Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
The sweet, melodic voice interrupting us belonged to the young woman, one that was similar to my age, sitting across the table.
Giulia Salvatore. Twenty years old. Soon to be married into the Bianchi’s family.
I recognized her because she was the only Salvatore with a social media account. I had tried researching the family beforehand but Giulia was the only one with an online presence.
While everyone lived in the shadows, she seemed to enjoy the freedom of being a beauty influencer. Giulia was the perfect embodiment of old money and Italian elegance, admired by millions, but I knew it was a carefully crafted illusion of normalcy.
Beside her sat Beatrice.
Her mother.
Enzo never remarried after the death of his second wife, and Beatrice was his longest surviving mistress. It was rare for a woman of her standing to attend such formal dinners.
But she was no longer just a mistress. She was recognized as a consort even though they were never legally married.
Enzo needed a woman by his side to soften him, to make him appear more humane. Beatrice was the perfect decoy for his facade. To the rest of the world, she represented balance and strength, Enzo’s ever so supportive partner.
But in reality, Beatrice was a queen without a crown. Insignificant.
And so she remained unspoken.
Silenced.
“So, Serafina,” Giulia began, her tone deliberately conversational, “I understand you were studying in California. Private school and then University, am I right? What subject interested you?”
“Yes, I went to a private all-girls Catholic school—”
“So innocent,” Adrian huffed under his breath. “So typical.”
Asshole.
In this moment, I chose to be the better person and ignored Adrian’s callous taunting. “—Before going to UCLA, I was majoring in Art History, with a minor in business administration.”
Adrian snorted softly, and I saw Matteo shoot him a warning glance.
“An interesting combination,” Matteo said gently. His statement caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to show any interest in my education. Especially since my brother and father seemed to continuously dismiss my studies.
“We have some private galleries in New York City. Perhaps you could be of assistance and offer some insight,” he continued.
I blinked in surprise. What was he trying to say? Was my knowledge something valuable to him? That I might have some role beyond just being his wife and warming his bed?
“I think I would enjoy that,” I responded, cautiously and not to sound too eager.
“Of course you would,” Adrian cut in. Why won’t he just shut up? It was almost as if he wanted to be annoying on purpose.
“Let me take a guess,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “You also find yourself interested in charities, expensive galas and other senseless pursuits? How frivolous and superficial. Another mafia princess playing a philanthropist.”
I didn’t let his words affect my composure, though an invisible, unbearable fist tightened around my chest. Like a cutting vise. How dared he?
He knew nothing about me.
About my life.
My sacrifices.
My loss.
My pain.
He knew nothing.
And yet he judged me so harshly.
Men like Adrian Salvatore were truly heartless. I wasn’t sure why I expected anything else. Maybe I had been too naive for a moment. It gave him the perfect chance to step on me.
But my naivety ended now.
Matteo shifted beside me, his shoulder brushing against mine in what felt like a warning. “My brother fancies himself a philosopher when he’s not busy with his... other pursuits.”
“And I suppose you spend your time in more… noble and selfless pursuits?” I shot back at Adrian, completely ignoring Matteo in my frustration.
“My pursuits are nothing as admirable as your academic endeavors,” Adrian replied. “Though I do have a talent for extracting information from reluctant sources.”
“Let me guess. Terrorizing people and gambling with their lives?”
A flash of genuine surprise crossed Adrian's face before his lips curled into a predatory smile. Several guests shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but I held his gaze steadily.
“Oh my, she has claws after all,” he drawled lazily. “I was beginning to worry my brother was marrying a doormat.”
Ah so not as compliant or as boring as he thought I was.
I had not lost my appeal then, I thought… remembering his last words to me under the gazebo. Not that I cared or wanted to be appealing to him.
“Adrian,” Matteo warned, low and dangerous.
But I didn’t need him to protect me. I placed my hand gently on Matteo’s arm, the touch sending an uneasy twist in my stomach but my hand remained there. “It’s quite alright. I have dealt with such a character before. Especially in children. They can be a little stubborn and carry unpleasant attitudes. But children tend to be immature anyway.”
A choked laugh came from Giulia, quickly disguised as a cough. Even Damon’s lips twitched slightly.
“Adrian, you’re not here to provide entertainment through petty squabbles,” Enzo intervened firmly.
“My apologies,” I offered immediately, lowering my eyes in a perfect display of contrition. Play the game right, Lucia told me. “I’m afraid I let my nerves get the better of me.”