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“But, look at him! He’s got dimples when he laughs.”
I glance over at the man standing next to the food table, conversing with one of the guests. He’s in his early twenties, with short blond hair and a really nice smile.
“You go.” I nod toward the cutie who’s captured her interest. “I’ll wait for you here.”
Catalina giggles, winks at me, and rushes to the tables laden with food. She approaches the cute waiter and starts to flirt, and for a moment, I wish I were able to do the same. Too bad I only have eyes for one man.
I look toward the opposite side of the garden where Luca is sitting with my grandfather and Lorenzo Barbini, my nonno’s underboss. They seem to be discussing business, not really paying too much attention to the festive atmosphere around them. Luca hasn’t even glanced my way since he got here, which is nothing new.
It wasn’t always like this. When I was little, I’d run across the lawn the moment I saw him arrive. He would catch and spin me around when I jumped into his arms, making me squeal in delight. But he stopped doing that the summer I turned thirteen.
I remember that day as if it happened yesterday. The moment I saw him exiting his car, I dashed outside and ran across the driveway to him. He didn’t open his arms to catch me that day. Instead, he just brushed his hand down my hair and went inside the house. That’s all I got during his next few visits—a light brush of my hair. I guess he decided I was too old for spinning around, or maybe that it wasn’t proper. Then, even those light stokes of my hair stopped. In the last few years, I was left with simply watching him from a distance.
Like now.
“Isabella!”
I throw a look over my shoulder to find Enzo, Catalina’s idiot cousin, barreling in my direction.
“Shit,” I murmur and turn around, intending to head inside the house. Before I can make my escape, he comes around and steps into my path.
“So beautiful.” He wraps his hand around my wrist and bends his head to rest on mine, inhaling as he does so. “And smelling like flowers.”
“Leave me alone, Enzo.” I try to wriggle free, but his grip is strong, and he pulls me tighter.
“Oh, come on, Isa! Why are you always acting like an iceberg?”
“Enzo! You’re drunk!” I look around, searching for Andrea or anyone else who could get me away from him. There are dozens of guests milling across the garden, but no one is close enough to come to my aid. I could yell, but I don’t want to make a scene because there are too many important people here tonight.
“Of course, I am.” He laughs. “It’s your eighteenth birthday. It's only natural to drink to that, yeah? Come on, let me give you a birthday kiss.”
“Get away from me.” I sneer and try to wiggle away again.
“But it’s just one kiss. Come on, Isa, don’t be such a—”
He stops midsentence, his eyes focusing on something behind me, then he tilts his head up until his gaze stops well above my own. The color in his face starts rapidly draining. A hand adorned with a thin, white gold wedding band reaches from behind me and wraps around Enzo’s wrist in a vice-like grip. Enzo lets go of me, but the newcomer’s long, strong fingers squeeze the idiot’s wrist tighter until he whimpers. I don’t pay attention to Enzo. My heartbeat picks up as I stare at the twobracelets encircling the other person’s wrist. One is a wide silver cuff and the other a black leather band. I bought both with my pocket money five years ago and gave them to him. I didn't know he actually wore them.
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my racing heart from exploding as I move my eyes from the bracelets back to the wedding band on his finger. Something dies in me again, just like the first time I saw the ring on his hand.
“Touch her again,” Luca’s smooth, whiskey-like voice says above me, “and you die.”
Enzo nods maniacally and whimpers again. “Yes, Mr. Rossi.”
“Get lost,” Luca barks and releases Enzo’s hand.
I stare at Enzo’s back as he runs toward the gate. I don’t dare face my savior. If I do, I might fall apart. Until this morning, I still believed there might be a small chance I would get to be with Luca someday. That sliver of hope evaporated the moment my father informed me that he agreed to give my hand in marriage to Angelo Scardoni, the youngest of my grandfather’s capos, when I turn twenty-one. I always knew I would end up in an arranged marriage because it was the only option for the Cosa Nostra don’s granddaughter, but I still hoped.
“Everything okay, tesoro?”
“Yes.” I nod, keeping my eyes fixed on the gate. “Thank you, Luca.”
“If he pesters you again, let me know.”
“I will.”
“Okay.” There’s a slight touch at the back of my head as if he lightly brushed my hair. “Happy birthday, Isabella.”
I wait until I no longer feel Luca behind me, then turn around slowly and watch him as he walks away, leaving me to stand with an overload of emotions brewing within, with nowhere to go. Something squeezes in my chest. I wonder how it would feel to have him walking toward me for once. Maybe start a meaningless conversation, even if it’s only in passing. This is the most we’ve spoken to each other in the past two years. I’ve often feared he’s forgotten I exist.
