I study her, the concern growing. I could accept her anger, her fury, but this – this emptiness – it’s wrong.
She’swrong.
Some of Asante’s men linger nearby as I force a charmed smile to my lips. “You look lovely this evening, Caterina. May I have this dance?”
This time, something flickers on her face. She whispers something, too low for me to catch.
Stefano steps in front of her, his arm covering her. “Not tonight.”
My eyes narrow. “Is she well?”
Careful. I can’t lose the ground I’ve gained now, after so long.
“Not well enough to waste her time talking to you.” I snap my gaze to his, catch the challenge and the anger in his black eyes. “Interesting choice in friends you have, Morelli.”
I purse my lips, still smiling. And I’m still smiling as Salvatore Asante walks up behind them, his voice glacial. “Is there a problem?”
“Not at all,” I say in a low voice. “I was hoping for a dance with your wife, Asante. But Stefano here seems ratherprotectiveof her.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Understandable, of course.”
Salvatore’s eyes harden further. Wariness wars with irritation. “One dance.”
“Of course.” I lean past a seething Stefano to grasp Cat’s hand, patting his cheek. He jerks away. “Don’t frown so hard,amico. She’ll be back with you in a moment.”
There’s no resistance as I pull on her hand. She follows me to the dark marble floor where several couples are already dancing, creating the thin veil of civility for tonight’s party that will dissolve within the hour as more alcohol and drugs are passed out. Morewomen.
She’s barely even air in my arms as I slide my hand around her waist. Her eyes are unfocused on my chest, her lips moving as I lift her hand. “Caterina.”
She moves with me. Follows like a shadow, a ghost.
My throat locks up, until I have to force the words free, force the carefree smile to my face as if I’m merely chatting about the weather. “Little crow.”
Aflinch.
And more murmurs. Without her heels, she’s shorter than I am, and I bend slightly to listen.
“Not real. Not real. Not real.”
My brows furrow, and smooth out again. “Cat. Look at me.”
But there’s nothing as we sway in place. No matter what I say, she doesn’t look at me. And when the music ends, I’m forced to lead her back to Stefano. He doesn’t even look at me as he scans her.
I keep my voice low. “What thehellis wrong with her?”
He clearly debates whether to answer me at all. He flicks black eyes to where Salvatore has sat again. The woman who came to dinner with us is in his lap.
“K withdrawal,” he says finally. He looks ill as he says it. “She’s been on it since the dinner party.”
Ketamine.
I can’t.
I turn away. My feet eat up the growing distance between us as I blindly push my way through the crowd.
Her face. Empty, and lost, and—
If I don’t get away from her, I’m going to kill them.
