With shaky legs and a stomach full of churning anxiety, I grip Rafe’s arm as he leads me to the top of the stairs, where I can see a party below that’s currently in full swing.
I suck in a trembling breath when we begin our descent, and Rafe croons softly beneath his breath, “Mia brava ragazza.”
The words make my shoulders straighten, and I lift my head just as heads turn our way. By the time our feet hit the third last step, there’s silence as Rafe comes to a stop, regarding the sea of faces.
“Benvenuto a casa mia. And a special warm welcome to Don Salvatore?—”
He cuts off, flourishing his free arm toward a tall silver-haired man with a hard-set jaw. He’s flanked on either side by an older woman—seemingly his wife—and two daughters, one of whom is watching me with a deep frown on her pretty face. A tall, slender teenage boy, who could be Salvatore’s doppelganger, stands at his back, undoubtedly his son.
“Now, everyone. I invite you to relax, enjoy my hospitality, and please remember to keep the politics for another day.” His lips lift in a devilish smile as a chuckle runs through the crowd. “I envision a fun night ahead.”
CHAPTER 22
ELODIE
Rafe wasas good as his word, indulging me with his time for far longer than was probably appropriate until he introduced me to Chiara, the wife of Davide, one of his Capos.
If she knew who I was, and my reason for being here, she made no mention of it, and it wasn’t long before we were chatting together like old friends.
“Do you know if Rafe – err, I mean, Rafael, hosts this kind of thing very often?”
Chiara’s eyes widen as she shakes her head. “Obviously, with everything with Aurelia…” she trails off, and my stomach twists uncomfortably, recalling the beautiful spitfire on the video call.
“But there’s a good reason for this one, Elodie. It’s been an announcement that’s a long time coming. So, it’s not distasteful to enjoy ourselves.” She drains her champagne flute, before beckoning a passing server for another.
“What’s the reason?”
Chiara plucks a fresh flute from the server’s tray, tilting her head to one side in question. “Hmm?”
“The reason for the party.” She brings the glass to her lips as her eyes widen, and I repeat myself. “What’s the reason?”
“You don’t know?” Chiara tilts her head to one side, a frown marring her pretty features as I shake my head.
She freezes mid-sip, her gaze flitting from side to side before she stands suddenly, and excuses herself without even waiting for my response.
Though her reaction was more than a little strange, I quickly deposit my empty champagne flute onto the table before me and stand, intent on using the restroom.
I almost give up, and just go to my suite, when I manage to find an unoccupied one on my third attempt. I quickly slip inside and relieve myself before freshening up to return to the party.
As I leave, I feel a hand on my forearm, and I jerk back, preparing to defend myself until I note it’s the girl from before, one of Salvatore’s daughters. The one who’d been looking at me with curiosity in her gaze.
“Excuse me,Senorina.” She smiles pleasantly, and I answer with one of my own. “May I talk with you for a moment?”
I look left and right, then left again, settling on the kitchen door at the far end of the hallway before I turn to her with a nod. “Of course. We can speak in the kitchen.”
She follows quickly as I lead the way, holding the door open for her to enter first, then I slip in after her.
Once I’ve closed the door behind me, she regards me with serious gray eyes and tilts her head to one side before she extends her hand. “I’m Gabriela.”
The warmness from the hallway has dimmed when I take her hand in mine with a slight frown. “Elodie.” Once I’ve given her hand a firm shake, I drop it and step back, tucking my hair behind my ears as I hold her inquisitive eyes. “How can I help you, Gabriela?”
She blows out a breath, then huffs sarcastically. “Well, you could start by keeping your hands offmyfiancé.”
There’s buzzing in my ears, and my vision seems to blur when my stomach lurches with nausea. All I can do is stand there, blinking owlishly before I finally manage to stammer, “Wh-wh-what did you j-j-just say?”
“Oh, you poor fool. You didn’t think he intended to remain heirless, did you?” She winces at whatever she sees on my face. “Of course, Rafael will marry to his family’s advantage. A union between ours is expected.”
And now Chiara’s words from before make sense.
