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"Via?" He drags his fingers down my biceps to hold me above my elbows. His fingertips dig into my skin. Pain shivers up my nerve endings, cutting through the noise in my head.
"What are you doing here?" His scowl deepens.
"What amIdoing here?" Anger flushes my veins. "What areyoudoing here?"
He tilts his head, and the skin around his eyes tightens. "This is my engagement party."
The world tilts. "Your engagement party?" I glance past him to where my sister stands at the head of the crowd. She’s wearing a simple white dress, so virginal, so pure. So everything I am not. A smile curves her lips, and she glances from me to her would-be fiancé. The man who is my ex-lover.
The one who asked me to marry him before I turned my back on him. The man who is now going to marry my sister.
A sense of inevitability grips me. Of course, it had to be this way. Of course, the man I fell for is the one my sister is promised to. My stomach chooses that moment to bottom out. The sickness boils up my gullet, my guts contract and I throw up all over his tailor-made jacket.
18
Massimo
"Oh, God, I’m so sorry." She raises stricken eyes to my face. Gorgeous green eyes that are burned into my brain. Her color is pale, and her cheekbones are prominent—more prominent than when I last saw them. She hadn’t been this thin then. She also didn’t have the scar that curves from eyebrow to cheek. A scar that only adds to her allure. She’s the Queen of Sheba. She’s Helen of Troy. Cleopatra herself, reborn to taunt my dreams and get under my skin and make my life a living hell.
I reach out my hand, wanting to touch the marred skin, but she turns her head. She wipes the back of her hand across her mouth, steps away, only to sway again. I tighten my grip on her arms and she shivers.
"Let me go," she says in a low voice.
"No."
"You need to clean up your jacket."
"Fuck that."
"You can’t get engaged wearing my puke."
I firm my lips. She has a point there. I’m here for my engagement. To theCamorraprincess, who is waiting for me to join her. I should release her and return to my future bride. A heavy sensation grips my chest. It has nothing to do with meeting this woman who turned my life upside down, then walked away from me.
"You never answered my question," I growl.
She tips up her chin. "Which one?"
"Why are you here, Via?"
"It’s my sister’s engagement party."
"Your sister?" I whip my head around to find my fiancée-to-be watching us with curious eyes. "She’s your sister?"
"Yes, and I’m going to make sure you don’t hurt her. If this is some ruse to get me back—"
"Get you back? You’re the one who told me you were in love with another man.” I turn around and glare at her. “Has that changed?"
She seems to grow even more pale. "No." She shakes her head. "That hasn’t changed."
My chest feels like it’s been split wide open.Goddamn.Granted, I barely knew her before I fell for her. It had been stupid of me to ask her to marry me when she was laid up in the hospital with the injury that scarred her. I should have waited for her to recover, but seeing her helpless in the hospital bed, and so dejected at the thought that she would be permanently disfigured, ignited something inside me. I wanted to go after the assholes who did this to her. I wanted to reassure her that nothing could ever detract from her beauty. I wanted to tell her she didn’t have to worry about the scar because I’d always find her to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Instead, I asked her to marry me. I asked her to marry me, and she told me she was in love with another man.
I tighten my hold on her, then glance over my shoulder. My gaze connects with Adrian, who nods. He walks toward me, then turns around to face the crowd.
"We need a little time for Massimo to clean up."
A buzz of conversation instantly fills the air.
"Can we start the music again, please?" I hear him say. A second later, the strains of opera music, which had been streaming over the speakers before her interruption, fill the air.
