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I took the hand Lorenzo offered and shook it. His hand was warm, but it was a degree colder than I expected.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I ventured.
“And you,Signorina Ferrari,”he said, not a single genuine note in his voice. He let go of my hand, as quickly as he had taken it, at the same time his eyes landed on mine, looking away a second earlier than I had.
“These are my brothers, Caio and Sandro. And you’ve already met Gabe,” Nico said, gesturing to each of the young men, two of whom were rather difficult to tell apart aside from the way they styled their hair.
Caio’s was cut close to his well-shaped head, whereas Sandro’s was perhaps shoulder-length, drawn back in an elastic at his nape.
The three men smiled warmly at me, though only Gabe seemed relaxed. Caio and Sandro were definitely the youngest in the family. While their backs were ramrod straight, their countenances were slightly turned to each other and they were muttering something to themselves, like they were memorizing something.
A woman walked into the foyer from the parlor beyond it. Slim and beautiful, with silvering dark hair knotted at the nape of her neck and emerald eyes I would have recognized anywhere. Instead of the steely glint that glittered in Nico’s eyes, there was a strength in hers I almost missed for the cloud of sadness in front of her irises.
The moment her gaze settled on me, my breath caught in my throat.
She looked at me, not with polite curiosity but with a spark of recognition that sent my heart racing. Had she seen me since I arrived in New York? Or did her recognition stem back further? The way she tilted her head just a little and she squinted like she was trying to bring me into focus made me fear she was reaching back further in her mind than the past few weeks.
My heart pounded ten times louder than the quiet footsteps of her approach.
Please don’t recognize me, I prayed. Not now. Not yet.
I was going to tell Nico everything after dinner. But if she made the connection now, in front of the entire Costa family, I had no way to predict what could happen.
I held several lungfuls of air in my chest.
She stared at me for a moment then glanced down to where Nico’s hand held mine.
“Mamma, this is Raven Ferrari,” Nico said when his mother had come to a stop.
There was something overly gentle in his voice. It was sweet, but it reminded me of the way a parent would speak to a fragile child.
Could he not see the strength in her eyes?
“Raven, this is my mother,SignoraVictoria Costa.”
She held out her hand, and I took it. Her skin was soft and warm, nothing like her husband’s. She gripped my hand tightly, like she was holding onto it rather than shaking it while she continued to stare at me. Could she feel my pounding pulse in my wrist?
“It’s nice to meet you, Raven.”
Not Sofia.I let out the breath Idefinitelyknew I was holding.
“It’s my pleasure,Signora Costa,” I said in the steadiest voice I could find.
“La cena è pronta,”an elderly man in a black uniform said, appearing from a door on the right and motioning for us to follow him into the dining room.
Thank God.I tried to hide the whooshing breath of relief. Maybe with the distraction of dinner and conversation, Victoria would abandon her attempt at placing me.
The large wood-paneled dining room smelled of basil and oregano, but the scents just turned my stomach.
A healthy distance was kept between the wing-backed chairs set around the table. Victoria and Lorenzo took their seats at the opposite ends of the table. The deep fissure of cold that tethered the two seemed to expand the length of the dark walnut table. The division was so tight, so potent that it sent a chill through the room.
Nico pulled out a chair for me, then sat down next to me. Gabe took the seat on my other side. Flanked by the Costa brothers, it should have put me at ease despite Lorenzo’s dark gaze, but the way Victoria continued to look at me kept me unnerved. My muscles were so taut it was a wonder I didn’t spring from my seat at every sound.
Fortunately, the scraping of serving spoons, the clatter of forks, and the quietglug, glugnoise as Gabe filled his wineglass to the brim were the only sounds that accompanied our food. Nico filled my glass and then his. As tempting as it was, it might have drawn unwanted attention if I downed the glass in one gulp.
It was too warm in here. Though my hands felt cold and clammy, the back of my neck was damp with perspiration. Lorenzo’s gaze on me was like two hot lasers on my face, but I didn’t dare look up. If Victoria recognized me, then certainly, her husband wouldn’t be far behind.
“Nico tells us you’re visiting New York,signorina.Where are you from originally?” he asked, but it felt like every word pierced right through me, digging deep like the lasers, searching below the surface for the truth.
