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“And we’ll just hope no one says a fucking thing to you in Italian, because then we’re all fucked.”
“We’re good there. I’ve got my app.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I spin around to find a smug grin on his face and both his hands in the air.
“It was a joke,” he chuckles.
“Fuck, Richard…” I draw my lips into my mouth to hide my smile.
After making our way through security—as this is supposed to be a weapons-free, friendly event—Richard and I walk into the grand ballroom. Standing tall, with me on his arm, Richard looks every bit the part he is supposed to be playing.
Not bad for a graphic designer.
Glancing around the room, I findMammaandPapàat a table with some of the other senior members of the other families. I continue to scan the room looking for Gabriella, shaking my head when I find her on the arm of Matteo Piccarilli. She has had a thing for that man since she was a teenager and she will not take the hint that he has zero intention of marrying our families together.
“Shit,” I mumble when she spots us and they begin walking over. Matteo doesn’t speak a single fucking word of English. “We’re fucked, he’s going to do us in.”
I immediately begin devising escape strategies and looking for anything I can use as a weapon, when I need to get us out of this situation. Music trumpets through the ballroom and Richard pulls me toward the dance floor.
Please know how to fucking dance.
His fingers trail down the bare skin of my spine, before he rests his palm against my lower back and pulls me flush to his body.
Fuck, he was right. Panties would’ve been a fucking waste tonight.
Eyes are on us as he twirls me around the dance floor with ease, but I couldn’t care less about any of them. Every bit of attention I have is on Richard. My eyes locked on his, I can’t think about anything more than his hands on my body and how I feel wrapped in his arms…Adored.
“Where did you learn to dance like this?”
“My mom made me take lessons as a kid. She always said that I would need to know how someday.” He slides his hand to the middle of my back and dips me, pulls me back up to him, and places a kiss on my lips. “Of course, I don’t thinkthisis quite what she had in mind.”
DICK
Ioffer Cat my arm and lead us away from the dance floor to the bar. She brushes a ghost of a kiss to my shoulder, and even through the thick jacket, I feel the simple gesture everywhere.
Except this is fake. All of it. If our lives didn’t depend on us pretending to be married, she wouldn’t want to be here on my arm.
I look around, taking in my environment. Men and women are dressed as if they are attending a red carpet event. I can almost hear the celebrity reporter asking, “What are you wearing tonight?” But these aren’t celebrities, there is no reporter, only ruthless killers.
Cat gets us two glasses of wine and hands one to me. I take a sniff and something smells…wrong. The bouquet is almost sour. As Cat brings the glass to her lips, I take it away from her and set it aside, then lean in to whisper, “Something’s wrong with the wine.”
Her eyes narrow and she lifts the glass just below her nose. She frowns as she sniffs. “You’re right. This isn’t like the other bottle they poured from. Maybe it’s corked?”
“Or maybe we are in a room with a few mob families who hate each other, and we’re about to have aGame of Thronesmoment here,” I deadpan.
“I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.” Cat sets down the wine and takes out her phone. As she types she adds, “But you’re right that it smells off. I wouldn’t worry about it. If they wanted to poison us, they would have been smart about it and used something odorless.” She finishes her message and tucks her phone away. Her eyes return to mine and a small smirk briefly dances on her lips. “There are some stupid fucking men here. Best to be safe.”
“We made our appearance, when do you want to leave?”
“Now,” she breathes, sliding her hands up my chest, and wrapping them behind my neck.
I briefly glance behind her and find the eyes of three men are on us.Showtime. As if she feels their gazes piercing us, she pulls me in to kiss her. I expect a tight-lipped, chaste kiss from her. I’m pleasantly surprised when she pushes for more. She nips at my bottom lip, a silent plea to take her away from here and make lo—fuckher. My tongue sweeps across hers and she whimpers into my mouth. I would never typically kiss a woman like this in front of her family, but Cat is no ordinary woman, and her family depends on me making this look believable.
Except, I don’t give a fuck what her family or these other families think. I want this fiery vixen, even if she doesn’t want me. A throat clears behind me and I reluctantly break our kiss. Cat swipes her thumb across my lip, eyes fixated on them, as she addresses the man behind me in Italian. Her eyes meet mine when she says in English, “My husband’s Italian isn’t as good as it used to be, he’s been away from home too long.”
“So, you’re the guy that managed to finally take out that asshole Luca, huh?” the man asks.
I don’t tear my gaze from Cat when I reply, “No one touches what’s mine. It was either kill him or sign him up for political spam calls for the upcoming election in America. He got off easy.”
