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I wait with frayed nerves for Mandi, occasionally glancing at the ocean glimmering in the distance. I should have expected that my parents might be suspicious that Roberto and I were in Italy simultaneously.
And I should have known they wouldn't be content holding back retaliation until we figured out Tyson's murder. Despite being usually very rational, all Russos tend to react violently and immediately to Giovanni threats.
But I can't lose Roberto. I can't let them hurt him. My mother said they'd make their move at the end of the gala, so I just needed to get there in time to warn him.
By the time Amanda pulls up in her little red car, I'm an anxious wreck. I jump into the back and begin changing immediately.
"Whoa! Hello—are you getting ready on the way? Why are you out here in the middle of nowhere? What's—"
"Drive to San Francisco," I say hurriedly, slipping into the deep green sleeveless dress.
Mandi drives like a madwoman, as I explain in a rush. She gasps and says, "Oh my God!"more times than I can count while I relate everything. As I talk, I climb into the passenger seat and quickly put on gala-worthy makeup in the flip-down mirror.
When I'm finished, she swerves around another car, eyes practically bugged as she grips the steering wheel. "Holy shitballs. They're seriously going to kill him? Just like that? Oh, God, I can't believe the gala Bruno told me about is some kind of mafioso shindig!"
I'm not surprised Roberto's friend mentioned it to her. Mandi told me on the phone two days ago that she's been flirting with a Giovanni of her own. Only over text, of course.
"It's not strictly a mob thing. It's filled with elites, and elites love connections. The Five Families want a bigger presence there this year because…it's a long story. Basically, there's a big deal we're trying to get through for the sake of a better future for everyone—and a new reputation for the mafia as a whole. Them killing Roberto would blow all of that to hell, not to mention they'd be killing the guy that I'm in l—"
I stop myself, but Mandi gasps ridiculously hard, darting looks at me between her insane driving. At this rate, we're practically going the speed of light.
"You were just about to say you're inlovewith him? Holy shit! Giules! That's fuckingamazing!I'm so happy for you; I might cry."
"Don’t cry. You're driving. It would be a hazard."
She snorts. "Right, because nothing else about my driving is a hazard. Girl, you've never fallen in love before, and now look at you! Stripping in the back of my car and racing off to save your man in distress because you can't bear the thought of living without him. It's so freaking romantic, I'm going to puke—in a good way."
I make a face at her. "There is no good way. And don’t be dramatic. Just—"
"Drive? Yeah, I get it, I get it. Calm your hormonal pregnancy ass."
When we finally arrive at the grand estate where the gala is being held, my heart is in my throat. I've already tried calling and texting Roberto several times, but there's been no answer, making me envision all sorts of horrible things. His blood soaking into the ground. A bullet in his head. His body dumped in a lake with cement on his feet to keep it from floating, cut up, or left for wild animals in some state park—all things I've seen in my family's repertoire.
I'm liable to throw up, and it has nothing to do with being pregnant.
Mandi parks, and I instruct her to stay hidden and stay in the car before making a mad dash through the parked cars and the well-dressed crowd steaming into the old manor. When I reach the front, I'm relieved to find that my name was never removed from the guest list from when I had planned on attending as the Russo representative weeks ago.
A couple of people eye my outfit since, despite my best efforts, I still look decidedly dressed down compared to their opulent gowns and tuxedos. I ignore them and carefully navigate the room, keeping out of sight of any Russos I recognize while scanning every person in the many vaulted rooms for the damn winking mafioso I came here to find.
Finally, I spot him.
The nervous agony in my stomach lessens when I see that he's whole, dressed to the nines, and schmoozing a pair of upper-society businessmen with his natural charisma and grace. Both of them are laughing at something he's said. Apparently, he's on his best behavior as the Giovanni representative tonight, and I'm sure he'll be gettingVitalendeals set up left and right.
At least, he would be if I didn't hurry toward him and catch his eye across the crowd.
A dazzling smile lights up Roberto's face for one instant, and then I see the realization hit him that I wasn't supposed to be here. He excuses himself quickly, and we meet each other halfway in the throng of finely-dressed people who all smell like perfume and aftershave.
"Giulia? Are you okay? What's—"
I grip his arm and scan the room once more, quickly, to see if any Russos are watching us. There are so many faces and figures, but I don’t recognize anyone, and I quickly pull him out of this room and into a quiet alcove in a hallway that leads somewhere back by the kitchens of the old estate. It's quieter here, and I push him against the wall to ensure no one will see us if they happen to glance down the hall.
Roberto's eyes immediately darken with hunger, and he groans. "Fuck, yes. Another hall, cutie? I'm down. Lift up your dress and turn around. I dare you to try to keep quiet."
Chapter 26
Roberto
Giuliaisasightto behold in red lipstick, the deep green dress clinging to her mouthwatering curves while her hair cascades in wild dark curls down her back. I watch as her gaze flicks from the hall to me, and a charming scowl twists her lips even as her cheeks flush from my words.
