These people, don't care about me. If I was just Sophia Torrino, college student, normal girl, they wouldn't spare me a glance. But as Lorenzo Sartori's fiancée? Now I'm worth something. Now I matter.
It makes me sick.
An older man approaches, his eyes roaming over me in a way that makes me want to shower. Lorenzo shifts, subtly blocking the man's view.
"Torrino's niece," the man says, like I'm not standing right there. "Interesting choice, Lorenzo."
"My fiancée," Lorenzo corrects, ice in his tone. "Sophia."
The man's gaze finally meets mine, dismissive. "Of course."
He walks away without another word, like I've ceased to exist.
This is my world now. Being looked through, talked about, evaluated like merchandise. All because of whose ring I'll wear, whose name I'll take.
"Come on," Lorenzo says, his hand warm against my back. "We'll go to my family first."
I spot them across the room—Pietro and Nora holding court with several men and women, Vittoria in a stunning silver gown, Nico watching everything. Bruno isn't here, he doesn't want anyone see him.
Then I see her.
Marina.
My heart stops, then races, then stops again. She's standing next to Vittoria in a emerald green dress I've never seen before, looking like she belongs here. Like she fits into this world of dangerous men and blood money.
Love and hatred war in my chest. She's here, my best friend, my anchor to normalcy. But she's also here, in this nest of vipers, where one wrong word could get her killed.
Lorenzo didn't tell me. Neither did she.
Marina's eyes find mine across the room, and her face lights up. She excuses herself from Vittoria and weaves through the crowd toward us. Each step she takes makes my chest tighter. I want to run to her and shake her at the same time.
"Sophia!" She throws her arms around me, and I breathe in her familiar vanilla perfume. For a second, I'm just a girl hugging her best friend. Not a pawn, not a future Sartori bride, just Sophia.
But the weight of eyes on us brings me back. The entire room watches, cataloging this interaction, filing it away for future use. I pull back first, keeping my smile bright even though my hands shake.
"Marina, what are you doing here?" I keep my voice light, casual, like finding her at my engagement party to a mafia prince is perfectly normal.
"Vittoria invited me." She squeezes my hands. "Said you could use a friendly face."
My throat burns. Vittoria did this for me. Despite everything with Lorenzo and the family secrets, she still thought of me.
Marina turns to Lorenzo, and her expression hardens. Gone is my sweet, optimistic friend.
"Lorenzo." She steps closer to him, and I hold my breath. "You better do your best to take care of her until this thing is over."
The threat in her voice is unmistakable. Marina, who cries at dog food commercials, is threatening Lorenzo Sartori. My stomach drops.
But Lorenzo just smiles.
"If it's ever over," he says quietly, his hand finding my waist.
Wait.What?
I can't process his words, can't untangle what he means, because a familiar voice cuts through the noise of the party.
"Sophia."
Francesco.
