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“I didn’t think they would actually come,” I ground out between gritted teeth, my lips barely moving as the two people I never wanted to see again stared back at us. My gaze flicked to the other side of the room as we glided past them, not wanting to give them another moment of my time. The two of them were honestly lucky to even be alive at this point. I might’ve saved them once but never again. I wouldn’t step in if they made fools of themselves tonight. They lost any claim on being my parents the night they abandoned me, the night they disowned me as their daughter.
“They are your parents after all, and with us moving back, they should at least be present for our engagement party,” he murmured, guiding us along without a look back. The cruelty was gone from his voice when he brought it up this time, and my mind revisited our conversation in the car from when we first drove through town. Then he’d wanted to throw them being invited to the wedding as a way to hurt me. But I caught the note of disdain in his tone at their inclusion, leading me to believe this was more his parents’ sentiment than his own. The irony was that he’d been ready and willing to kill them for laying a finger on me before we left for New York—when he’d now done the same thing, leaving a mark much worse than they ever did.
I didn’t bother fighting him, knowing it wouldn’t do any good, not if it was something his father had declared and not when I was so close to leaving. He could have whoever he wanted, because there wouldn’t be a wedding if everything went according to plan—or at least what little I had of a plan. I did a double check on my posture as I knew exactly where we were heading now. It would be disrespectful not to see his parents as soon as I got here, especially since they were hosting the party. My stomach twisted at the thought of seeing them again, but I held my head high, not letting any emotion slip past my mask. It was a tight line I had to walk with his father, respectful yet not weak. I couldn’t show any of that threatening glare I’d been clinging to, not with Angelo Barone.
He stood near a grand fireplace on the opposite side of the entrance, allowing him and his guards a view of everyone around them. Nothing would escape their keen eyes, and I was now sure they’d also seen everything that happened with the waiter. I swallowed thickly as he came into view, past his crowd of gathered admirers pandering to his every wish, tendrils of fear skittering up my spine as his mahogany eyes latched on to me. His gaze was so similar to his son’s, I couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran over my skin at this attention.
Angelo Barone was one man you didn’t want taking an interest in you. Unfortunately, as someone close to their family, it meant I was subjected to that cold, calculating glare more deeply than most. That was one of the good things about New York, we were far enough away I hadn’t been subjected to his scrutiny very often.I won’t have to deal with this for much longer. I can get through tonight,I reminded myself, not allowing my mind to swirl out of control with thoughts of the future. I could do this, I could deal with this for one night, and tomorrow I would be gone. His leer slithered over my skin, taking in every inch as though it was him and not Tommaso I was meant to marry. My lips twitched as they attempted to pull down into a grimace but I caught myself just in time. Tommaso’s hand tightened on my waist like he too noticed his father’s attention, but he would never say anything, never stop him if his father ever tried anything.
Glancing around the gathered crowd, I spotted Rosa Barone, Tommaso’s mother, perched gracefully on one of the burgundy wingback chairs settled near the fireplace, smiling serenely as though she was holding court for all her adoring fans. Her beaded navy floor-length gown spilled out around her feet, acting as a barrier between her and the women crowded nearby.
Most would see a wealthy woman enjoying the company of those who looked up to her for her money and power, envisioning her life as their own. But I saw the truth, I saw those subtle sideways glances, where she just needed a second to breathe without the suffocating presence of the so-called friends who would stab her in the back in a heartbeat. I could see the vacant look behind those tawny eyes, retreating so far into herself to drown out the attention, the pain, the soul-wrenching despair as this life threw her through the ringer. Her name was supposed to mean rose, a sweet and delicate flower flourishing into full bloom, but the years had sucked that from her until she became merely a stem adorned in thorns, a shadow of her former self.
Maybe it was the same as with the statue and I interpreted her pain as my own, a kindred need to flee, to break free from the control, the abuse. But I didn’t think so. Not when I’d seen the barest light flicker in her just to be extinguished in the next moment by Angelo. Not with the waiter poised next to her just as the man at the front had asked to do for me, polishing off the glasses of champagne almost as fast as he could pass them to her, using alcohol to numb the pain of her existence she’d never escape—the same road I’d felt myself stranded on before I woke up a few weeks ago.
“Leave us,” Angelo bellowed simply, cutting off what another man was about to say. No one argued though, the men and women scattering, as though Angelo would put a bullet between their eyes if they hung around for a moment longer, which honestly was a possibility. He didn’t wait for us to approach, instead he turned to the fireplace and sat on the chair on the opposite side as Rosa. They looked as though they were the king and queen, the servants and court surrounding them in the castlesque building. Even the waiter with the tray filled with flutes of bubbly retreated as Angelo sat, much to Rosa’s dismay. “We need to have a chat about your behavior, Giana, and your position in this family,” Angelo addressed me, venom coating his every word, cocking a brow in silent challenge, daring me to speak against him. But judging by the slight curl to his lips, he knew I wouldn’t. No one would stand up to him and even fathom living to tell the tale.
The guards stood with their backs to us, keeping a barrier around us and the guests. No one could hear us, not with his murmured tone pitched so low to draw you in closer just for him to slit your throat. Although they couldn’t hear the conversation, I could tell by the furtive glances they were casting our way they had no intention of not watching, trying to glean whatever they could for an advantage.
“You ruined my plans, Giana,” he said cryptically, his tone dark yet his face bored. “I’d kill most people for interfering in my business deals, you know?”
Rosa silently sipped on her champagne, nursing this one as if she needed to prolong every sip just for something to distract her.
“Yes,” I breathed, knowing from experience that it was always best to answer Angelo, even when he was being rhetorical.
“Do you know why I haven’t killed you?” he asks. And my lips parted, about to answer, but he cut me off. “Because you foolishly walked right into our plan. Sure it was nice to have my son further our business in the city, but the plan was always for you both to come home, and now we can all be one happy family,” he concluded, clapping his hands together as though because he decreed it, it would be so.
A shiver of fear ran up my spine at the look he gave me as the waiter rushed back in to refill everyone’s glasses. The waiter frowned at my still full glass before continuing on to Rosa, who greedily downed the few remaining drops before shoving her glass toward him impatiently.
There was a reason I never wanted to spend any time alone with the man in front of me, why even Tommaso never left me alone with him. My stomach turned at the leering look he gave me as he lifted his glass, prompting us to do the same. Tommaso pulled me closer and for once this evening, I was glad to have him by my side if it kept his father from putting his hands on me.
“Cheers, and welcome to the family. I have so much planned for the two of you,” he announced, his mahogany eyes glinting with a malice I hadn’t even seen in Tommaso’s yet, and dread sank like a leaden weight in my gut. But I pressed the crystal glass to my lips and sipped at the crisp bubbly, only allowing a few drops to slide down my throat.
I had to stay on guard tonight, even more than I’d thought before, especially with the keen intrigue glittering in Angelo’s eyes and the malicious grin curling on his lips as his own flute lowered.
My chest tightened as panic gripped me. The only thing keeping me sane at this moment was the idea of escaping tomorrow, because I knew I’d never survive the torment Angelo was ready to unleash if I stayed.
Chapter fifteen
Giana
Now
“Whydon’tyourelax,mi amore?” Tommaso murmured in my ear, his hot breath washing over the sensitive skin and the small amount of food I was able to force down now churning in my stomach. I internally cringed, unable to jerk back, knowing all eyes were on us. Angelo had set up a head table before all the others in the massive ballroom, and of course it was poised on a platform, making the four of us the spectacle while everyone ate.
Thankfully I was sitting at the end of the table with Tommaso beside me and his father and mother next to him. I wasn’t sure I could’ve forced myself to choke down anything if I was beside his father. I pushed his lingering stares out of my mind and forked up another bite of the creamy mashed potatoes. Though I was sure they were supposed to have flavor, they tasted like ash on my tongue as my other senses were on high alert.
My champagne sat close to me, and I didn’t dare to take another sip out of fear a waiter would come to refill my glass. Taking a flute at the door was one thing—no one knew which one I would take or even when I was going to show up—but now I couldn’t trust anything that was put in front of me, which was another reason why I barely ate any food.
“I am relaxed,” I whispered back, my hand covering my lips to mask our conversation. He just stared back at me with a pointed look, silently calling out my lie. I hate that he could see through me, that he knew me at all. I wished I could just forget the past six years, but I couldn’t, because they weren’t something I could take back no matter how hard I tried. “Maybe I’d be able to relax if we weren’t the entertainment,” I ground out, pushing some more food around my plate before taking a hesitant bite of my steak. I had to walk a thin line right now, between not wanting to eat, and the possibility of offending Angelo.
“Oh, Giana.” Tommaso chuckled, his hand rubbing circles on my back in an attempt to comfort me, but the gesture only put me further on edge. I stabbed another piece of meat with my fork just to avoid skewering his thigh with the sharp prongs. “Everyone’s here to celebrate us and our love, not to judge. So relax and enjoy the party.”
I forced a smile on my lips, hoping he believed the weak attempt and swallowed the laugh choking me right now. The entire thought was preposterous, not only was there no love between us, only possession and infatuation, these people were not here to celebrate. They were here either out of fear or responsibility to his parents. Either it was an attempt to climb the social ladder or avoid being found in an alley. I forced my fork to my lips, his hand still resting on the exposed skin between my shoulder blades, setting my teeth on edge.
I sighed a breath of relief as the waiter came back out and began collecting plates. Others began to push back from their tables, and I decided to do the same. I had to get out of here for a minute at least, otherwise I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep what little composure I still clung to for much longer. As soon as the waiter came by the table, I lifted my plate for him, ignoring the quizzical look he gave me at the barely eaten food.
“Please excuse me,” I said loud enough for his parents to hear me and began to slip off my chair, grabbing my clutch off my lap.
