"Right." Saint's smile is sharp and predatory. "Manners." He makes no move to greet anyone, and I can see Bianca's eyes harden even as she gives a wide smile.
Adrian's hand tightens on mine.
"Let's begin," Bianca says, gesturing to the dining room.
We move, and I'm placed between Adrian and Luc. Gemma is across from me, next to Saint, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.
I remember Bianca's words:You are Adrian's eyes.
So I watch. Observe every detail.
Conversation flows carefully. Business discussed in code. Territory. Shipments. "Opportunities for cooperation."
I stay quiet, cataloging these people like I do the flaws of an old manuscript.
Luc isn't the charming man who teased me and needled his brother. He's different here. Sharper. He sits at Adrian's right hand, contributing to the conversation with the kind of precision that makes me realize he's not just Adrian's brother.
He's Adrian's second. His enforcer. His consigliere. Different than Leo but incredibly important. He moves in response to Adrian, not taking his eyes off the two men across the table.
Until my son is born, Luc is the spare to the heir, and he knows it.
The transformation is stunning. And slightly terrifying.
I notice how Antonio barely looks at me. He's polite, deferential even, but I'm not the focus. I'm just the wife. The future mother of the heir. Important for what I represent, not who I am.
It should bother me more than it does.
Instead, I see why Bianca called me the eyes. No one pays attention to the wife, which means I can see everything.
"Seraphina." Antonio's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Adrian tells me you work in rare book restoration."
"I did. I do." I stumble over the tense. "It's my passion."
"A beautiful trade. The preservation of history is important." He takes a sip of wine. "My late wife collected first editions. She was a bibliophile." He smiles, and I can see he's still grief-stricken, and it warms me to him, slightly. "Would you be interested in viewing them?"
"I'd like that." It's the most genuine thing I've said all night. "Are you looking for some restoration work?"
Antonio begins to respond, but he's cut off by his nephew.
"Careful, Antonio. She might steal them."
The table goes silent.
"Excuse me?" I turn to him.
Saint is a mystery—well, in his own mind. I could see right through him. All night, he squirmed in irritation, toeing the line of propriety when the conversation strayed to him, but I could tell it was misdirection.
He didn't want to be here, and he is going to make sure that everyone knows it.
And it appears I'm now his target.
"I heard Adrian here needed to marry you because he couldn't wrap it up." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Though I suppose Adrian at least got a pretty little wife out of the deal. Could be worse."
Adrian's fork clatters against his plate. "Shut the fuck up, Saint."
"Adrian." Bianca's voice is sharp, a warning.
But Saint just laughs, clearly not caring. "Touchy. I was giving a compliment." His eyes roam over me, likely to make me uncomfortable. I fix a bored expression on my face. "She is very lovely. I see why you slipped up."
