Mr. Vincenzo | 18+

twenty-one

e l o i s e

I should have walked out. But once you think about going to the washroom, it was like you had to, right?

My plan was straight. Do my business and pretend I didn't know just who exactly Eveline Rodriguez was.

"He agreed on giving on a hundred and twenty, Grace. Just like that." A snap of fingers was heard, then the pretty voice who I assumed to be of Eveline Rodriguez continued again. "Like it was nothing. No one would do that unless they are drowning in more dollars than they can ever spend."

A tap ran outside. "It's a good deal, take it I say. Many people work a year for less than half of it."

"I know right. It's what got me thinking."

"What are you planning then?"

"What's miniscule credit in front of the entire bank?"

The other woman, Grace, laughed. "I know men like that, Eve. Their stomach will fuck you more than their cock ever will."

"I can always get that outside but a Black Card? You can even buy even better sex with that."

"You can't be sure. What if he's loaning anything and everything thinking he'd inherit all from his parents?"

I pulled my jeans up and pressed flush. I wouldn't want to seem suspicious. When the noise drowned out, I could hear Eveline Rodriguez again. "...and a Gucci bag I'd wanted for so long was just tossed aside in that brat's apartment like it cost no more than her daily coffee. Trust me when I say, even if it's all his parents, it's not a loan."

I stepped outside. I received no more than a glance like earlier as I went over to the washbasin. I was having a bad feeling. I could almost exactly tell just who she was talking about. Maybe I was overthinking—

"Even if it's all true, there's no way Vincenzo Rodriguez is ever letting you in."

I wasn't. My gut twisted at the way she talked about Vincenzo, like he had no worth more than what he earned or inherited. Like he had no worth as a person. My teeth clenched, my enraged eyes meeting Eveline Rodriguez's through the mirror. She raised a brow, as perfectly shaped as the rest of her. I looked down at my foam-covered hands and pretended to focus on washing them. They trembled, from anger or fear I didn't know.

But the scale tipped. I felt my throat suddenly choke up. She didn't know. She didn't know Vincenzo was still waiting for her.

"But that brat will," she spoke again to Grace, and it was no doubt who was that brat in question. "She was raised by Vincenzo. Of course she's going to be a fool."

"We know he isn't married but what if he has a girlfriend?"

"Only a fool raises a fool. That brat will break them up."

My breath came out shallow. I held my shaky hands under the dryer. I knew we had little time together but this less? Wasn't it supposed to be, if not anything, but just a little more? I had seen Eveline Rodriguez in more than photos now and age had barely affected her beauty. All she had to do was waltz into his life and, despite how we were now, friendly or affectionate, Vincenzo would politely tell me exactly who I was.

It was what we agreed on but I wasn't ready for him to tell me we were over, that the attraction between us was merely fickle, perhaps a replacement of the original.

I wasn't ready and I didn't think I could be.

But she was more delusional than me. Why would Aryanna even help her to break up Vincenzo and his 'girlfriend' for whom she already planning a wedding?