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I force a smile at him as he takes the seat beside mine. “Good evening.” My gaze darts to the two massive guards standing a couple of feet behind us. Did he really think it necessary to bring his security detail to our engagement party? I guess so. After all, we’re not married. The deal between my father and the Russians is not yet sealed.
Apparently, a polite greeting is all we have to say to each other. Nik’s attention focuses on the men who come up to talk with him. Mine drifts around the elegantly decorated room overflowing with flowers, champagne, and over-the-top expensive decorations.
The entire scene screams of extensive wealth and questionable taste. It tells everyone here tonight that the Pontrelli family, my family, is one of new money, influence, and power.
I catch sight of Arianna with our younger sister, and cousin Ravenna, across the room. As I watch them, Ginevra swipes a Prada clutch from one of the tables and wraps it in her shawl. Her movements are so smooth and quick that if I’d blinked, I would have missed it.
Inwardly, I sigh.
My lips press into a thin line and I subtly shake my head. One of these days, she’s going to get caught and there will be hell to pay. I’m not sure what’s wrong with Gin, or why she steals. When I’ve confronted her about it before, she said she does it for the thrill, the rush of the danger of potentially getting caught. Honestly, I think she’s simply seeking attention.
A set of broad shoulders in a black suit catches my attention, dragging my gaze away from my sisters and cousin. At first, I’m not sure what drew me to this particular man, he’s one of many in a sea of men dressed in dark formal wear. Then he turns and I immediately recognize him.
Roman De Luca. His perfectly styled dark hair is trimmed shorter on the sides than the top. The shadow of stubble shades the lower half of his face which boasts a straight nose, strong jaw, and lush lips. He’s gorgeous in an aristocratically roguish kind of way.
All I really know about him is that he’s an extremely wealthy business associate of my father, everyone finds him mysterious, and despite his good looks he’s an absolute monster.
I’ve heard he owns a major shipping company, but I doubt that’s the extent of dealings. He’s probably deeply involved with smuggling illegal goods into the country, although I don’t know for sure. Because of his business, and ruthless tactics, he’s earned a few whispered nicknames: Poseidon and King of the Sea among them. People say that if you cross him, your shipment will end up at the bottom of the ocean. Some even think he controls the tides and the storms.
I think they’re crazy. He’s a man, not a God.
Though when his stony gaze collides with mine, the rest of the room seems to fall away. The conversations all around hush, growing faint, and my pounding heartbeat fills my ears. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. My breath is caught in my throat as his eyes bore so deeply into mine that I swear he’s looking straight into my soul.
I can’t breathe. I can’t look away. And I don’t dare blink.
He holds me captive, mesmerized like a snake charmer. Or perhaps like a lion staring back at his petrified prey.
My lips part, and his gaze falls to my mouth, breaking the spell between us. I close my eyes and suck in a much-needed breath of air, trying to regain my composure. When I open them, he’s gone, leaving me wondering if I imagined the entire experience.
“Sophia.”
I startle, glancing up at my fiancé. “Sorry. What?”
Nik shakes his head and sighs. “I was saying that we should dance. Come.” He reaches out and I take his hand. Standing, I glance around the room one more time for Roman but he’s nowhere in sight.
On the dance floor, Nik takes my hand and places the other on my waist. We move in time to a slow song.
“You look very nice tonight,” he says, holding me closer. His huge palm envelopes a good portion of my ribcage.
“So do you. Very handsome.” I smile politely up at him.
“I do wish you’d worn a different color dress though, maybe something blue or green. It would look better with your dark hair than this red color. Plus, red makes you look cheap. Like a whore.”
My cheeks heat, but my steps never falter. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”
The four dates I’ve had with Nik in the past nine months have taught me that he always speaks his mind. Which I appreciate. Honesty is a good, rare trait in a man, from what I’ve heard. Sometimes, I just wish he wasn’t quite so blunt with his hurtful opinions.
“Wear blue next time. It won’t make your hair look so red under the lights.” His hand skims lower, to the curve of my ass, as if testing my boundaries. “This red dress makes men think impure thoughts… You’re still a virgin for me, aren’t you,moy angel?”
I swallow hard as his fingers dig into my butt cheek. “Of course.” It is one of the terms in our betrothal contract. I am to remain a virgin until my wedding night with Nik. If I’m not, then our engagement is called off—along with whatever deal he’s brokered with my father.
The song comes to an end, and Nik releases me. He leads us back to the table, his expression neutral, like he didn’t just grab my ass in front of everyone.
I take my seat and pick up a piece of warm bread from the basket. I open my mouth to take a bite, when Nik snatches it away.
“Excuse me?” I say in protest, drawing attention from the nearby tables. I plaster a smile on my face to mask my outrage.
“You don’t need that, my darling.” He dumps the breadbasket on a passing waiter’s tray. “You don’t want to get fat. Honestly, your mother’s ass is big enough for the both of you. I don’t want my wife to turn into that.”
