But he isn’t the one who makes my heart race with a single look, the guy who ignites an inferno inside me with a feather-soft touch, the man who turns my heart to mush just by his mere presence.
I decide Vaughan deserves to know the truth because he took a beating for liking me, and I don’t want him entertaining any notions of an us. I deliberately lower my tone and relax my facial expression, doing my best to let him down gently. “I do like you, Vaughan. You’re perfect boyfriend material, but there are certain traditions in my family. Traditions that mean another fiancé will be found for me soon. But the main reason we would never work is I’m in love with someone else. Always have been. Always will be.”
He peers into my eyes, and I let him see the truth of my words.
“That makes me sad for you, Natalia. No one should be forced to marry someone who isn’t the person they love.”
“I agree, but I am powerless to change the way things happen.” I shrug, like it’s not a big deal. But it’s the very reason I hate that my last name is Mazzone.
“Thank you for being straight with me.” He leans in, kissing me briefly on the cheek. “Take care of yourself.” He glances at Archer. “I’ll see myself out. Catch you later.”
“Told you they’ll all be falling over themselves to get to you in that dress,” Frankie says, winking as she loops her arm through mine.
* * *
“I really don’t thinkthis is wise,” Brando repeats, for the umpteenth time, as he parks at the back of the nightclub in Queens where Leo’s party is in full swing. I’m not worried about getting in, even though we are underage, because Papa owns this place and he gave Leo the use of it for tonight, for free, as a birthday gift. None of the staff would dare to refuse me.
“I appreciate your concern,” I say, stabbing him with a “butt out” look through the mirror, “but I’m not missing Leo’s party. Besides, I have to give him his gift.” I don’t know how much Brando knows about what went down between me and Leo, but he’s no dumbass. He helped me to find and purchase Leo’s gift, so I suspect he knows exactly how much I’m in love with him.
Brando sighs, getting out of the car and popping the trunk. I lean in to grab the custom leather box I had made to house Leo’s gift. It has his name carved into the leather, encased in a fine border of real gold. It’s stunning, and I hope he likes it as much as the gifts inside.
“I don’t want to see you hurt, Natalia,” Brando says, “and if you step through those doors, youwillbe upset.”
All the blood drains from my face as I contemplate the meaning behind his words. Brando has never interfered in my life or tried to tell me how to live it. So, this is as close as he has come to trying to persuade me to do things his way. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Brando. I really do. But I guess I need to see this for myself.”
Maybe I’m naïve, but I never even stopped to consider Leo would have moved on. We only broke up six weeks ago. Isn’t he as heartbroken as me?
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” Frankie says, appearing on my other side. She and Archer clearly heard every word of our conversation.
“Nope.” I slam the trunk closed. “I’m giving him his gift, and if he’s in there with another woman, I want to see it with my own eyes.”
Brando offers me his arm, giving in because he can see the determination on my face. “Let’s go then.”
23
Natalia
The room is packed to the rafters, and the noise levels are headache inducing. A layer of cigarette smoke hovers in the stifling air, and lighting is extremely dim. I have never been inside this club before, and it’s a total dive. Music thumps through speakers as partygoers jostle one another at the bar and swarm the heaving dance floor.
My mouth trails the ground when my gaze lands on an elevated section in the center of the room. It looks like a runway strip. The kind you see models prancing up and down on. But this is a different kind of setup. Three semi-naked strippers shimmy up and down poles, gyrating and simulating sex. They pout, as if it’s an Olympic sport, sending seductive looks at the men crowding around them. Some of the men are stuffing dollar bills in their thongs while rubbing noticeable bulges in their pants.
It’s fucking gross, and I’m more than a little sickened.
“Eh.” Archer rubs a hand along the back of his neck as he drinks in the scene. “Maybe Brando is right. I don’t think we should be here.”
“We’re here now. Might as well stay,” I say, skimming the booths on either side of the room, looking for the birthday boy.
The instant I find him, I wish I hadn’t.
Leo is at a table with some friends, but Mateo is nowhere to be seen. A skinny blonde, in a tacky gold fake-leather minidress, is perched on his lap, her plastic tits shoved all up in his face and her arms clinging to his neck. If I’m not mistaken, she is one of the college girls I got thrown out the day of Mateo’s last pool party. Leo’s arm is tight around her waist as he laughs at something one of his friends says.
“Shit.” Frankie shoves Brando aside and takes my hand. “Do you want to go?”
I shake my head, unable to force a word out over the painful lump clogging my throat. Watching the blonde run her fingers through his hair is like a dagger through the heart. Touching his hair is something I loved to do, and I’ve given him plenty of scalp massages, which I know he enjoyed. Seeing someone else touch him in that way, in public, boils the blood in my veins.
“Nope.” I snatch the box from Brando’s hands, shoving through the crowd as I make my way toward Leo’s table. I know my friends are following me, so I don’t look back. The girl sees me first, flipping me the bird before pressing the side of Leo’s head into her chest as she gloats at me. She clearly remembers me too.
I reach the table and slap the box down on it, capturing the attention of everyone seated there. Leo slowly turns around to face me with a cold, disinterested look on his face.
