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"I'm sorry, but I must go. Duty calls," I repeat, the words bitter on my tongue. Leaning down, I press one last longing kiss to her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent. My heart aches, even knowing this liaison was only ever a means to an end. I cannot afford emotional entanglements, no matter how alluring.
Straightening, I adjust my rumpled clothing and smooth back my hair. "I'll be gone for the night, so don't wait up." I give her the bait, knowing her reluctance to stay the night in my room. It won't be long before she retrieves her dress off my desk and the incriminating planted evidence.
With one final, burning glance at the beauty left waiting in my bed, I stride towards the door, my expression shuttering back into a mask of cold command.
Stepping into the hall, I close the door firmly behind me, blocking Clara from view. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I start down the corridor. This is the only way, I remind myself. If Clara takes the bait we have laid for her, it will confirm beyond any doubt that her loyalties lie with my enemies. I want so badly to trust her, but years in this dark underworld have taught me to suspect everyone, to anticipate betrayal around every corner. She needs to prove her devotion to me and the Ricci family, or suffer the consequences.
As eager as I am to gauge her reaction, I force myself to walk away at an unhurried pace. I cannot risk making her suspicious now. Keeping my expression impassive, I descend the grand staircase and make my way through the luxurious parlors towards my office.
Dante waits just inside the door, visibly tense as he turns to greet me. "Well?" he asks without preamble. Straight to business - one thing I appreciate about my cousin.
I shake my head slightly, allowing the barest hint of regret to show through my stoic mask. "It is done. Now we can only wait and observe her actions."
Dante scrutinizes my face a moment, perhaps detecting the conflicted emotions I keep locked away, hidden from prying eyes. But he simply nods.
No matter how convincingly Clara played the seduced lover tonight, I cannot assume it was anything more than an act on her part. Just one more deception in this deadly game between rival families.
"I will have eyes on her at all times," Dante continues briskly, all business once more. "If she takes the bait and tries to smuggle those documents out, we will know. And we will deal with her appropriately."
His hand comes to rest on his hip, near the holster housing his ever-present pistol. The unspoken threat hangs heavy between us. I know he only aims to protect me and the family. If Clara proves false, she will face the same fate as all other traitors. I ignore the pang in my chest at the thought and give a curt nod.
"See that you do. I will retire for the evening while you monitor her movements." I infuse just enough weariness into my tone to be believable. As skilled an actor as she may be, I have decades of experience over Clara. "Notify me the moment she does anything suspicious."
"Of course."
With a final querying look, Dante turns and leaves, his footsteps fading down the hall. Alone at last, I close my eyes and release a slow breath.
Sighing heavily, I press my palms into my eyes. My mind churns with doubts and suspicions, but I force myself to adopt the cool mask of detached command once more. Straightening my shoulders, I make my way to the drink cart and pour two fingers of rich amber liquor into a crystal glass. As the burn slides down my throat, I close my eyes, steadying my resolve.
No more second guessing. The next move belongs to Clara.
CHAPTER15
CLARA
The morning light filters softly through the curtains, stirring me from slumber. I blink a few times, adjusting to the brightness as I slowly wake. I take a moment to get my bearings with the lavish furnishings surrounding me. This is my new normal, staying in the opulent Ricci family mansion as their "guest."
A brisk knock at the door jolts me fully awake. I glance at the clock on the bedside table - it's barely past seven in the morning. Who could be visiting at this hour? I slip on a silky robe over my satin nightgown, cinching it tight around my waist as I make my way to the door on bare feet, the plush carpet cushioning each step.
When I open the door, I'm greeted by a petite maid, carrying an elegant white box nearly the size of her torso. "Mrs. Ricci asked me to bring this to you straight away."
"Oh, thank you," I reply, taking the surprisingly heavy box from her outstretched arms. I place it on the unmade bed, as the maid gives a quick curtsy before scurrying off down the hallway.
I haven't seen the matriarch of the Ricci family since the first night I arrived. What could she want delivered to me so early in the morning?
I turn back to the package resting atop the rumpled duvet, smoothing my hand over the textured white cardboard. Curiosity mingled with apprehension bubbles up within me as I tentatively lift the lid of the box, pushing back layers of ivory tissue paper. Nestled inside, I find a stunning floor-length evening gown in a rich shade of midnight blue. The silky material shimmers as I run my fingers over it, the cool smoothness like liquid mercury. Beneath the gown, I uncover a pair of black satin stiletto heels, a strand of glimmering pearls, and matching sapphire teardrop earrings. My jaw drops at the sight. This is easily the most beautiful, luxurious outfit I've ever laid eyes on. The quality surpasses anything I could have dreamed of affording as a graduate student.
As I'm admiring the contents, the bedroom door opens again without so much as a knock and Elena Ricci sweeps into the room. Antonio's mother is already impeccably dressed and styled at this early hour, wearing an emerald green skirt suit that accentuates her trim figure. Her chestnut hair is swept up in an elegant twist, showing off dazzling diamond earrings that sparkle in the morning sunlight. Everything about her appearance is flawless, from her expertly applied makeup to her dainty beige pumps. She smells of Chanel No. 5 and old money.
"Oh good, I see Marta was able to deliver the gown before I arrived," Elena says pleasantly, though her smile doesn't reach her shrewd brown eyes as they assess me in my sleep-rumpled state.
"It's beautiful, thank you," I manage to get out, acutely aware of my own disheveled appearance compared to her polish. "But may I ask, what's the occasion?"
Elena's red lips curve into a knowing smile. "Tonight is the Ricci Foundation's annual charity gala. It's the premier event of the season - all of New York's elite will be here, along with senators, foreign dignitaries, celebrities. Even the mayor comes each year to pay his respects."
I swallow thickly, my palms growing clammy. Being forced to attend a high society function surrounded by mafia criminals and corrupt politicians sounds like my own personal version of hell.
Oblivious to my rising panic, Elena continues. "Antonio asked that I help you get ready after his appalling oversight with your wardrobe when you first arrived."
