Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Servers in black tailcoats pass by with trays of moody cocktails in shades of garnet, deep plum, and absinthe green.
Beside me, Angelo’s hand rests at the small of my back as he scans the room. I follow his gaze through the sea of feathers, lace, and jewels, admiring the suits and gowns as they glide over the floor.
In our world, the masquerade ball is social currency. It’s an opportunity to showcase wealth and influence, but it’s also a night free from the usual societal pressures. Behind the mask, mysterious and flirtatious interludes thrive. It isn’t unusual to hear of new romances after the ball—and occasionally, scandalous liaisons.
For the Cosa Nostra, it provides opportunities to disarm their rivals, collect secrets, and plot their next moves from the shadows. While the men in this room feel secure in their anonymity, I don’t doubt Angelo already knows who is behind which mask. I can see it in the way his razor-sharp gaze cuts through the crowd and lands on one particular group of men. He gives his brothers a subtle nod, and they disperse into the horde, carrying out some secret mission.
Alessio and Natalia follow suit, leaving us as he declares his intent to introduce his wife to some associates.
Within moments of stepping foot inside, single men come to ask each of my friends to dance, plucking them off like coveted baubles they’re eager to display. Angelo and I watch as a tall man in a dark mask spins Mariella around the dance floor, and I know he’s wondering the same thing I am when his fingers stiffen on my back.
Ares never returned for a follow-up appointment, so it’s possible that it could be him in a suit I don’t recognize. However, that question is answered a moment later when a shadowy figure appears beside us as if we summoned him through dark magic.
“It’s a taxing job, isn’t it?” Ares remarks. “Guarding such delicate flowers.”
Angelo turns to face him as I fight a smile. Mariella is as far from delicate as it gets, and he knows it.
“It’s not that taxing,” Angelo answers dryly. “My sister is quite capable of discerning who is worthy of her time and who is not.”
Ares glances at the woman in question. “Yes, well, let them play with boys long enough, and eventually, they’ll realize they need a man.”
“If and when Mariella finds a man, I’ll be the first to let you know,” Angelo tells him. “Only then will I sign off on her marriage contract.”
“How fortunate she is to have such a loyal guard dog.”
As I watch this verbal tennis match, I wonder if Ares even realizes how tightly he’s gripping his glass of whiskey.
“She’s fortunate that she recognizes what she wants.” Angelo’s lip tilts into a smirk. “And she’s not willing to settle for anything less.”
Ares takes a sip of his drink as his gaze moves to me. “It’s funny how circumstances can change. I might have said the same about your wife at one point. You just never know how things might work out.”
With that parting shot, he drifts into the crowd as Angelo glares at his retreating form.
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” I say quietly.
“I know.” He grabs me by the hand.
I’m not sure where he’s taking me until he stops in the middle of the dance floor and turns to face me. He raises our joined hands and slides his other palm to my back, pulling me into a close embrace. My free hand rests on his shoulder, and I yield to the subtle shift of his body as he draws me into an opening series of steps. Within a few beats, muscle memory and our shared chemistry carry us into an effortless rhythm as he guides me through a dark waltz.
It feels as though time has rewound ten years and we’re back in the ballroom at the Vitale estate, unable to look away from each other. I was mostly a mass of hormones back then, but it seems little has changed with Angelo’s dark gaze on mine.
He shows me off, adding some dramatic flair with his possessive and not-at-all-gentlemanly hold on me. When the music draws to a close, he eases me back into a shallow dip, surprising me with the softest brush of his lips.
It’s over far too quickly when he pulls me upright and leads me from the dance floor. I still feel dizzy and slightly drugged from that single kiss. All I can seem to think about is when he’ll do it again.
We drift through the crowd, making our way to the other side of the ballroom before we’re intercepted by Gabi.
“I think the whole room stopped just to watch you out there,” she says. “You looked amazing together.”
“Thanks.” I blush. “Are you done dancing?”
“Yes. I need a break. That last guy was insufferable.”