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“Why did you invite them?” Nero asks.
I shrug. “It seemed the right thing to do.”
He shakes his head. “McKenna’s old news. He’s played his part in all of this already. I don’t need him anymore.”
I can’t help but wonder, what will happen to me when I’ve played my part?
After the ceremony is over,we head back to the townhouse, which is already full of caterers and staff prepping for the party.
“Lily!” my event planner, Beatrice, grabs me on the way in. “I need you. Come…”
She drags me off to approve flowers and appetizers, and I barely have a moment to change before the valet starts showing people in, and the event is underway.
“It really is a spectacular showing, if I say so myself,” Beatrice quips, looking around after the guests arrive.
I have to agree. The menu is perfect, a buffet groaning with the finest lobster and caviar, plus an expert mixologist whipping up amazing cocktails at the makeshift bar. The theme is French luxury chic, so there are olive trees, fresh-cut roses, and the smell of lavender is in the air. There’s a jazz trio playing in the sitting room, and in the kitchen, a patisserie chef from the finest French restaurant in the city whipping up treats to order.
It’s a slice of Paris right here in Manhattan, and it’s not lost on me that I’ve conjured a scene from one of my paintings—trying to feel like anything about this night is genuine or real to me, and not just one big display of Nero’s wealth and growing power.
“Not bad.” The man himself joins us, and Beatrice tactfully melts away. Nero looks around the room, every inch the host, surveying his kingdom.
“Not bad?” I echo, annoyed. “I pulled off the impossible here. Nobody expected this; you can tell from their faces the moment they walk in.”
It’s true. The house is filled with society types and business titans, sipping champagne and pretending like they’re not paying tribute to a mafia king.
“Fine,” Nero agrees with a faint smirk. “I’ll admit. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you,” I say coolly, smoothing down my silk dress.
“Look at this place, it’s amazing!”
I turn to see Caleb and Juliet Sterling, making their way through the crowd. I’ve gotten to know Juliet a little over the past few weeks, and I like her, but not enough to confide the truth about my situation. As far as they know, Nero and I are a real couple, reunited after all this time apart.
“Hi,” I greet her, pleased. At least there’s one friendly face I know here. “Have you tried the fresh eclairs yet? They’re divine.”
“Sign us up.” Juliet beams. Her husband, Caleb, is more reserved beside her. He has a tangled history with Nero, considering they recently discovered that they’re half-brothers.
Caleb nods to him. “I hear congratulations are in order,” he says evenly. “You’re a lucky man.”
“Aren’t I just?” Nero replies dryly.
Juliet quickly covers. “I can’t believe you just up and did it at City Hall! I would have thrown you a bachelorette,” she chides me. “And what about your dress? Who was the designer? I want to see all the photos.”
Photos? We didn’t take any. They would have only shown the mockery we were making, rushing through the vows, glaring at each other.
I force a laugh. “There’s not much to see. I know it was all so quick, but that’s how it is sometimes, the heat of the moment. We just share just such a deep connection that I didn’t want to wait a single day to become his wife.”
I hate lying to Juliet like that, but the truth needs to stay between me and Nero.
“I can understand that,” Juliet replies, reaching over to take Caleb’s hand. They gaze at each other for a moment with love in their eyes, and I try not to feel a pang of regret.
I want to be looked at like that, to feel that way. With my husband.
“Now, how about those pastries?” Juliet slips her arm through mine and steers me away from the guys. “Whatever the… circumstances around the wedding,” she says tactfully, “You’re part of the family now. I’d love for the two of us to get to know each other better.”
“Of course,” I agree, happy. “I’d love that.”
“What do you think about a double date?” Juliet asks.
