No part of me wanted to win her approval. She’d been a horrible mother, to both Achilles and Lila.
I let my shoulder brush against hers, proud of myself for standing up to the she-devil, when I saw something that stopped me in my tracks.
Achilles.
His shoulder was casually leaning against the wall, and he was holding a glass of whiskey, conversing with a woman Iknewwas Katya Rasputin without ever seeing her face before.
She had the Rasputins’ cobalt eyes, and the same composure of a cold-blooded serpent looking to sink its venomous fangs into an innocent.
A surge of dizzying wariness ran through me.
Tiernan lied. She wasn’t average-looking. She had that Slavic-model look—with a svelte figure and a face where everything was small and neat and pretty.
She looked just like any college girl. Pretty and youthful, in a black velvet minidress and kitten heels.
They weren’t standing very close, and the conversation seemed casual enough, but when he said something, staring at the bottom of his whiskey, and she giggled, demurely covering her mouth with her hand, an explosion of heat and anger detonated in my stomach.
Just having her in the same room with him made me want to shatter everything in my vicinity into dust.
Why was she here? Did he change his mind about marrying her? Did he have second thoughts after the dust had settled, and he realized he did want a little Mary Sue to pop out children for him?
I bled jealousy over the expensive floor, torn into a million pieces at the flirty gazes Katya threw Achilles from under her lashes.
She wanted him. And I wanted to kill her for it. If she didn’t keep her hands to herself, one of us was going to get what they wanted. And it sure as hell wasn’t going to be her.
I was so sick with rage that bile tickled the back of my throat. Not wanting to add vomiting on the dining table to my list of sins against the Ferrantes, I turned around with the intention of exiting the room, only for my sight to crash on Don Vello himself.
Or…what was left of him, anyway.
He was slumped in a wheelchair, a thin trail of saliva traveling from the corner of his mouth and down his chin. His pupils were blown, his expression blank. It was obvious he was out of it and couldn’t register me, or anyone else, in the room.
“You’re in my way,” Chiara seethed from behind him, which was when I realized she was pushing his wheelchair. I stepped aside, my eyes following her as she positioned him at the head of the table. It was impolite to stare, but manners mattered little to me where he was concerned.
Seeing the great Don Vello, who had ruled New York with an iron fist for as long as I could remember, looking like a pale, ghostly shell of himself, sent a thrill down my spine.
My gaze trekked down to his armrests, landing on his pinky-less hand immediately.
I did that.
Satisfaction prickled my chest, spreading warmth across it.
“É pronto, venite tutti a tavola!”Chiara waved a frantic hand, securing the brakes on the wheelchair with her foot. “We have a big announcement to make tonight, and it cannot wait. Sit down and eat.”
A big announcement?
I fell to the seat nearest to me, determined to pretend I wasn’t in full-blown panic mode. Humiliation seared my skin. Why was I forced to sit here and watch Achilles flirt with his future wife? And why hadn’t Tiernan and Lila warned me?
And here I thought getting shot in the head was the worst part of my year.
Enzo plopped into the seat next to mine, patting my knee. “Will you let me sniff your lasagna?”
“Sure.” I snapped my napkin and rested it in my lap. “If you’ll give me a joint afterward. Tiernan and Lila are hiding all the tobacco, alcohol, and fun stuff from me.”
“You need to get out of that house. My sister treats everyone like they’re fresh outta diapers.”
“I don’t know how my brother lives like that.” I shook my head.
“Well…” Enzo’s eyes swept over the couple, who sat next to us. Lila was talking to Tiernan animatedly, moving her hands. His gaze was locked squarely on her bouncy breasts. “I can think of at least two reasons.”
