A heavy groan slips past my lips before I can censor it. Rosalia cuts her eyes to me, casting me a stern warning glance that silences me on the spot. Then, she straightens her spine, the impenetrable, elegant persona sliding effortlessly back into place over her features.
“Come on, girls,” she commands smoothly, adjusting the heavy diamonds at her throat. “Let’s go socialize.”
Camilla, Daniela and I exchange one last small smile, falling into step right behind her. We follow her into the glittering crowd like we always do, moving as a unit into the lions' den.
One hour later and I’m already dead inside. My feet ache, my fake smile feels plastered onto my skin, and I desperately need to leave, but the party is still going strong.
My mind drifts away from the mind-numbing party, flashing back to the other night when Alessandro snuck into my room, bleeding and reckless. He said he needed my help to get into the Belvedere party. He even threatened me when I dared to refuse him.
So where the hell is he?
I sub-consciously press my arm against my side, feeling the crisp, stiff edge of the Belvedere invitation hidden safely within the satin folds of my dress. I risked everything to sneak it out of my father's study just before we left the house tonight.
A sharp buzz splits the interior of my evening bag. I absentmindedly reach inside and pull out my phone. Across from me, Rosalia is seamlessly introducing Camilla and Daniela to an older woman draped in an ostentatious red gown.
Rosalia's sharp eyes catch my drifting gaze, but I quickly turn away, staring down at the screen. I don't have a single drop of socializing left in me tonight.
The text on the screen catches my attention, making my breath hitch:
I’m outside. Let’s move.
I frown, a sudden, frantic gallop starting up in my chest. I know it’s Alessandro. I never gave the bastard my number, but I’m not surprised he has it.
Feigning ignorance, I type back:who is this?
His response is nearly instantaneous, the blue bubble popping up before I can even lock the screen.
Don’t test me Sienna. Do I have to kill someone? Come outside.
I narrow my eyes at the screen, absolutely hating the dangerous thrill of excitement that sparks in my bones at his arrogance.
Swallowing down the feeling, I text back.
The politest thing to do when you’re texting someone for the first time is to introduce yourself.
He doesn't play along. His next text sets butterflies afloat in my belly.
Outside. Now.
I roll my eyes, sliding the phone back into my clutch. When I look up, I see Rosalia already breaking away from the group and approaching me, her assessing eyes scanning my face.
Good. I need a way out of here, and my plan is simple: I'm going to lie to my father, tell him I unexpectedly got my period, and claim I have to go home immediately.
If there’s anyone in this entire family who knows how to navigate Massimo's strict rules and help me sell a story like that, it’s Rosalia.
Time to leave this treacherous party.
CHAPTER NINE
ALESSANDRO
The leather of the backseat is cold against my spine, but the fire in my blood hasn't cooled since Sienna’s room. Fucking hell, it’s been three days and I’m still stuck there. Sitting on that bed. Feeling her hands on me. The way she touched herself.
I sit in the shadows of the tinted windows, my dark tailored suit hiding the tight stitches in my forearm. Up front, Valerio rests his hands on the steering wheel, his profile completely unimpressed as he stares through the windshield. He doesn’t like what I’m about to do. Ask me if I care.
Outside, luxury cars are winding slowly around the grand, circular driveway of the DeLorenzo estate. Through the glass, I watch the guests. People are drifting about the manicured lawns, smiling, laughing, drinking champagne from crystal flutes, and talking to each other like normal people. Everyone here has their hands soaked with blood.
Like me.
