Page 15

A man steps through the crowd, and my breath catches as he stops before us. He’s tall—as tall as Freddie. Actually, taller. I have to tilt my head back to look into his glowing green mask. He leans forward slightly, head angled as if to hide. Odd. No one can tell who he is.

But the rest of him? Mio Dio.

His body is gorgeous—covered in velvet, his tight, rippling muscles move underneath like a serpent. My eyes fall down his lean torso to his legs, a flush painting my cheeks crimson.

Since when do I like men?

It’s no secret among the family, I’ve been drawn to women. Nothing more than stolen glances and a yearning to experience. More disappointments for my father, as Roman would say.

But this man is different. His aura is magnetic, his charm oozing from his pores. There’s a bit of a wildness in his stance, a readiness to strike, but it doesn’t happen. It makes him all the more intriguing.

This is not a man my brother usually entertains. Those men are self-centered and slimy. He is someone who would cut them down where they stand.

They exchange words, and Freddie bumps me as he leaves. I sigh, annoyed. He’s already had someone tonight, and yet, he wants more.

Ironically, he runs right to Cherry, in her silken pink pajamas. The woman doesn’t like him—I think her last words on the subject were that he dries her quicker than the idea of fucking a broom handle—but she has no choice. She’s Roman’s girl, and her only purpose in life is to satisfy men.

Catching my eye, I nod once. She smiles slightly in agreement.

Cherry knows what to do. We are all making sacrifices in order to survive.

Roman shifts, and I can feel his anger radiating off of him. It’s my superpower—I can sense other’s emotions. My mother, Carina, used to say it was because I was an empath.

She was always so out there.

My brother’s lips curl watching my fiancé with thinly veiled contempt. Freddie is making him look like a fool, running after a girl when he should be by my side. Say what you will, Roman cares about appearances. And if he’s slighting me, he’s slighting Roman.

After all, I’m the prize and Roman’s ticket to more power. Disregarding me is a slap to his face. I smirk. Maybe it’s not such a terrible party after all.

The stranger shifts, hand slipping into his jacket. The others don’t notice it—but I do. I watch people. It’s how I cope with my surroundings.

Something clear flashes in dim lighting. It’s a small vial, filled with fluid, hidden in the folds of his jacket. He keeps his hand on it, afraid to let go.

Why would he⁠—

Hope surges up my throat, heavy and sweet. Of course, he isn’t someone my brother would interact with; he’s not a friend at all. He’s an enemy.

My eyes dart from him to Roman to Rosa. To anyone. Sweat drips down my spine. No one sees this. No one sees the threat this stranger poses.

My lips lift. He could actually kill him. He could take him out, and I would finally be free.

That hope dashes as Freddie cuts through my vision with Cherry.

I’m not free—not yet. Roman could keel over here, foam at the mouth, and choke on his tongue, but I wouldn’t be free. Not until Freddie’s father, Marco Scipione, annuls the contract. Roman can’t, since it was our father who signed off.

Dio! I’m going to have to save Roman, only so I’m not Freddie’s property.

The irony is not lost on me.

Carefully, I turn and swing my hip into the stranger’s side, as I innocently brush Roman’s shoulder of lint. Is it odd to touch him? Very. But Roman doesn’t mind, thinking I’m taking care of him. As the heir, it’s what he’s used to.

The vial falls to the ground and is swept away by moving feet. His glare burns the side of my face, but I don’t look. This idiota almost ruined my life.

It’s the principle of the thing, really. Did he think he was the only one to want to kill my brother?

“Dance with Valentina,” Roman commands, handing me off to the stranger. My eyes bug. What?

No man is allowed to touch me. And now, Roman just gives me away?