Page 44 of Read This Before the Villain falls in Love with You

She steps directly into his line of sight. "Let's skip the pleasantries."

"Nora Blake. Crisis management." She lifts a crystal flute from a passing silver tray, taking a slow sip. "I clean up colossal disasters created by men who draft statements like yours. Funny detail, really. The exact same three shell donors appear on every revised draft, and two of them trace right back to a Bellini holding group in Rome. Small world, isn't it?"

His face drains to the exact shade of overcooked veal. I watch him glance around for a graceful escape route and come up completely empty. Nora flashes a bright, razor-sharp grin and steps in closer so his closest allies can hear every syllable.

"You look pale, Commissioner." She studies him like a spreadsheet. "Is the room too warm?"

"I have urgent business elsewhere," he stammers. He tucks a napkin into his pocket.

A cold, razor-thin smile touches her lips. "Scrub those names before a reporter finds them. Or don't. I'm off the clock, and the seafood smells questionable anyway."

Ricci babbles an excuse about fresh air and practically runs toward the terrace. Matteo, lingering near a gilded pillar, catches my stare and silently mouths holy shit with wide eyes. I give him a microscopic nod of agreement.

"One down," Nora mutters, hooking her arm back through mine. "Who's next on your enemies list?"

"Greco," I whisper. "The one laughing too loud by the fountain."

"Oh, he's going to cry in five minutes," she promises happily.

I track her gaze across the crowd. "You're enjoying this entirely too much."

Nora angles her glass toward another huddle of men in tailored suits. "I am simply sanitizing your guest list. There is a massive technical difference."

"You're terrorizing public officials," I point out, amused despite myself.

"Precision," she corrects without missing a beat. "There is an art to ruining corrupt men before dinner."

She navigates us across the parquet floor toward our next victim. "Senator Greco. The one practically choking on his own laugh. He took sixty grand from Bellini's concrete subsidiary last spring. Watch and learn."

"Try to leave him his dignity," I offer dryly.

"Why start now?" she counters with a smirk.

"Senator Greco," Nora cuts in, stepping straight into his circle before the man finishes his punchline. "March fourteenth and April second. Two direct wire transfers from Bellini's concrete subsidiary into your wife's foundation in Lugano."

Greco chokes on his champagne, his laughter dying mid-throat as he clutches his stiff collar. Two associates beside him glance down at their phones and slip away without a word.

"How do you even remember those account numbers?" I ask quietly as we pause by the champagne station.

She takes another delicate sip. "I have a photographic memory for corporate fraud. And sheer spite helps with retention."

"You could do this professionally for our family," I comment, genuinely admiring the trail of psychological casualties behind us.

"I already do this for a living, Luca. Normal people just pay invoices on time instead of kidnapping me." She glances up, her amber eyes sparkling with adrenaline. "Stop staring at me like that."

Before I can reply, heavy jasmine perfume cuts through the air, aggressive and familiar. Sara Bellini steps directly into our path, sliding out from the crowd like she has been calculating the exact moment to strike.

Sara steps close enough that her crimson dress brushes my slacks. "Well, well. Look what the cat dragged into society."

She rests a manicured hand on my forearm, her dark eyes glinting with malice. "I was just telling Father how much I missed little Sofia's screams. Honestly, keeping her tied up in our basement was the most fun I had all year. Such delicate skin."

My jaw locks, fury surging through my veins as I stare down at her. "Careful, Sara. One more word and you won't leave this hall on your own two feet."

Sara laughs softly, running a crimson nail along the lapel of my jacket. "If you were smart enough to be with me, Luca, your pathetic siblings might actually live longer." She turns her sneer toward Nora. "And you must be the little English crisis manager. Did he bring you as a replacement? You look like you'd break even faster than his sister."

Nora steps forward without missing a beat, using the base of her champagne glass to knock Sara's fingers off my sleeve. "Nora Blake. And you must be the amateur who relies on cheap cruelty because you fail at basic strategy."

Sara stiffens, her smirk vanishing instantly. "Excuse me? Do you even know whose name I carry? You're a temporary foreign asset in a borrowed dress."