"You look incredible." He drawls.
I extract my hand gently. He lets me — publicly, graciously lets me, because this is a stage and he's very good at performance.
"You're too kind," I say, because those are the words that belong in this moment, in this room, with all these people watching us begin.
"Not kind. Honest." He tilts his head slightly, and his voice drops just enough that it's almost intimate. Almost. "I think we're going to get along very well, you and I. I hope you'll give me the chance to show you that."
There's nothing overtly wrong with any of it. That's exactly the problem.
He takes a champagne glass from a passing tray, offers it to me first, then takes one for himself. Perfect manners. He turns to the room with the ease of someone who has always known how to command a space. "To my father's excellent taste," he says, warmly, "and to the woman who apparently has to live with the result."
Light laughter. The room likes him. Of course it does.
He loops his arm through mine — not around my waist, not yet, just arm in arm, perfectly correct — and leans slightly toward me. His voice is very quiet now. Only for me.
"You look tense," he murmurs pleasantly. "You should relax. After all, this is a party. Not your funeral."
His arm is light against mine. Cordial. And I stand there smiling at the room while every nerve in my body screams.
I keep smiling.
Because I have no choice.
9
AXEL
This is my fault.
The thought loops in my head as I watch Leo's mouth touch Aurora's hand. Watch him grin like he's won something. Watch her smile even though I can see the revulsion in her eyes from across the room.
I did this.
I arranged this nightmare.
I drain my whiskey in one swallow. It doesn't help.
Viktor appears at my elbow. "Boss, you okay? You look like you're about to explode."
"Not now, Viktor."
"That's not a—" He stops. Goes very still. "Wait. Is that..."
I don't answer. Don't need to. Viktor's seen me obsessed for a month over a woman I couldn't find.
Now he's looking at her.
"That's her," he breathes. "The woman from the club. Aurora. She's—"
"Don Luca's daughter," I finish. "Yes."
"And she's engaged to—"
"My son. Also, yes."
"Fuck."
"Yeah."