Mr. Sin: Chapter 11
Dead. I’m actually fucking dead.
I can literally feel the color leave my cheeks as the blood drains from my face.
It can’t be true. Vincent. The Devil. Is Mr. Sin.
My shoulders curl down, my body trying to hide in some misguided attempt of self-preservation. I almost laugh. Or cry. It’s a bit late to protect myself now. Vincent, the man who’s been inside of me three times, the man who made me feel rejected and small only yesterday, is now my client. And not just my client but the client. He runs the whole damn company!
Suddenly, embarrassment floods through me and my face flashes from pale to pink. Vincent is a freaking millionaire. He’s wealthy beyond my imagination. He’s stunningly handsome. He’s smart. He’s witty. He’s every woman’s fantasy, and clearly a player. And I’m the stupid foolish girl who invited him to bed. Of course, he’s done with me. He probably remembered who he was, and who I was, halfway through our desk-fuck yesterday… and that’s why he closed down. He was probably disgusted with himself for slumming it and wanted the deed over as quickly as possible.
If this wasn’t arguably the most important assignment of my career, I’d run from this conference room and never look back.
I hadn’t noticed all the murmurs throughout the room, but Vincent’s voice cuts them off. “Mazzanti Enterprises is my legacy. My father, Stefano, brought me into this business when I was still a little boy. I learned a lot from him in the short time that we had together and did my best to take on his morals as my own. Upon his death, a trust oversaw the day-to-day business needs. But when I turned 21, I regained majority control. That was a few years ago.” He smirks and the crowd laughs.
I can’t laugh though. Not at his self-deprecating jokes. Not at the cute grin pulling at his lips. Not at any of this.
Vincent isn’t just a part of the family. He is the family. He’s the heir. The son of a famous gangster. Born into this life of wealth and extravagance.
“In all seriousness, I can only take a small fraction of the credit for the success of Mazzanti Enterprises. The team up here with me are the real brains of the business. They’re all heads of various departments and without them the whole circus would fall apart.” Vincent gestures to the people who walked in with him. “My philosophy is to put the right people in charge of the right projects, empower them, and help them in any way that I can. Our people, all of you in this room, are our real assets.”
I glance around to find huge smiles surrounding me. Cheryl was right, an attractive face makes anything believable.
“So why now? Why am I coming out of the shadows, so to speak? The short answer: it’s time. I was able to accomplish a lot by staying out of the spotlight. Over the past 21 years, I’ve worked hard with each and every department to make sure that we were the company that we wanted to be. This building that we’re in now is the new symbol of Mazzanti Enterprises. We’re a company to be proud of. A company that demands respect. A company that will move forward into the next era with no skeletons in the closet. With no secrets. The purpose of me coming forward is not to put the attention onto me, but rather to take the mystery away. Once it’s out there. Once everyone’s had a chance to see my ugly mug,” he pauses for more laughter, “then the mystery will fade, and the focus can move to where it should have been the whole time. Our people and what we do.”
My mind is still reeling too much to focus on his words. I can’t stop kicking myself for not putting it together on my own. I mean look at him. He is Mr. Sin. He’s the perfect stereotype that Jessica was hoping for. He’s sexy as hell. He’s dark. He has the look of a predator.
The very first moment I saw him, he had a man violently pinned to a bar top. And then he made a joke about having that man’s arms broken.
Oh god, it wasn’t a joke.
A small gasp escapes my lips.
Vincent’s eyes cut over and meet mine. He’s still talking, but his eyes are focused just on me. Those damn black eyes. I thought they were so captivating before, but now they feel dangerous. The heat of them now is too much. This is the first time he’s looked at me since his cock slid out of me last night. That memory wipes some of my shock away. You can dress him up in a suit and give him a fancy job, but he’s still just an asshole.
My jaw clenches and his lips pull up into the smallest of smiles. It’s so infuriating that my hands curl into fists. I want to hit him.
When Vincent looks away, I finally tune back into what he’s saying.
“It’s my pleasure to announce that this morning I signed the papers finalizing the purchase of Marie’s House. Or what will be Marie’s House. The building was an old hotel that we’ll renovate into transitional housing for women and families. My mother Marie has always wanted to give back in this way. Now seems like the perfect time. We have the means, and as of a few hours ago, we have the place.”
People are looking around as quiet voices fill the room. Apparently, this is a surprise to everyone. My recently acquired loathing for Vincent makes me want to hate everything he says, but this is actually a commendable idea. And it pisses me off.
“I know this is going to be a large undertaking, but we already have a build team put together. We plan to have the remodel breaking ground within the week. Not only is this for a great cause, but it will help to pull attention away from me and put it back where it belongs. To that end, I’d like to introduce Minnesota Relations.”
Vincent gestures in our direction. I know the attention will be on Cheryl, but my mouth still goes dry.
“Cheryl Morris is the owner of Minnesota Relations. They’re a Public Relations consultancy firm and will be assisting our in-house team during this transition period. Cheryl’s company comes highly recommended, and we’re lucky to have them during this process. They also happen to have a staff made up entirely of women, so they’ll be a great addition to the team launching Marie’s House.” Vincent’s smile seems innocent as he looks our way, but I know better. “It’s lovely to meet you ladies.”
I think I might faint. Like really faint. Like fall out of my chair, collapse on the floor, wish I were dead for real, faint.
I feel flustered. And used. And furious.
He knows details about the company. My company! He knows Cheryl’s name. How long has he known about our involvement? How long has he known about me?
Vincent continues. “There’s a lot to go through, so to save time I’ll work directly with the lead consultant. Sasha, is it?” His eyes land on mine and stay there.
Is he fucking with me?
I open my mouth, but don’t trust that my words will come out steady. Or that they’ll come out as anything other than a string of curses. So, I simply nod.
“Very well. I’ll have my assistant, Brent, get in touch with you.”
I nod again.
Vincent’s gaze leaves me as he continues to address the room.
I can’t listen anymore. I can barely breathe. What have I gotten myself into?