Page 207 of Ricardo

“It can be collected tomorrow,” Mario simply says.

Ricardo’s entire body rejects this. I can feel it in the air beside him, in the stillness of his hands, in the way his jaw tightens.

“I will walk her out,” Ricardo says tightly, but no outward sign that he objects.

Mario nods. “Yes. You leave the room together.”

Ricardo’s eyes return to him.

Mario’s voice lowers. “People saw you together all night. Let them see you leave together.”

The logic makes sense.

I hate that.

My parents are watching.

Everyone is watching.

If he disappears and I stay behind, I can explain it away that I arranged the event, but there will still be speculation on why he left early. We can't afford that right now.

So we leave together.

Except not really.

Victoria squeezes my arm once, then releases me.

“Text me when you’re home,” she says.

“I will.”

Mario’s attention is already shifting back to the room, back to Rusk, back to every moving piece he has to keep from colliding in public.

Ricardo turns to me.

Everything in his face changes when his eyes find mine. The violence disappears beneath the surface. What remains is concern, reluctance.

“I do not like this,” he says.

“I don’t either.

“If anything feels wrong, you call me.”

“You will be with Rusk.”

“Call me,” he emphasizes.

His hand lifts toward my face, then stops halfway because we are in a ballroom and my father is watching and Dante is standing three feet away with his jaw clenched hard enough to crack.

So Ricardo lowers his hand.

“I will not be far behind you.”

“That sounds physically impossible if you’re going somewhere else.”

His mouth twitches, but there is no humor in it. “Do not make me smile right now. I am trying to be angry.”

Dante looks away.