Page 43 of Secret Seduction

She’s not my fucking business.

But I want her to be.

And that thought is what has me letting go of the guy and stalking out of the casino and hotel and as far away from Vanessa as possible.

15

Vanessa

The nerve of Lorenzo.

To show up at the casino and act like some jealous husband when the man doesn’t even want to be married to me. Has he lost his mind?

The rest of my shift thankfully goes smoothly. And when it’s time to cash out, I’m shocked by the amount in tips I’ve earned tonight. It’s quadruple what I earned at the pub.

“Rich men tip good,” Lyra, another bartender who worked alongside me all night, says as we walk out of the casino. “And if you get lucky, you can get one to be your sugar daddy.” She waggles her brows. “You should see the Porsche one guy bought me. They have too much money and no idea what to do with it.”

I force out a laugh, not wanting to make waves with someone I’ll most likely be working with often, but the thought of using a man for his money brings back horrible memories of my mom leaving the casino with a new man and forcing me to take care of myself.

“You don’t belong here.”

I tried to pretend like Lorenzo’s words didn’t affect me, but the truth is, they hit their mark. My entire goal in life was to make sure I didn’t end up like my mother, yet here I am, married to a man I’m using to keep me safe and working at a casino for tips that come from rich men who are visualizing all the ways they would fuck me if given the chance.

Sal—the guard Dominick has taking me to and from work—is waiting by the casino exit. When he spots me, he nods once and then escorts me out. The ride home is quiet, giving me too much time to think, and when I step out of the car and the wind hits my barely covered flesh, I find myself wishing I’d brought a jacket. At least it would hide who I’ve become.

I step inside, and the condo is quiet.

Not that I expected Lorenzo to wait up for me.

He’d left pissed as hell. Even though I have no idea why.

On my way to my room, I stop at Leo’s room and peek in to check on him. He’s not my responsibility, but I can’t help but care about him. With one toothy smile, he wrapped himself around my heart.

He’s asleep on his back with his arms and legs spread out like the cutest little starfish. At some point, he kicked his blanket off him, so I tiptoe inside and lay it across his bottom half, tucking it under him, knowing he hates when his feet aren’t covered. And then I lean over and give him a soft kiss on his forehead, inhaling his sweet baby scent.

Every night since Lorenzo was hurt, I’ve given Leo a bath. Even after Lorenzo hired that horrid nanny, I still gave him his baths because Lorenzo’s shoulder wasn’t one hundred percent. But tonight, because I was at work, I didn’t get to do it.

Did he wonder where I was?

Why I wasn’t there to play fishies with him?

Did Lorenzo fill the tub with the bubbles he loves?

My thoughts have me taking a step back.

I’m getting too attached, and that can’t happen. Leo isn’t my son, and Lorenzo isn’t my real husband. And this isn’t my life.

“You’re home.”

I lift my head to look at Lorenzo, taken aback by his word choice.

Home.

The truth is, I don’t think I’ve ever had a home.

And the thought is both sobering and depressing.

Lorenzo’s leaning against the door, dressed in his usual T-shirt and basketball shorts. His hair is messy from sleep, and he’s looking at me like he’s torn between telling me off and devouring me.