? If he didn’t, she’d call back. She was that way.