Somehow we drift to the topic of love.
“Sophie falls in love so easily,” Siena says, affection in her voice. “She has the softest heart of anyone I know.”
I set down my wine glass carefully. “What are you talking about?” I laugh. “I’ve never fallen for anyone else before.”
The word hangs there.Anyone else.I cringe.
Siena’s eyes widen. “Anyone else? What does that mean? Are you saying you’re in fucking love right now?”
I press my lips together, heat climbing my cheeks.
“Sophia!” Siena sits up straighter despite her belly. “Please don’t tell me you’re in love with fucking Vin!Please!”
Valentina’s laugh cuts through the room like broken glass. “Oh, this istoogood. Sophie Bellamorte in love with Vincenzo Demonio?” She examines her nails, smirking. “Sweetie, have you looked in a mirror lately? You’re adorable in that wholesome, farmer’s market kind of way, but Vin doesn’t do wholesome. He does this.” She gestures vaguely at herself.
“Valentina!” Giovanna starts, but Valentina talks over her.
“Oh, I’m the asshole now? Tell me I’m lying. Seriously, tell me that all of you aren’t thinking the same thing.”
The women glance away. Even Siena. Even Olivia.
My face burns. She’s not wrong. I said it the first night he was at my place: he can have anyone. Why would he choose me?
The door opens and when I see Vin’s massive frame, my heart leaps. Then it plummets.
Vin stumbles in, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot. Liquor and cigarette smoke cling to him, but there’s also something floral and cloying.
Perfume. Women’s perfume.
He won’t look at me.
I stand, moving toward him automatically. “Vin, are you—”
“Don’t.” He’s loud, shrugging me off him.
The room goes quiet.
Siena’s voice is careful. “Vin, Sophie made my favorite, theosso buccoyou love. Why don’t you—”
“I’m not hungry.” His words slur slightly.
“Since when?” Siena presses, splitting a look between us. “Try it. Tell her how good it is. She worked all day.”
“It’s fucking food, Siena,” he says flatly. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
I’m sure it’s fine.He’s moaned over my cooking, closed his eyes in bliss. I have no idea what’s happening right now?
Siena stands, no easy feat at eight months pregnant, and punches him in the shoulder hard. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Vin doesn’t flinch. His eyes are on me now, dark and cold.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask quietly, hating how small my voice sounds.
He laughs. The sound scrapes like metal on stone. “You really want to do this here, princess?”
Princess. He does call me that sometimes, but not in this light, mocking tone like he’s making fun of me.
“Do what?” My hands twist together.
