Her Innocent's Reckoning

By Teffeteller Myart

Leah Burtonelli is doing well in life. She's good at her job, massively successful, and is engaged to her longterm boyfriend, who is accepted by her family and is also a close business partner to her family's empire, Burtonelli Casinos. She's focused on making more money, having fun...and ignoring her past traumas.

Benvolio Trentini is only trying to get his brother out of debt, but when he meets Leah, he knows that his life will never be the same.

Can Ben help Leah confront her demons, or will Leah be unable to save either of them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781684740239

Book preview

Her Innocent’s

Reckoning

Burtonelli Siblings Trilogy

Book 1

by Teffeteller Myart

Copyrighted Material

Her Innocent’s Reckoning

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks used, products named or featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference.

Copyright Teffeteller Myart 2020

All Rights Reserved

978-1-68474-023-9

Cover image by ANKBOOKDESIGNS on Etsy

Other books in the Burtonelli Siblings Trilogy:

The Family Affair

The Noble Assassin

Other books by Teffeteller Myart:

The Winter Suites Series:

Lipstick and Heartbreak (Winter Suites Vol. 1)

What Happened in Reno (Winter Suites Vol. 2)

Spicy Workplace Romance Novellas:

The Dirt Bike Rivals: Jenny’s Story

The Dirt Bike Rivals: Maggie’s Story

The Dirt Bike Rivals: Misty’s Story

Chapter One

    She could feel his eyes on her from across the room. She didn’t have to look over at him to know that it was him who was looking at her, taking her in, seeing whatever it was that she had to offer.

    Eyes were always sizing her up at soirées such as the one at which she found herself that evening, whether she was in it or not, and that was simply the way that it was, and the way that it had always been.

    Leah Burtonelli was privy to all of the secrets and lies hidden behind the opulence and appearances of the parties. She was more than aware of what her role was, too, though, and that particular night, she wasn’t in the mood to remind any of her Family’s friends or business associates what her role entailed, and what was beneath her.

    Are you prepared for the backlash your brother has brought upon your family? Clive Sinclair—one of her father’s closest partners outside the Family—asked her.

    Any other time Leah would have given Clive just the answer he was looking for, to soothe his doubts and his ego. It was her duty, and her role in the Family was not one that she took lightly.

    But she was an expert on knowing things, subtle things that most people—especially those with an upbringing less volatile and unstable than hers—wouldn’t have given a second thought. To Leah, though, not trusting her intuition was a liability, and certainly not one that she was willing to risk.

    She cleared her throat, putting her hand on Clive’s arm, feeling his well-muscled forearm through his suit.

    I’m sure that we’re more than equipped to deal with the repercussions of Marcell’s actions. It’s unfortunate, his lack in judgment. Her smile straightened, though, as she said, I don’t make the mistakes of my brother. Of that much, I can assure you.

    Good to know, Leah. But I’m not feeling particularly reassured at the moment.

    That’s understandable.

    She wanted to end the conversation. Desperately. Clive only needed to be placated and he was no longer an issue...but the longer Leah waited to seek out whatever it was that her intuition was warning her about, the more likely the threat was to slip past her, her judgment, and her ability to do anything about it.

    I want proof.

    She glanced back at him. Proof of what?

    Proof that Marcell has learned his lesson.

    Refusing to be intimidated, Leah replied, I can handle my Family, Clive. Rest assured of that.

    I don’t doubt that you can...but can you handle your family, Leah?

    She took her hand off his arm and backed a step away, subtly.

    Because if you can’t, someone else will.

    There’s no need to threaten me.

    I go by evidence, not promises.

    You’re a wise man, Clive.

    She smiled again, but it was a colder smile that she offered the slightly older man, and his returning smile was a predatory one.

    He should have known better, Leah thought, as she turned away from him.

    The fact that she believed that Clive did know better, yet he still chose to act as though he could push her around, was what Leah felt was unsettling behavior, coming from him.

    Most people would have been afraid to threaten her family, and especially to have threatened her. Clive was either brave or foolish, and she wasn’t sure which was worse, in her case.

    But Leah had other matters to attend to.

    She plucked a flute of champagne from a tray as a server passed her, and she kept her eyes focused straight ahead as the crowd parted before her, no bodies brushing against hers, or even coming close.

    At 181 centimeters, Leah was difficult to miss in a crowd, but she knew that wasn’t the reason why she was seemingly treated as a social pariah. It was because the people in attendance at the party knew who was giving it, and knew who Leah was, and they didn’t want to cross her.

    Halfway across the room, she felt that same feeling again, of being watched. Oddly enough, it wasn’t an intrusive feeling, but the eyes that Leah felt on her brought out a different feeling in her...one that she wasn’t entirely familiar with, but then again, something that felt more primal, like it wasn’t something that she, herself, had necessarily experienced, but something that she should have known, instinctively.

    Primitively.

    She swallowed as she felt her face get hot, although her olive skin didn’t blush. The heat spread from her face, down her body, and she somehow felt more feminine, more desirable.

    She stopped in place and allowed her eyes to scan the room, so attuned to the feeling radiating through her body that she knew she could scan the room and find the culprit.

    Her eyes found a less-populated corner of the party room.

    And her culprit.

    She watched the man’s throat constrict as her eyes fell on him, and she instinctively enjoyed his obvious discomfort at being recognized by her, so it was clear that he knew who she was.

    That much told her that she knew who he was, as well...the only thing that she couldn’t explain was that he’d made her feel sexy, for lack of a better word, and not like he was her prey, as he should have been.

    Leah straightened her shoulders, then she kept her eyes locked on his as she closed the distance between them, all the while watching his green eyes go from resigned to shocked, until she stopped in front of him.

    You’re Benvolio Trentini.

    His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, then said, Yes.

    She kept her eyes on him as she angled her body toward his, but folded her body into the seat beside his.

    She felt her face flood with heat again, as he didn’t take his eyes from hers, either.

    She rested her hands on her crossed knees as she said, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting so long.

Chapter Two

    Ben swallowed as the woman—Leah Burtonelli, he knew—pinned him under her penetrating gaze.

    He knew that he should have been afraid of her...and he was, but not for the reasons that he should have been.

    He had seen photos of her online, but it had been more difficult to track her own photos down than it was her younger sister, Raquel. Raquel was a socialite in its finest form, and she never shied away from a photo opportunity, as far as he could tell from his brief time spent researching the family that he knew he was indebted to, although against his will.

    But he had business to attend to, he knew, and being distracted by Leah Burtonelli wasn’t doing him any favors.

    But she was so distracting. She was a tall woman, and not small by any means. Her generous breasts strained against the front of her dress, hugging her ample hips as she angled toward him.

    She pointedly cleared her throat, and he lifted his eyes from her body to her face. Rather than appearing to be annoyed by his ogling her, she seemed confused. He wondered if it was because she wasn’t accustomed to that kind of attention from men. He knew next to nothing about her, but surely as business-oriented as she was, she couldn’t have had that much time to date?

    He knew she was single, though, and there was no way that a woman who looked like her would have been single unless she wanted to be.

    Benvolio?

    Leah, he said, distubed by how huskey his voice sounded.

    You can call me Miss Burtonelli.

    He swallowed. Forgive me, Miss Burtonelli.

    She raised her eyebrows. I know why you’re here.

    You do?

    She frowned. Yes. We both know what you’ve done and why you’re here. This is my party and I truly don’t have time to waste. Let’s take care of what needs to be taken care of and then be done with it.

    Ben hadn’t quite been expecting Leah’s directness. He glanced at the flute of champagne in her hand, though, and noticed she wasn’t drinking it.

    But Leah wasn’t paying any attention to Benvolio’s actions. Nothing more than to take note of his size, and either how trustworthy or threatening he seemed.

    She didn’t need to know much about him to carry out the task she’d been assigned, anyway...although she felt she had everything to prove.

    Whatever you want, Miss Burtonelli.

    I want you to come clean to me as to why you decided it was smart to get caught up in this business at all.

    He sat slightly back. That was direct.

    What other way is there to be, though? she asked him.

    He didn’t seem to have an answer to that particular question. He kept staring at her, though, and Leah didn’t know what to make of the looks he was giving her.

    While she felt the heat from his gaze, though...she knew that couldn’t have been it. Unless Benvolio was dumber than he looked, he would have known that he was in for a night of danger, not a hookup.

    I don’t like sloppy, she said. So if you want to go, we can talk. But you know you can’t walk away from this party, don’t you?

    It was the simplest card to be played, and only a rookie might mistake the party as a place of fun instead of a networking opportunity.

    But from the way Benvolio’s green eyes brightened, widened, and his olive complexion paled, Leah realized he was clueless.

Or, he was that good of an actor.

    What do you mean? he asked.

    Leah shook her head, a few brown ringlets brushing her sharp cheekbones...whether she shook her head in pity or disbelief, or some lethal combination of them both, Ben wasn’t sure.

    Would you speak with me in private?

    As opposed to? he asked, glancing around the room, noting that the rest of the party--and mingling--was going on at least ten yards from them, still seated in a secluded area off the great hall of the estate’s mansion.

    Leah raised one eyebrow. The balcony?

    Okay.

    Moments later, the two stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the rest of the estate.

    Ben remained close to the doors that Leah had let fall closed behind them, but he watched her tall, curvaceous figure as she walked to the end and leaned out over the railing.

    If it weren’t for the growing and gnawing fear clutching his stomach, he would have enjoyed how lovely Leah looked as she leaned over the balcony, some of the curls cascading down her tanned back, revealed by the low-cut back of her deep-purple dress.

    Her calves were shapley, smooth, and on her pretty feet were high-heels that made her seem even taller.

    She had a tattoo of a dragon that appeared to be eating the moon over her left shoulder blade, and its tail and talons extended down her back and disappeared beneath her dress.

    Her skin was flawless and smooth, and it made Ben think about the roughness of his own skin. Conveniently, he yearned to walk up to her, stand beside her, and touch her back, trace the lines of her tattoos, to see where the dragon’s tail ended.

    He had no place to be having those kinds of thoughts about her, though; he knew he was in deep trouble. He probably should have been afraid.

    In that moment, though, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

    His eyes traveled down over her shapely butock to her legs.

    She had strong thighs, he could see through the tight outline of her dress. Her muscular calves flowed from the hem of her dress to her feet. She had another tattoo on her left calf...a snake winding its way down her leg.

    It was a beautiful picture, her there, staring out over the estate in all of her esteemed beauty and glory, against the background of a clear night, starry sky, and the Tyrrhenian Sea in the background.

    You can come over here, Benvolio. I won’t bite you.

    She didn’t turn to face him as she spoke, and her offhandedness with him was more of a turn-on than he was ready to admit.

    He cautiously approached her, though. He knew he was there for business, and apparently he was in some sort of danger…

    Her presence welcomed him in like a siren’s call, though, as he was undeniably and inexplicably drawn to her.

    He stopped beside her, but at least five feet apart.

    He could smell her perfume. He watched her peripherally, and her apparent nonchalance.

    Tell me why you think you came here tonight, she said.

    He glanced over at her, and he had to catch his breath, as he was overwhelmed by her beauty, up close...it had been stifled inside, but she was even more ethereal in the moonlight.

    She was watching him, her face impassive, her light brown eyes framed by heavy black lashes, her skin supple and smooth.

    Benvolio?

    You can call me ‘Ben,’ he said.

    She exhaled, sounding tired. Okay. Ben. Would you care to answer my question?

    I’m not sure.

    She crossed her arms over her chest. Really?

    No.

    I find that difficult to believe, she said, shortly. She frowned, then went on, I realize I’m not the one you thought you’d be dealing with tonight. I’m so sorry to disappoint you.

    I don’t understand.

    She exhaled. Like hell you don’t.

    Miss Burtonelli--

    She tilted her head. Honestly it sounds to me when you say that, like you’re being sarcastic.

    I’m not.

    Her warm brown eyes appraised him...he wasn’t entirely for sure, but he thought he saw some semblance of acceptance in them.

    "I also don’t know what I’m supposed to