“This is not only a job,” he said, his tone cold. “This is her life.” He motioned to Mia’s photo behind me.
That sobered me some. It was fucking hard trying to balance the anticipation of coming face to face with her after two years, knowing what I’d come to do, and the seriousness of what was happening. The entire family had been anticipating something like this since she was born. She was lucky they hadn’t set her behind gilded gates and raised her away from the eyes of the world. No doubt that was her mamma’s call.
I stood taller. “I’d die to protect her.”
He watched me for a second. Then he nodded. “Nothing less would do. I would not allow it.” He grinned a little, satisfied with my response. “Perhaps you should worry more, Pretty Boy Prince. A few wrinkles will only make you more legitimate to the enemy. A resting scowl face.”
“My reputation already does that.” I shrugged. “If not, they will never expect me.”
“Boo,” he said.
“Boo, motherfucker,” I said.
We shared a slight grin, and then we both turned when the party from the dressing room started to make its way down the hallway. The men were all in tuxedos, including me, and the women were all wearing fancy dresses that shimmered in the soft candlelight. Her uncles and their families passed first. One of her uncles, Rocco, detached from the group and came to stand with us as everyone continued forward.
She was so close, but still so far. She was at the end of the line with her parents and brothers. Her laughter rang out, and her mamma’s joined in, along with a brother or two. When they moved, they created a wall. Matteo was first in line, followed by Mariano, Marciano, and Maestro. Even though Mia was the oldest, her brothers all walked in the order of their births.
All thoughts went up in smoke when those green eyes crashed into mine as she passed, a parent on each side of her. It was fucking cliche to say, but whenever she was this close, the world faded, and only the two of us seemed to exist.
If only she would stop shoving me out.
Her face pinched, and she started to notice that her entourage was walking very close to her. She was already sensing that something was up. I could tell she was coming up with her own ideas as to what.
Mia was a dangerous combination. She had her father’s meticulous mind and her mamma’s overly developed sense of empathy. She wasn’t to be underestimated.
Neither was I. And when it came to her, there were no limits to what I’d do.
Rocco stepped closer to me. He stared at them but spoke to me in Italian. “She does not know yet,” he said, telling me something I already knew. “When we speak to her, we will do it gently. Nothing will ruin this night or her life.”
Gently.Maybe they saw her as a helpless little ballerina princess, but they had no idea who she actually was. A lioness.
“Sì,” I said, agreeing for his benefit. “We will speak gently to her about the situation.”
I nodded at her, once and sharply, as she passed, then grinned at the set of her face. Her eyes were narrowed, and her lips pinched even tighter. Though, when she’d first seen me, I’d seen relief ease her tense expression. That intense pull she felt out in the audience had a name and a reason.
Me.
She looked over her shoulder at me until she couldn’t. All that was left in the hallway were the lingering scents of colognes and perfumes after everyone but the three of us had left.
Mia and I were going to talk, but there was no telling how this was going to end—with her threatening me with war, or our bodies surrendering in the bedroom.
Chapter3
Mia
As I sat in the back of the armored car with my parents and brothers, these simple words were on the tip of my tongue. “WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?”
I had a feeling Saverio Macchiavello would show up tonight, but not out of duty. I knew he would force me to test the pull between us while I performed what was supposed to be one of the most memorable ballets of my life. He’d done it before, but for some reason, it was different tonight. It was almost as if he moved from one area of the opera house to another, and a part of me moved with him, following a burning light out in the audience.
I hated it.
I took a few deep breaths because my heart was rebelling against me for the lie…
Okay.
I didn’t hate him. I hated what existed between us, and I wanted it severed.
And maybe hate was a harsh word for something that was supposed to be beautiful and different.
