Hallie studies my face carefully.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yep,” I say too quickly.
She raises a brow.
“Pfeiffer—”
I force a bright smile onto my face. “Yeah?”
“What’s going on?”
I shrug lightly. “What do you mean?”
“Il Diavolo…”
“What about him?” I frown.
Her eyes thin. “You blushed like a schoolgirl when he walked past. Do you have a crush?”
I contort my mouth into a grimace. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I glance up at the ropes now firmly locked in place and feel my stomach drop another inch. “What would someone like him see in someone like me anyway?”
She cocks her head to one side. “You really don’t see it?”
I breathe in tightly and fold my arms. “See what?”
“He watches you, Fi. All the time.”
I exhale through pursed lips. “That’s not true. He didn’t even acknowledge me just now.”
“He looked kinda busy,” she rationalizes. “I mean all the other times. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you seek each other out when the room gets crowded. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how he took a bullet for you…”
“He didn’t ‘take a bullet’ for me,” I protest. “He just happened to be there.”
“Yeah,” she smirks. “From right across the other side of the room.”
She shakes her head and turns to deliver the drinks, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “It’s okay to like someone you know. Even if it is Il Diavolo.”
I watch her walk away, an unspoken response on the edge of my tongue. If she were to put that to any of his brothers, I think they’d fervently disagree.
Movement through the curtain pulls my attention again. Five more men enter, and they’re not wearing masks. I recognize one straight away—Cristiano Di Santo, the head of the New York Italian Mafia. I don’t know the others—haven’t brushed up on my knowledge of mafia family trees in a while,or ever—but I assume they’re his closest capos.
Cristiano nods at me as he passes and I freeze. The few photographs I’ve seen of him on the internet make him look dangerous, but he looks even more intimidating up close and in person. And they’re all packing guns—it’s obvious from the bulges beneath their jackets.
They head directly for the VIP area and one of the security guys lets them through the ropes.
Hallie appears at my side fanning herself, “Oh lord, that was some serious testosterone. You think it might be flammable?”
“With the amount of gunpowder they’re carrying, I’d say highly.”
She smirks then groans. I follow her gaze to see Vivienne heading our way.
“Okay, gotta go.”
I spin to face her. “Go where?”
She grins apologetically. “Literally anywhere but here!”