I squeeze his hand as hard as I can.
“He’s right,” I whisper, finding my voice. “We stay together.”
Ms. Mills looks between us, her professional mask slipping slightly. Maybe she sees something in our desperate faces. Maybe she just doesn’t want to fight two traumatized children.
“I’ll…see what I can do,” she says finally.
Damiano doesn’t relax his grip on my hand. Not even a little. And neither do I.
2
Lucy
Present day
The Corinthian Hotel ballroom glitters with crystal chandeliers and the muted wealth of Malus’s most powerful families, political and criminal, all mingling together. I stand at the edge of the crowd, champagne flute untouched in my hand, watching Damiano work the room.
He’s twenty-two now and devastatingly handsome in his black tuxedo. Dark curls, perfectly styled, frame his sharp jaw, and those warm brown eyes see everything. He moves through the crowd with the easy confidence of a prince who knows he’ll one day be king. Men defer to him. Women gravitate toward him. He clasps hands, claps shoulders, laughs at jokes. Playing the part of Don Carlucci Barone’s heir perfectly.
My chest aches as I watch him. Ten years we’ve lived under the same roof, pretending we’re brother and sister. Ten years of dying inside every time he dates someone else, touches someone else, smiles at someone else the way I wish he’d smile at me.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?”
I turn in surprise. A blond man in his mid-twenties has materialized at my elbow. He’s tall, good-looking in a carefully groomed way that speaks of money and insecurity in equal measure. His smile is pleasant but doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Excuse me?”
He gestures with his whiskey glass toward a stunning brunette laughing at something Damiano just said. “Jessica Calabrese. Your brother has excellent taste.”
The champagne turns sour in my mouth. I know who Jessica is. A senator’s daughter, impeccably connected, and exactly the kind of woman Mom would approve of.
“He does,” I say, taking a sip to hide my envy.
The blond man extends his hand. “Andreas Montoni. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, though I know who you are, of course. Lucy Barone. The jewel of the family.”
I feel a flicker of annoyance at the empty flattery and shake his hand briefly. His palm is slightly damp. “Mr. Montoni.”
I know the Montonis well. I went to school with his cousin, Adora Montoni, daughter of the late Agnello Montoni, and sister to the cold and slightly sinister Cristiano. He’s the new Montoni don, the head of the crime family and one of the most powerful men in the city. I hope Cristiano turns out to be less bloodthirsty than his dead father.
“Please, call me Andreas. We’re practically friends already, aren’t we? Your father and my cousin do so much business together.” He moves closer, invading my space. Close enough that I can smell his cologne, which is expensive and applied too liberally. “In fact, I’ve been hoping to get to know you better. Your father speaks very highly of your expertise with gemstones.”
“Does he?” This surprises me. Dad barely acknowledges my existence at home.
“He says you have an exceptional eye. I’ve been thinking of making an investment in jewelry myself. Perhaps you could advise me?” His gaze drops to my neckline, lingering on the pendant nestled between my breasts. “I’d be grateful for your…expertise.”
His oily tone makes my skin crawl. I’m about to excuse myself when I feel a familiar presence behind me. A subtle shift in air pressure that means safety and home, and everything I want and can’t have.
“Andreas.” Damiano’s voice is cordial but with a sharpened edge. His hand settles on my lower back, possessive and protective. “I see you’ve met my sister.”
“Indeed. We were just discussing business opportunities.” Andreas’s smile doesn’t waver, but his eyes flick between Damiano’s face and where his hand rests on my back. Behind his pleasant expression, his eyes are calculating. “Lucy was telling me about her gemology work.”
“I wasn’t telling him anything, actually,” I correct, shifting closer to Damiano despite myself.
Damiano’s hand tenses fractionally on my back. “Lucy’s expertise is too valuable to discuss at a social function.” The warning is subtle but unmistakable. I’m not for the Montonis to covet.
Andreas raises his hands in mock surrender. “Of course. I meant no offense. Though I hope we’ll have the chance to speak again someday, Lucy.”
He melts back into the crowd, but not before shooting me one last appraising look that makes me feel like merchandise being evaluated.
