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“In a minute.”
His tone makes me pause.
“I have something for you,” he says, taking a flat, narrow box from the dresser. He flips it open, revealing a ruby and diamond choker. “Turn around.”
Obeying, I say, “That looks expensive.”
He walks up behind me. “It is.”
“What if I lose it?”
He drapes the necklace around my neck and secures the clasp. “You won’t. The fastening system is secure.”
I trace the ridges of the big ruby in the center. “Fabien said you’d get something on loan. I don’t want to take unnecessary risks.”
Brushing a thumb over my shoulder, he says, “It’s not on loan. It’s yours.”
I turn around quickly. “Why?”
His expression becomes closed-off. He shrugs, the gesture casual, but the energy underlying his demeanor is strained. “It goes with your dress.”
The reply disappoints me. What did I expect? For him to look at me as someone he doesn’t hate? Not for the first time, I wonder how things would’ve been if my dad had simply allowed us to get married. If he’d honored the deal, would Angelo and I have had a chance at happiness? If my family didn’t kill his and he didn’t kill mine, could we have looked at each other differently? Will I ever see approval in his eyes instead of contempt?
He steps away. “You’ll find matching earrings on the dresser.” Backtracking to the bathroom, he adds, “I need a shower. I’ll be ready in ten.”
The earrings are as classically beautiful as the necklace with a big ruby surrounded by smaller diamonds. I fit the earrings and dab perfume on my wrists. I wish I had a phone to check on Sophie. I wouldn’t mind calling my family either. Angelo only let me speak to Ryan that once.
Exactly ten minutes later, he enters the room dressed in a bespoke suit cut to the latest fashion. The pants and jacket are fitted, showing off his muscular shape. A crisp white shirt and black bowtie round off the outfit.
He offers me his arm. “Shall we?”
The cocktail party is hosted in the big ballroom. The guests are dressed in flamboyant evening gowns and tuxedos. My mom would’ve approved. Angelo takes two glasses of champagne from a waiter and offers me one.
“Thank you,” I say, scanning the crowd, not that I’ll find any familiar faces. My dad never introduced me or anyone in our close family to the players in his business circles. The reason why he took such pains to keep his professional and private lives apart leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Whatever happened to Daisy and Laura, my dad’s second family? How is Mom coping with that?
“All right?” Angelo asks softly in my ear, brushing a thumb down my spine.
I shiver. “Can I have a phone?”
“No.” He sips his champagne, keeping his gaze trained on the partygoers. “You shouldn’t ask when you know the answer.”
“Can we call Heidi?” I stare at his profile, noticing the straight line of his nose, the high cheekbone, and the square jaw. “I just want to know how Sophie is doing.”
His eyes soften marginally as he turns his face toward me. “She’ll be fine. You have to stop worrying about her.”
“What about my family?”
The warmth vanishes from his gaze. “What about them?”
“Will you let me call them again?”
“If you behave.” He brings the glass to his lips, watching me with an intense, dark look as he swallows. “You better put your best foot forward tonight.”
A lump lodges in my throat, pulsing there with suppressed anger. “Do you expect me to embarrass you?”
His lips quirk. “I’ll put nothing past you.”
Before I can reply, a group of people descend on us. Angelo introduces me to everyone as Mrs. Russo, his newly acquired wife. I swallow my dislike at being portrayed as a possession, which, in truth, I am.
