“No more Crystal then?” Lorenzo asked. My ears perked up.
“Fuck that,” Rocco said under his breath.
“Crystal is old news,” Dom said, amused. “She finally stopped stalking him.”
My eyes widened.A stalker?My brothers were big exaggerators, so maybe he was joking. I wanted to be part of the conversation with a thousand and one questions, but I bit my tongue. As it was, I felt like an intruder. Like the pesky little sister, I’d once been, following my older brothers around until they gave in to my pleas for tea and slumber parties. It was stupid since I was a grownup and knew they wanted me to feel welcome here, but it didn’t feel right to jump into a conversation like this. I held my words back, waiting for someone else to ask more questions about this Crystal person. Someone asked, but I missed it while I was lost in thought.
“She’s fucking one of Gabe’s friends,” Rocco said. “Good luck to him with that psychopath.”
“A Wall Street guy?” Gio asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a far cry from you.”
“Is it, though?” Dean asked, pocketing his phone. “Wealthy, shady, cut-throat?”
Everyone laughed.
“The difference is that I don’t need party favors to have fun.” Rocco winked.
They all laughed again, and even though I laughed along, I couldn’t keep my heart from skipping at the sight of a wink that wasn’t even directed at me. Dear God, I needed help. I also couldn’t stop looking at his eyes and lips or fantasizing about how they would feel against mine. I tried not to. I did. I looked around, drank some more champagne, and kept listening to the rest of the conversation. The way they communicated was fascinating. Some of their jokes were borderline offensive, and of course, those were the ones that made them laugh the hardest. I looked at the married couples and noticed how their husbands were always touching their wives – brushing hair out of their faces, dropping kisses onto their heads, and holding them by the waist. I would kill to have something like that.
My parents had always embodied the same rules as the British Royal Family, showing little affection in public. My attention turned back to Rocco, who was watching me intently. My heart skipped again. I wanted to drown in those blue eyes. His lips turned slightly. I was sure no one else noticed, but my entire body heated with that tiny smirk because it told me he somehow knew what I was thinking. Two months ago, that would have embarrassed me. I’d never been forward or obvious about checking out a man, but I was to be married in less than a month, and that alone was enough to throw myself at the first man who would take me. I decided that I wanted that man to be Rocco. He wasn’t just some random man, though. Rocco Marchetti wastheman. I knew it was dangerous and probably impossible, but I wanted him to be my first. I just needed to figure out how to make that happen.
3
LENORA
“There will beanother one of these tomorrow,” my father said, tapping the tip of my nose.
I hated these parties, thoughpartywasn’t the word I’d use to describe this, since there was no dance music and the lights weren’t dim enough even if there were. I never liked parties in the past, but they were far worse when centered around me. I’d never minded having people look at me. Watching my mother taught me to hold my head high in every room. I did it at boarding school, where everyone thought they were better than the next. They hadn’t yet figured out that none of it mattered in the end. Then again, my father hadn’t figured it out either, and he was much older and more experienced than the kids at boarding school. He’d been born a king and would die a king. No one ever questioned my father. Not his motives, not his actions, not his words.
“Why so many parties?” I asked. “It seems like overkill.”
“Well.” Dad moved his head from side to side, as he did when he was about to explain something he knew I wouldn’t like. “It’s like a kid’s first birthday party. Is it for the kid or just an excuse for adults to get together?”
“So this is just an excuse for you to get every single person on the FBI’s Most Wanted in one room?” I asked.
“Careful.” He shot me a look. His eyes looked so much like my brothers’ when he did that. It was the look most people feared, but I never cowered under that stare. It was a privilege very few had. “We’re businessmen.”
“Right.” I snorted.
He smiled a little. “Your mother couldn’t be here for this one, so we’ll have another. You don’t want your mother to miss out on all of this, do you?”
I sighed heavily. I had a million comebacks for that, but I didn’t want to use them. Mom was visiting my ailing grandmother, and I was sure this was the last place she wanted to be. She didn’t agree with this wedding either. The only ones who were okay with it were Papa and Adriano. They'd be the sole parties reaping the benefits from the shady business deal they had going.
“Maybe we should delay the wedding because of Grandma?” I said quickly.
“No.” He took his phone out of his pocket. “So you know, I’m taking a quick trip to the farm in the morning. I’ll be back in time for the party.”
My heart stopped beating. “I thought you were going back to Palermo for business?”
“After the party.” He took out his phone and checked his messages, scoffing at whatever he saw on the screen.
I looked, unable to help myself, and saw a half-dressed woman blowing a kiss at the camera. My face burned in shame, and I glanced away quickly, pretending not to have seen it. It was what Mom always did. It was what I’d have to do with Adriano. My mother had given me countless talks about marriage over the years, preparing me for what was to come. I’d only half-listened since their marriage was not the example I wanted to set for myself. It was the only one I’d ever known until Dominic married Rosie, which made me realize I wanted what they had. I knew I wouldn’t get it, though. Not in this lifetime, which was why I was resorting to begging, and if that didn’t work, I’d make sure these next two weeks would be the best of my life.
“What if we just wait another year?” I pleaded, setting a hand on his arm. He turned to me, eyes softening as much as they ever did, which wasn’t much. “Please, Papa. Just one year. Let me have one year.”
“Lenora. We talked about this.”
“Six months then.”
