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“The party’s in full swing downstairs,” he says. “Mom sent me to escort you.”
His tone is a clear indicator of what he thinks of his mother’s recommendation. Knowing Martina, he didn’t have much of a choice. I get to my feet and Christian’s gaze is drawn to my dress. There’s pure longing in his eyes as he scans the length of my body, from my bare toes to my neck. I had the dress custom-made for the engagement party. It’s a Marilyn Monroe-esque gown that hugs my every curve, in blue fabric the color of my eyes. I smooth the dress over my hips, a little self-conscious as Christian’s gaze continues to coast over me. I’m not dumb enough to be oblivious to the hunger in his expression.
“You look beautiful,tesoro,” Christian says. “You always look beautiful.”
I beam at the compliment. This man has no idea just how much power he wields over me.
“Thank you. Now, come on. Let’s get to the party. Best not to keep our adoring fans waiting.” I flutter my eyelashes in his direction.
He smirks, clearly amused. But he doesn’t say a word, waiting patiently as I grab my silver stilettos and settle down on my bed to tie the buckle. Christian kneels in front of me instead, stealing the breath from my lungs and surprising me when he does the buckles for me. My eyes track every moment, every time his hand brushes against my bare skin.
This tension is going to melt us.
When he stands up, he helps me to my feet and gives me his arm. The entire party quiets as soon as we walk through the doors leading into the room. Contrary to what I told Christian, I didn’t go overboard and invite every socialite in the state of New York. But I did invite some of my college friends, a few people in society I’m sure would have been affronted if they had not received an invite, and our close friends and family. The silence dissipates just as quickly as it appeared, with everyone mingling, doing what they do best. We’re approached by several people wanting to congratulate us on our engagement.
Christian’s perfectly polite, calm, and poised as he answers all the questions. He’s a business man through and through. I could just as easily see him as the CEO of some conglomerate if he wasn’t the Don. People respect him, and while I’m sure fear is the motivating factor for that respect, it’s highly efficient. Half the men want to be him, half the women want to be with him, and yet I’m the woman he chooses to have on his arm. I can’t deny that it fills me with a rush.
Eventually, we make our way to my family. My parents were in the process of speaking to the elites in the room but they give us their attention as we approach.
“Mom, Dad,” I greet, my tone casual.
I haven’t seen my father in more than a month and I haven’t seen Mom since she left Christian’s house after telling me to marry him. My dad has practically been ignoring my existence since I moved in here. I want to believe it’s because he feels guilty, which he really should. I would never be in this position if it wasn’t for him.
“Hey, baby,” my mom says warmly.
“Sweetheart,” my dad adds, shifting forward with his arms outstretched for a hug.
I grant it, because there’s no way in hell I’m making a scene in front of all these people. We have to keep up all pretenses. Never show weakness in the face of uncertainty. And right now, I have no idea what my relationship is with my parents. I return to Christian’s side and his hand briefly touches my wrist, the gesture almost comforting. Then he’s looking at them.
“Lucas,” he says to my father. “How pleasant to see you here.”
There’s an air of superiority in Christian’s voice I will never attain. He completely considers himself to be above literally everyone else. And I’m a damaged person because I find that absolutely sexy.
“D’Angelo,” my dad greets with a nod. “It’s good to see you, too. Dany looks well. I’m glad you’ve been taking care of her.”
“Of course. Somebody has to have her best interests at heart,” Christian drawls.
My heart squeezes because I realize all the animosity is because of me. He doesn’t approve of what my parents did, which is weird because he’s one who benefits from the situation. Or is it the other way around? Regardless, my dad’s eyes narrow and his jaw clenches.
“Right. I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually. Important business,” dad states.
Christian’s expression is bland as he stares at him. “It’s my engagement party, Lucas.”
“Like I said, it’s important. I’m sure Daniella will be able to spare you for a few minutes.”
Wanting to defuse the tension, I nod once at Christian.
“Go. It’ll be nice to spend a few minutes of the party without your insufferable ass,” I tease, lowering my voice so my parents can’t hear.
His lips curve slightly. “Don’t talk to anyone that seems like they’re in the outfit except Carlo. The capos might be loyal to me but I don’t want them talking shit to you.”
“Yes, yes, I got it. Now shoo.”
He walks away after one last look at me and I’m left standing awkwardly with my mother. Damn, I really survived twenty-two years with this woman only for our relationship to be fractured now? I don’t even know how to talk to her.
Mom opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted when a flash of blonde hair barrels into me. I let out a grunt, instinctively wrapping my arms around Zoey. She laughs. One look at her face and I sigh softly.
“How much have you had to drink, Zoe?” I question, interlocking her arms.
