I look around the room at the fake smiles and lined pockets.
Politicians cozyup to us to fund their campaigns, while in exchange they turn blind eyes to some of our… businesses, to make our lives easier.
Nothingworse than the feds up your ass.
It’s a symbiotic relationship.
“You’ve been distracted as of late,” Valerio says, giving me a knowing glance. “Might it have to do with a particular short, petite brunette?”
I give him a hard stare. “You’re not funny.”
“I’m hilarious, and we both know this.” He sips his drink and dodges the slap I want to give him. “It’s not my fault you’ve been taken down by a woman. I told you there are plenty of others outthere. Fuck her out of your system and be done with it. We have bigger problems.”
“I don’t need to get her out of my system,” I say, too sharp. “She’s not a concern.”
I don’t know if I’m trying to convince him… or myself.
“Has the guest of honor made an appearance yet?” Valerio thankfully changes the subject.
Immediately, my mood sours. “No. Seems like he wants to make a grand entrance. Knowing Giacomo, he’ll walk in with fucking theme music.”
Valerio laughs low. “So what do you think? Is she stunning… or the kind of face that makes babies cry?”
“A cursed soul, more like.” I can’t help but pity whoever ends up with his ring on her finger.
The room falls quiet, a slow ripple of attention pulling toward the entrance. I follow the shift out of habit—until I see him. Giacomo, walking in with his fiancée on his arm.
My gaze drifts to the woman beside him, and everything in me goes still.
No. It can’t be.
Yet there she is, stepping into the light like she belongs in it, and something inside me detonates so hard my pulse stutters.
Beatrice.
Her name doesn’t rise—it escapes me, dragged out on a breath I didn't mean to let go.
The floor feels unsteady beneath me.
The noise, the lights, the people fade to nothing, and all I can see is her—standing where she shouldn’t be, with a man who has no right to touch her.
I force my hands to stay loose at my sides, even as something in me strains against restraint, wanting to break free and do something I shouldn’t.
Of all the women he could have chosen… he chose her.
And suddenly the room feels too small, the air too thin, and every pair of eyes is irrelevant except hers.
She stands with Giacomo looking like a queen. Her long brown hair is styled into a delicate updo that frames her soft features. Her face has the smallest touches of makeup, and she radiates with a glow that can only come from within.
Giacomo whispers something in her ear, and she nods with a simple smile.
I swear,if he keeps looking that pleased with himself, I might break his damn face.
“This has to be the sickest joke the universe ever pulled.” Valerio kisses his teeth, disbelief and humor mixing in his tone. “She’s marrying Giacomo.”
He huffs a laugh.“Guess the bastard’s got taste after all.”
My eyes stay glued on them—her.
