Heartless Sinner (Empire of Sinners #5)

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Scarlett

The Maybach turns down a road that showcases gated homes with contemporary designed multi-million-dollar houses. My breath catches at the sight of the grandeur, and I stare and stare as we drive by, my eyes taking in every detail I can spot.

Micah and I are sitting in the back of the car while Bernard, our driver, is chauffeuring us to Micah’s parents’ home.

Tonight is the night—the engagement dinner party where I’ll meet all his family.

My heart has been beating in my throat since we left the house, and I can't stop fidgeting with my dress—a black Valentino that cost more than my monthly salary at any job I’ve ever had.

I keep doing that comparison thing, and I should probably stop since everything in Micah’s world will cost more than things I can compare it to. Even things I had with Anton.

I’ve been trying to remember some of the fancy places Anton took me to, so I don’t come across as some country bumpkin who lived in the mountains.

The problem is that Anton didn’t take me anywhere fancy enough that can help me. We ate at restaurants, and he took me to L.A. a couple of times, where we dined on Sunset Blvd, but that’s about it.

Yesterday, Micah and I went to dinner at a restaurant that outshone all the places Anton ever took me to in every way. Now that we’re on our way to see his parents, I’m so nervous that even my nerves have nerves.

Micah catches my restless hand and pulls it into the warmth of his touch, and I look at him.

"Try to calm down." He traces circles on my palm with his thumb. "It’s just dinner with my family.”

I smile back at him although deep down I think it’s easy for him to say.

He wasn't raised the way I was, but that’s not his fault. “I’m just nervous. I’m sure I’ll be okay once we get there.”

He moves to my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin. “Think about what we’ll be doing when we get back home, and you’ll be fine.”

My heart triple beats and my mind conjures memories of how we’ve spent the last few days wrapped up in each other. If we weren’t in bed, we were doing something that saw him touching me in some way even when we were out.

“You’re imagining us together, aren’t you?” He licks over the shell of my ear.

“Maybe.”

“You better be. When we get back, I want you to tell me all the things you thought about.”

“You’re always like this, aren’t you?” I giggle.

“Yeah, pretty much. I don’t think you’d like me any other way.” He rests his head on the back of the seat and stares at me with mischief dancing in his mysterious eyes.

“I like you just the way you are.”

“Don’t encourage me. I can get worse, wife-to-be.”

“Maybe I don’t mind that.”

I can’t resist the smile that slides across my lips. I’ve warmed to him, grown closer, and I can’t help how I feel. Nor how he makes me feel. It’s like I’m living in a fairytale and every day with him is pure magic.

I meet his lips for a kiss when he pulls me closer and I decide that I do need to calm down.

The worst thing that can happen is that no one likes me. Compared to the hell I’ve been through, it’s the least. I don’t need people to like me. Just Micah. He’s all that matters, and I’m not thinking that because, as we speak, half a million sits in my bank account and he’s sent people to help my father at home and in his workshop. I’m thinking that because that’s how I feel about him in my soul.

We pull apart, and Micah gazes ahead. “We’re here.”

I look ahead, too, as we turn down a private road. Moments later, we approach large metal gates that look like the ones I’ve seen on the way here.

They open for us and I realize immediately that’s where the similarities between the Delarosa estate and their neighbors end.

I catch glimpses of grounds so vast they disappear into the darkness, and pristine topiaries shaped like spirals line the winding driveway like silent sentinels, twisting toward the sky.

Three-tiered fountains command different sections of the circular drive, their waters dancing silver and gold under carefully positioned lights. And then there’s a lake.

"Your family have their own lake?" I whisper, my nerves returning.

"My mother loves the water and landscapes. She thinks they help make the house feel homier."

My lips part to answer, but I forget how to breathe as the Delarosa mansion appears before us like something from a dream.

The medieval castle structure makes Micah's home look like a guesthouse. Three stories of old-world Italian architecture stretch endlessly in both directions, disappearing into the growing shadows of pristine hedgerows.

Warm light spills from what must be fifty arched windows, and the entrance is flanked by towering Corinthian columns that belong in ancient Rome.

A grand staircase wider than a city street sweeps up to wooden double doors, and motion-activated lights illuminate the intricate stonework and wrought-iron balconies.

My brain struggles to process what I’m seeing, and any attempt to quell my nerves dissolves as if I never tried.

"Ready?" Micah asks as the car stops.

I look back at him, my lips parted. “I don’t know.”

He gives me that smile again and brushes my nose with his. “Everything will be fine. Come on, let’s go.”

He steps out first, looking sharp and lethal in his tailored Brioni suit, then he extends his hand to help me. I take it and step out,

His hand slides to my lower back, providing an extra layer of reassurance, and we walk toward the steps.

I may be nervous as hell, but I can’t wait to tell Dad and Lucy about all this. I wish they were here.

We reach the doors, and they swing open before us, revealing a foyer so vast it makes me dizzy. Three crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceiling above us, their lights dancing across the floors in intricate patterns.

The walls showcase gilt-framed paintings that belong in museums—I recognize a Caravaggio—and mirrors tall enough to reflect entire worlds.

“Micah,” a hearty female voice greets us with a slight Italian accent.

I look ahead to see a beautiful woman rushing toward us with her arms outstretched.

“Ma.” Micah releases me and hugs her when she reaches us while I stare at the woman, unable to contain my surprise that she’s his mother.

She looks like she could be in her early forties. At least.

The more I stare at them, the more I see the resemblance. I’m still surprised, though. She looks so young.

She has luscious black hair that looks like a rose garden, bright blue Disney princess eyes, a snatched waistline most twenty-year-olds would kill for, and an impeccable sense of style.

She speaks to Micah in Italian, touching his cheeks and reaching up to ruffle his hair. I like the interaction between them.

I like it even more when she looks at me and gives me a warm smile.

She reminds me of Victoria Grayson in Revenge but with a softer personality. I get the impression that she has some bite, and she’ll put you in your place if you cross her.

“Ma, this is Scarlett James, my fiancée.” Micah motions to me and I put on my shiniest smile, hoping I can win her over. “Scarlett, this is my mother, Genevieve Delarosa.”

“It’s a real pleasure to meet you.” There’s a slight quiver in my voice, but I amplify my smile hoping it will mask my nerves.

“Buonasera, the pleasure is mine.” Genevieve steps forward and gives me a quick hug. “My dear, my son forgot to tell me how beautiful you are.”

“Thanks so much. So are you.”

“That’s kind of you.” Her smile is as gracious and humble as her response, but I sense she must know she’s beautiful. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

“Thank you for inviting me to your home. It’s incredibly beautiful.”

“I’m glad you think so.” She glances at Micah, who seems pleased at the way our conversation is going so far. “Now, I couldn’t believe you were the same Scarlett James from All My Years until Micah told me. I can’t believe you’re here in my home. I adored you on that show so much I went out to L.A. to watch you in your stage show.”

My mouth almost hits the floor and I experience several emotions at once, but shock consumes me the most.

I could never imagine that Micah’s mom could have liked me or my acting so much that she would even know me or support me. Hearing what she did is so much more than an unexpected surprise, and I’m tongue tied.

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you know my work,” I rasp, pressing my hand to my heart as the warmth of hope blooms in my chest.

“Of course. You had a big part in All My Years . I’m sure many people must recognize you.” She looks at me expectantly as if I should know what she’s saying is true.

She’s right. People still recognize me from time to time even though my fame dried up quite a bit while I was with Anton. Working at the diner and the cleaning agency didn’t help either. Sometimes, I would find myself denying who I was because it was embarrassing to let people see how far I’d fallen. Me, a big star in the making, scrubbing floors and toilets and serving greasy food that was barely fit for human consumption.

“It’s been a while,” I decide to say and glance at Micah, who nods at me.

“Well, I want to hear all about it, and how one of my favorite actresses ended up meeting my son.”

“I’d love that.” I smile back at her, although I’m still nervous and don’t want to say the wrong things, the genuine look of interest she gives me makes me think I’ll be okay.

“We’ll talk after dinner.” She nods with excitement.

“Thanks, Mrs. Delarosa.”

“Oh no, do call me Genevieve.”

“Thanks, Genevieve,” I correct, and we both laugh, softening the tension in the air.

She looks back at Micah, her smile faltering. “Heads up, amore mio. Certain people are here who may piss you off.”

Micah’s face instantly hardens and I wonder who Genevieve could be talking about.

“Thanks,” he replies in a stiff tone.

“I tried to speak to your father, but he wouldn’t listen. He insisted they should be here for your engagement party. But don’t worry, I’ll deal with them if things get out of hand.”

She and Micah share a secret smile and I realize this was the dark side of Genevieve I picked up on earlier.

“Grazie, Ma.” Micah gives her a kiss on her cheek.

“Come, let’s go eat.”

Genevieve slips an arm around both of us and leads us through the arched doorway and into the dining room.

The gesture makes me feel better, but I realize it’s a statement and sends a message to whomever is inside.

At least twenty-five people sit around a long mahogany dining table beneath another gleaming chandelier.

The dining room is just as lavish as what I’ve already seen, but the curious stares that drift our way are more daunting than the entire house.

I spot Brahm, who sits next to a man who looks to be about the same age as him and Micah. At least Brahm cracks what could pass for a polite smile, but he still looks scary.

I smile back, then my gaze settles on the man at the head of the table, who’s the spitting image of Micah. Or rather, Micah is the spitting image of him.

That has to be his father.

I know a ton of people who bear striking similarities to their parents, but the resemblance Micah shares with his father is so potent it’s like they could be the same person. You can only tell the difference because his father looks older and has streaks of gray in his hair.

“They’re here,” Genevieve announces in a chirpy voice. “Now the party can begin.”

“Hear, hear,” the younger man next to Brahm says, raising his glass in a toast to which Micah nods with appreciation.

A few more people do the same, and while it’s nice, it doesn’t escape me that quite a few other people don’t. Including Micah’s father, a sure sign that he doesn’t approve of me.

Genevieve walks ahead of us and Micah takes my hand, leading me to the empty seats near his father.

Genevieve sits next to his father on his right, and we sit on his left.

Across the table from us, in my line of sight, there’s a woman who can’t be that much older than me throwing me daggers. The look she gives me is the kind you would when you’ve just spotted dog shit on your drive.

There’s a sophisticated blonde woman next to her and a balding man, who give me the same unpleasant stare. Since the girl shares similarities in looks to both of them, I assume they must be her parents.

Instantly, I wonder if they’re the people Genevieve was talking about in the hallway.

Micah takes my hand and makes a point of setting it on the table with his so everyone can see us holding hands, then he lifts his head and clears his throat. It’s another statement. Another message . And it is received.

Instantly, all glasses rise. Even his father’s.

My nerves scatter at the impact and I realize once again the power Micah wields. Watching his power also makes me realize that he’s different with me. He almost wraps me in cotton wool, but the rest of the world knows him as the fearsome leader.

“Welcome to the family, my dear,” his father finally speaks. His Italian accent is much deeper than Genevieve’s. He looks from me to Micah with his glass still raised.

“Thank you so much.”

“I am Don Giovanni Delarosa, Micah’s father. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I give him credit. He may not like me, but he knows how to keep the peace. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

He dips his head and glances at Micah, who is already staring at him.

“Let the evening begin,” Giovanni declares, and it’s like those words give everyone permission to breathe again.

The maids bring out platters filled with delicious-looking food, and I can’t help but do the comparison thing again. I’ve seen more good food in the last few days of me being in New York than I have in my life. And it’s all so exquisite.

Soon, the table is filled with a variety of food and an assortment of liqueur from wines to champagne and whiskey.

We start eating and light conversation flows down the table about travel and investments and real estate ventures in different countries.

I listen while most people contribute to the conversation, and I’m very aware of the woman across from me. Watching me.

My guess is she’s not happy with my presence, and if I were to sum her up, I’d also say she has a thing for Micah. She keeps looking at him the way a woman does when she wants a man for herself.

I find myself feeling a tinge of envy because she seems to be exactly his type, and I think she would be more suited to being his wife than me.

Rule number one of acting according to my old professor is to never compare yourself to anyone. She believed that once you reached a certain level, we were all good and had talent, but each person had something different to the other.

I used to live by those words until I was tossed out of that world and into this one, where I saw myself as nothing and had to fight to remember who I was. As those piercing eyes switch back to me, boring into me, I feel like nothing again.

An hour and a half later, when dinner is over and dessert is served, Micah’s father gathers everyone’s attention again.

“I’m sure you’re all eager to know the details of the wedding,” he says.

“We most certainly are,” the woman with short curly hair beams. Her name is Belinda. She’s one of Micah’s aunts. Her son is Lorenzo, the guy who first toasted to us.

“It will be held next Saturday at Oheka Castle. Your invitations will be sent out tomorrow by courier.”

Excited gasps ripple down the table like a Mexican wave.

“Next Saturday? That’s awfully quick.” Belinda brings her hands up to her cheeks and glances at Genevieve.

“With my imminent ascent to the leadership, I wanted to make sure we had the wedding we wanted,” Micah explains, and everyone seems to understand straightaway. “I have big shoes to fill, so I need all the time with my father once he starts handing over to me.” He keeps his gaze on his father.

“You will be just fine, mio figlio, but I look forward to spending that time with you.”

They both acknowledge each other with bowed heads.

“I want to hear about how you two met,” Belinda bubbles, and the woman next to her—Clarissa, another aunt—smiles, too.

They’re looking at me, so I assume they want to hear the story from me.

“Oh, it was here in New York.” I glance at Micah, who nods his approval for me to keep going. “I was here for work. I was staying at the Grand Vittorio.”

That’s not entirely far from the truth. The only part about that explanation which glosses over a lie is the part about work. I was working. They don’t need to know I was there to steal from Micah.

“We started dating, and it was dinner and movies from there on.” I try to make that sound as real as possible. Micah and I have gone to dinner, and the other day, Die Hard was playing in the background while I was unpacking. Micah wasn’t technically in the room with me, but he was in the house.

“We love dinner and movie dates.” Belinda and Clarissa both swoon at the same time looking like they’re watching the you-complete-me scene from Jerry Maguire .

“That’s so strange. Micah was never into dinner and movies when we were together,” says the bitchy girl across from me, and I realize with dark dread the reason why she’s been giving me such filthy looks.

She’s Micah’s ex.

My stomach plummets like I've swallowed rocks and they’re pulling me under. The room dims around the edges, sound becoming distant and hollow as her words echo in my skull.

The girl’s smirk grows wider, more predatory, as if she can taste my discomfort in the air. The happy chatter of Belinda and Clarissa fades to white noise as my mind races, trying to remember if Micah ever spoke about an ex.

He didn’t. Not one word.

And now she's here, eating with us at our engagement party.

“I’ve changed quite a lot since then,” Micah says, his voice chasing the uncomfortable silence away.

“Indeed,” Genevieve agrees. “You have changed, mio figlio. But I think when you’re with the person you love, you tend to do things differently and you outgrow certain things from the past that you no longer care for.”

My heart swells with warmth and gratitude for the lifeline Genevieve just threw me in this storm of revelation.

I steal a glance at her then at Micah, watching the muscle in his jaw relax as his mother so elegantly puts his ex in her place. And it’s clear her response hit the mark because the girl and her parents look stunned.

To make matters worse, Genevieve’s response garners a few uncontrolled snickers from the end of the table where the cousins and uncles sit. Even Brahm is trying to bite back a smile.

Suddenly, the poisonous knot in my stomach begins to unwind, but questions still writhe beneath the surface.

Why didn't Micah tell me about this woman?

And more importantly, why is she here?

Why is she here watching us with those calculated eyes and scathing stares?

Micah takes my hand again. This time under the table so he can rest it on his thigh.

I draw strength from the warmth of his contact and the soft circling of his thumb in my palm while my mind catalogs every micro-expression crossing his ex’s face as Genevieve's subtle barb finds its mark.

“I’m sure you’ve outgrown things, too, Eloise,” Belinda chimes in, giving me a name to the face.

Eloise. The name suits her.

“Were you in New York for an audition?” Belinda’s voice rises with excitement, bringing back the lightheartedness to our conversation. “Genevieve told us you’re an actress. A bunch of us have started watching the reruns of All My Years . You’re absolutely fabulous.”

Again, my heart swells with the unexpected recognition and compliments of my previous success. “Thanks. I’m hoping to get another acting job soon. It would be great to get something like I did in All My Years . Being on the show was the pinnacle of my career.”

“I’m sure you won’t have much trouble landing a role with your talent. You remind me of Vivien Leigh.”

Now my head really swells. And it just might burst. “Vivien Leigh is my absolute inspiration.”

Belinda and Clarissa nod, agreeing.

“You can definitely tell.” Clarissa smiles back at me.

“Wasn’t All My Years the show with some big scandal?” Eloise cuts in with an arrogant smile. “Didn’t the producers and owners steal a ton of money or something, and that’s why the show ended?”

She’s looking at me as if I stole the money and the scandal was mine.

After the scandal happened, there was a lot of stigma attached to the show and actors associated with it, so it doesn’t surprise me that she would ask. But I get the feeling she’s asking to take the shine off me that I’m getting from everyone.

They’re all looking at me for an explanation now.

“Yes, you’re right. That did happen. It was a sad thing for the show to end since we were all like one big family.”

“I’ll bet. I heard some of the actors were involved in the scandal.” Her tone is sour.

“That was never proven.”

“Maybe since you were all like one big family, you covered for each other.”

I don’t like her tone and what she’s implying.

“They probably did cover for each other. The way we do.” Genevieve’s voice slices through Eloise’s insinuation like a hot knife through butter, saving me again. “We’re family. And let’s not kid ourselves. We are La Cosa Nostra. We cover for worse things. But I’m sure you can agree that there are some situations like your recent pregnancy scandal with the governor that no one can cover for.”

Holy shit. Micah’s mom is on fire.

I can now definitely see that bite in her and what she meant by she would deal with things if she had to. I also think Micah is letting her deal with the situation, which is actually better than if he defended me.

“Genevieve, maybe we shouldn’t bring up such things now,” Giovanni says, looking extremely uncomfortable at his wife’s remarks.

“Oh, sweetheart, all of New York knows about what Eloise is up to. She was in the papers herself telling the world how much she loved the governor while his wife and kids were trying to save their marriage. Why wouldn’t we discuss that at the dinner table if she thinks she should be messy and disrespectful to our future daughter-in-law?”

Jesus. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like her.

Giovanni opens his mouth to speak, but no words come. At that moment, I see that while he may be the king of the empire, Genevieve is the queen. The most powerful piece on the chessboard.

“I’m sorry. I mean no disrespect,” Eloise says, but it’s clear the apology is just for show.

“Yes, you did dear, but thank you for saying sorry.” Genevieve gives her a cutting stare then seconds later, she becomes a Stepford Wife again and smiles at everyone as if nothing ever happened. “With that out of the way, would anyone like more ice cream?”

I look at Micah, who gives me a wink.

I was so worried about tonight, but his mom definitely turned things around.

I’m glad she likes me.