She brushes her fingers under her nose, making sure there isn’t any white powder visible. My date has a bit of a coke habit.
“You can’t get shitfaced tonight. I need you on your toes,” I tell her.
“You two make a beautiful couple,” an older lady with perfectly styled blue - gray hair says in passing.
I grin.
“Thank you,” Lucinda replies.
The band’s ballad ends.
The DJ’s voice booms through the speakers. “Welcome home, Serenity!”
Clapping erupts around the ballroom.
My pulse hammers harder than it should.
She steps into the center of the ballroom and waves to the crowd. A green satin dress clings to every curve, the trailing tail of tulle fabric brushing the marble floor. Her brown and golden blond hair’s twisted into a sleek bun, her smile polished.
She greets her parents and her brother. Then a man slides an arm around her waist, pulling her close.
My fingers tighten around my glass. He whispers in her ear, drawing a smile from her. My blood goes hot.
Lucinda presses against me, voice husky. “You don’t want to kill him here, do you?”
“No.” My jaw clenches. Soon I’ll get my hands on him.
Lucinda is aware of my past with Serenity. And blames her for my cold, dead heart that will never let another woman in to break it.
Serenity’s gray eyes find me across the ballroom. And she freezes. Her upper lip twitches, like she’s pissed.
“Come on.” I drag Lucinda along.
“Why are you here?” Serenity’s voice lashes across the room as soon as we’re close enough.
A dozen memories hit me at once: her gold-painted mouth wrapped around my cock, her legs tangled with mine, her nails raking down my back. I swallow it down. “I attend every year. Your parents seem happy you’ve decided to grace them with your presence.”
“Lucinda, this is Serenity Cichello,” I say flatly.
Lucinda offers her hand. “Nice to meet you, Serenity.”
Serenity doesn’t take it. She gives a razor smile. “Lucy, I hope you’re enjoying the party.”
“It’s Lucinda,” I correct.
Her jaw ticks. “Kobi, this is Nico Pitucco—and Lucy.”
“Kobi,” the lanky bastard says in a thick Italian accent, offering his hand to shake.
I disregard his hand. “When do you return to Italy, Colby Jack?”
He chuckles. “Not anytime soon.”
“You left five years ago and came back with this guy,” I sneer at her.
I don’t know what to call the asshole who has his hands on what doesn’t belong to him.
Serenity curls closer to him. “Nico, Kobi’s my man.”
