She stopped the moment she saw me. “Oh, I didn’t realize–”
I pushed off, standing back to my full height of six-foot-five. My eyes found Francesca’s in the mirror.
Fuck, she was pretty.
Her features were striking. Bold, yet went so good together, it made me remember all the unholy thoughts I’d had of her these past few weeks. I had to look away before turning to face her just to get my shit together.
“I was just leaving,” I spoke, my mind distant as I headed out.
To my surprise, Francesca stepped in front of me. “What happened to the life of the party?”
I only glanced at her for a split of a second, frowning at her teasing smirk, not sure if she was being genuine. “I’m not in the mood.”
I tried to walk around but her hand clutched onto my bicep, stopping me.
“He just needs time.” Her voice came soft and genuine. She’d never spoken to me like that before. Never smiled at me before either, but she did a moment ago.
I turned my head, looking down at the woman who’d almost cut off my fingers last month, willingly touching me. Her black, doe eyes stayed on me,warmlike that, for the first time.
I smirked. “Thank you for the kind words,princesa.”
Her hand dropped and she took a step back, scoffing at me. “Don’t get used to it.”
“I’ll cherish this memory,” I teased her, bringing my palm to my heart.
“You just looked so depressed, I had to say something.” She crossed her arms, leaning her weight on one hip. “You were ruining my mood.”
“Ah, my mistake.” I smiled, my own mood much lighter than before.
Her eyes came up to mine. In the dim, gold lighting of the bathroom, she looked almost ethereal. With her blondehair, white dress against that smooth, glowing, olive skin, and that unguarded look in her eyes.
I looked away, clearing my throat. She took another step back, dropping her hands to her side.
“If you’re done filling the bathroom with your tears, please get out.” She tilted her head, a sweet-poison smile on her lips.
“Alright, alright,” I chuckled, heading out.
Who knew the littleDonnawas the comforting type?
I stopped before closing the door behind me, giving her one last look over my shoulder. She was already watching me, her eyes anything but indifferent. “Don’t worry,princesa. I won’t tell anyone your secret.”
“And what’s that?”
I smirked, my eyes dropping to her red toes peeking out of her thousand-dollar heels, then back up her toned legs and the white dress that hugged her in all the right places, before I felt it heat on her face.
She bit her cheek, in annoyance or maybe something else, I didn’t know. But what I did know, was thatbad,scaryFrancesca DeMone blushed for me.
Chapter 9
Present
Upper East Side, New York City
THE PENTHOUSE SMELLED FAINTLY OF leather and bourbon, sleek and impersonal despite belonging to our family. White couches and polished marble floors gleamed under the recessed lights, every surface too clean, too modern, like a showroom no one really lived in. The only warmth came from the city outside – Vegas spilling its neon across the floor-to-ceiling glass like a spilled deck of cards, each light flashing temptation.
I lay sprawled across the couch, scrolling lazily through my phone, legs crossed at the ankle. My reflection in the glass flickered every time a billboard shifted outside.
Across the room, Tony was warming up, bare fists slicing the air with crisp precision. His shadow danced against the glass, wild and untamed, while his knuckles cracked like distant gunfire. He looked sharp, focused – born for the kind of violence he lived in.
