“This entire family is out of bounds,” Neil said.
“But I see the draw,” Milo said. “It’s like the royal family married into the Medici family, and their kid married into the mafia. This current family is a product of all those ties.”
Neil and Milo started discussing the family while I watched the main players in tonight’s event. Most of the family started dancing after Luca’s speech, but Brando moved away from the floor and went to talk to Lothario, who was standing at the bar.
“My chance,” Rainer said, taking me by the arm and pulling me toward the dance floor, where Scarlett was dancing with an unknown man.
I mouthed to Neil and Milo,I’ll catch up with you two later!
Neil and Milo followed behind us, and when Rainer left to go talk to Scarlett, I told them it was okay. They should go mingle. Edna was going to want a detailed article along with some fantastic shots.
“I’m worried about you, Peps,” Neil said.
I looked him in the eyes and said, “I’ve got this.”
He hesitated for a second, then kissed my cheek and set a press pass in my hand. I looked at it as he walked away. It had the hotel they were staying at scribbled on the back. The dress had pockets, and I tucked it into one.
Rainer had finally summoned the courage to approach Scarlett while her husband was occupied with his uncle. I was torn between watching him interact with her, or watching the exchange between Brando and Lothario, but I didn’t have to debate for long. Brando’s eyes were constantly on his wife, and when he noticed Rainer, he left the conversation with his uncle and headed toward Scarlett.
Judging by the dangerous glint in Brando’s eyes, if this place would have been made of glass, he would have shattered it to pieces to get to his wife, using the sharp pieces to his advantage.
I breathed out a sigh.
How fucking romantic and ruthless.
Oh yeah, Brando Fausti had both in spades.
He swaggered up to his wife and Rainer like he ran the entire world, setting his hand on the small of her back. One subtle move, and the entire room knew she was his.
Scarlett seemed uncomfortable. She was rambling, introducing her husband to Rainer, while the guy she’d been dancing with slapped Brando on the shoulder, a smirk on his face as he left them. The conversation was somewhat awkward for Scarlett, and I thought it was because she was on edge about what her husband might do to Rainer. Brando was calm and cool on the outside, but underneath the surface, there was something deadly about him.
A server passed and lowered a tray of bubbling champagne in front of me. I took one, then a small sip, keeping my eyes on the three and trying to stretch my ears to hear the conversation.
A man came to stand next to me.
Tall, broad shouldered, dark eyes, perfect lips, smelled like a million bucks…
Fausti.
He greeted me in Italian, and when I shook my head and lifted my hands, he spoke to me in English.
“I have been admiring you all night, angel.” His voice was deep and smooth and perfectly accented. “One dance on earth, then you will either allow me to escort you back to heaven or be thankful for the fall from grace.”
Back in New York, I would have laughed and, depending on who it was, either called him a clown in my head or out loud, telling him to go back to whatever circus he had escaped from. Whoever this guy was, he was as smooth as they came, and I bought what would have ordinarily been a cheesy line.
I downed the champagne, set it on a passing server’s tray, and shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t dance.”
“No.” The word was elongated and spoke in such a deep tone that it made it seem like my answer was a serious insult to dance floors everywhere.
“Yes,” I said.
“How can this be?”
“Simple, really. You know how some people refuse to kiss on the lips because it’s too personal? I refuse to dance because it’s too personal. Sing out loud too.”
“For the right man, you would do this, yes?”
“I don’t even know your name.”
