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The tension in the fancy ballroom is thick. All five of the big families are here to celebrate the “joyous” occasion. Everyone is salivating at the chance of seeing which family is stronger and who will come out on top. Who will win this particular war?
Watching my brother dance with his new wife, his smile strains. His bride, Aly Mancini, looks scared. I’m not sure if you can ever love someone who kidnapped you against your will. This is what my brother has done.
The arms race between the two families was just the start of the war that has revitalized itself. Yet everyone pretends it doesn’t exist at the surface. Tonight being a great example. It’s the whole “keep your friends close but your enemies closer” thing.
Unable to watch them anymore, I turn to Luna. “Where’s Gia?” I ask about our youngest sister. She shrugs, eyeing someone across the hall. The double standards that exist between her and me are like black and white. I get in trouble for kissing in a car, yet we all know about Luna’s extracurricular activities. She gets to fuck whoever she wants, as long as she keeps bringing in money with her gambling ring.
Luna stands up and starts stalking her prey for the night. I’m left sitting at the table by myself. Everyone else is out enjoying themselves. Rarely do all the families get together. I can’t get in the mood. Standing from the table, I go in search of my youngest sister.
Walking the perimeter of the floor, I see Gia is nowhere to be found. My father is busy smiling at the Mancinis while the other don glares at my father. It would have been funny if there wasn’t so much hostility in the air. Everyone is preoccupied with something. My mother is with her friends, and they’re all in a race for the first grandchild.
Slipping out of the doors, I attempt to bypass the guards. One stops me, and I show the tracker our father made us all wear. The guard asks his earpiece if there are eyes in the sky to keep tabs on me. Once I’m cleared, reluctantly, I’m allowed to stand close to the doors.
The night sky is full of stars. They’re lighting up the darkness more than normal. The temperature is warm but with a chilling wind that takes all of my heat. Standing behind a pillar, I hide in the shadows, having a moment to myself. There are drivers in cars waiting to be beckoned. No invited men linger out here, not wanting to miss any action on the inside. Everyone is on standby for the first display of violence.
“Shouldn’t your brother’s wedding be a joyous occasion?” Turning, I see Theo Fox is standing in the shadows. I can’t get away from this guy. Tonight, he’s wearing his uniform. He fills it out in all the right places. His muscular body is lean, fit, and agile, making his movements hard to detect. He looks arrogantly powerful as he stands with his legs spread apart, his arms crossed, staring at me.
“You realize you have no power in there?” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder.
He doesn’t respond, his mouth pinched as he stares at me.
“Why are you not in there?” Theo moves toward the column, leaning his shoulder against it, his legs crossing in a relaxed position.
“Looking for my sister.”
“Tell me the real reason,” he drawls in a deep tone that sounds seductive.
Neither of us should be out here. I need to turn my back and head inside, but I don’t. I’m caught up with wanting to answer his question. This time, my lips pinch, eyeing the gun that is attached to his hip.
“I’m hoping to stay out of sight, so no one remembers my father promised me to Marco.”
“Your lips didn’t feel like they belong to someone else.” He gives me a slightly cocky grin, his thumb brushing over his lower lip. My eyes trail his movements. My body instantly perks up with his attention on me.
“It’s a new situation since the last time I saw you.”
His eyes never waver from mine. He stands straight, his hand resting on his gun. It looks natural, and I doubt he realizes he keeps touching the black metal. “Marco, huh?”
I roll my eyes at his casualness, all while enjoying the bitterness of his tone. “That’s right.”
“You always follow the rules?”
My eyes shoot to his. I can’t tell if he’s flirting, trying to rile me up, or curious. Theo takes a step closer. Automatically, my feet want to match his steps, but I keep them still. He’s hovering over me. I have to tilt my head back to look into his inquisitive stare. His scent surrounds me, and he smells like spicy pepper and cedarwood.
His finger slides down my bare arm. The touch hardly skims my skin, but it feels intimate. I have to take a breath and step back before I find myself lost in his presence.
He takes another step forward, his lips curving in a crooked smirk. “You look beautiful. It’s a shame it’s wasted on an event that will only bring violence to the world.”
I’m surprised by how my chest swells with his compliment. I bottle up my emotions.
“Goodbye, Theo.” I turn away. I don’t want anyone to notice I was gone. His eyes are heavy on my back the whole time. I breathe in the fresh air, unclouding the feelings Theo seems to cause me. I can hear a low, deep chuckle behind me as I open the door to the wedding reception.
As I walk into the ballroom, Marco steps in front of me, blocking my path, “Aria.” Seeing him is like a splash of water to the face.
“Marco.” I smile and try to sidestep him. He grabs my hand and places it to his lips. Mine want to frown, and I cringe at the feeling of him on my skin.
“May I have this dance?” He’s already walking me to the dance floor, not waiting for my answer. I know within a year I’ll be married, even though I was hoping this complete nonsense would be forgotten about. He’s the one my father has chosen for me, even though he’s made it seem I chose. I’ve seen this song and dance before. Marco will court me for the men to be certain we’re the right match, meaning their business opportunities lay in the same area. Then, when they have a contract for whatever they’re trying to gain, we will marry. As much as I hate it, we are engaged. No man here will look at me, knowing what’s coming. Not that I mind they don’t look. I don’t want their attention.
He holds me close to his body but not flush. My mind should be thinking about how handsome Marco is, or that he is kind and our values line up, with what my father has told me about him. He’s an accountant, meaning he won’t be coming home with blood on his hands. He won’t be sent out to do the dirty work for my father. Instead, he will sit safely inside an office, coming home with paper cuts and tired eyes from being at the computer all day.
