Chapter Twenty-Nine Lexie
“I still can’t get over this room,” I say, looking at my reflection as I clasp the dainty pear-studded necklace around my neck.
It’s one of the pieces Callum purchased during our shopping spree.
Something about the fact that he bought it for me, just because I like it, makes it feel special.
Everything I’m wearing tonight was purchased by him—from my perfume to the silk platform heels on my feet.
The suite is incredible, equally as impressive as the lobby. With elegant, wallpapered walls, detailed woodwork, and marble accents. I could never afford to stay at a place like this, it’s the definition of luxury.
“I expected nothing less from the Grassos family,” Callum says walking out of the primary bedroom. My eyes catch on him in the reflection and my heart flutters.
Callum’s tall, broad frame looks incredible in his rich black suit.
Walter is a genius, because it fits him like a damn glove.
His full beard has been recently trimmed and shaped to perfection, his thick, dark brown hair styled in tamed waves.
Those smoldering hazel eyes meet mine as he straightens the cufflinks on his white dress shirt.
Hot damn, he’s handsome.
As I’m checking him out, his gaze sweeps over me in appreciation—taking in my big, loose curls, full glam makeup, and the light blue dress he had altered for me.
My tits also look incredible in this dress; the off-the-shoulder sleeves with the open sweetheart neckline puts my chest on full display with the help of my industrial-strength strapless bra.
My high-waisted shapewear underwear is currently holding me in and smoothing me out beneath the unforgiving fabric.
I’m not sure what to expect at this party.
Callum will be the only person I know there—outside of his family that I’ve met literally once—and I’ll admit I’m a little apprehensive.
I’m not sure whether Callum is attending this party for business or pleasure, but I’m guessing it’s a little bit of both.
Turning to face him, the air between us grows heavy with sexual tension.
I can feel his desire to rip this dress right off my body as his eyes move over me—a feeling I know is reflected on my own face looking at his sexy suit.
“Speaking of the Grassos,” I say, forcing a cleansing breath.
“They don’t seem like the kind of people who like to be kept waiting. Neither do your parents.”
“They’re not,” he agrees, though his tone implies he couldn’t care less. His shoulders roll back and I watch him shift into Fixer mode. “You ready?”
Back to business.
“As I’ll ever be.”
The Walmont’s ballroom is straight out of a Regency film, with polished wood floors and massive crystal chandeliers suspended from hand-painted, vaulted ceilings. A series of French doors along the back wall lead out into a large terrace overlooking breathtaking French-style gardens.
Elegantly dressed round tables are set off to the left, with an expansive buffet to the right.
Along the back of the building is a fully stocked bar, complete with three bartenders.
But as gorgeous as the venue is, there’s a tension in the air that sits heavy and unrelenting like humidity over the guests who congregate in clusters.
There’s a very tangible divide between the people in attendance, separated between the sets of tables.
Callum mentioned there might be a bit of hostility at this event since the engagement is between rival Mafia families.
Okay, so his exact words were “two families with generational animosity” and I read between the lines.
But since he’s well acquainted with both Chicago and New York, Callum crosses the invisible line without a second thought as he makes his rounds.
With each new group he walks over to, Callum simply introduces me as “Lexie” but doesn’t elaborate further. I’m not sure what else there is to say about who I am and why I’m here. I’m met with curious glances, but I mostly just stand off to the side and let him do the talking.
I can tell when his family arrives by the way Callum tenses beside me before he can catch himself. I look up at him, but he’s already squaring his shoulders with his armor firmly in place.
“You came!” Gio Russo’s comment seems pleasantly surprised, but there’s a barb hidden in his words. Callum doesn’t allow it to get under his skin, but his hand moves to my hip.
“Of course, we couldn’t miss it.” The double meaning in Callum’s response is clear. I can see the moment we register as Gio’s attention turns to me.
“Lexie, I almost didn’t recognize you without the scrubs,” he says with a grin, but I don’t miss the way he glances at the hand on my hip.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Russo.”
“Call me Gio, please.” Just then, Marcus strolls up with a glass of what looks like whiskey in his hand—he clearly made the bar his first stop.
He greets his brother by raising his drink in cheers before taking a large gulp.
But then his eyes land on me, and I watch as his flicker of confusion turns into realization.
The grin that spreads across his face has Callum’s fingers flexing against me.
“The nurse, right? Lexie.”
“Hi, Marcus,” I greet him politely, but he’s already on a roll.
“You clean up real nice. I liked the pink, but blue is your color.” His gaze moves to the man beside me. “Don’t you think, Callum?”
“I think you should lay off the booze and wait for dinner, before this place turns into a powder keg.” Marcus shrugs off his brother’s suggestion and takes another gulp.
“You’ve made your rounds?” Gio asks, and Callum nods. “What’s the temperature?”
“It’s heated, but I don’t foresee any fires starting.”
“You don’t expect any violence, but your nurse is on your arm,” Gio presses, his voice lowering. “Why did you really bring her?”
Callum glances down at me, his jaw clenching as my gaze meets his. His father’s question echoes in my eyes before he turns back to answer him.
Why did you really bring me here?
“It’s a Family event,” he states simply, giving no further explanation.
“Your mama’s going to have something to say when she sees you both.”
“Where is she?” Callum asks, his eyes scanning the vicinity. But Tara’s nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, Ginerva had a wardrobe malfunction in the ladies’ room. Your mama went in to fix it.” It takes me a second to place the name before it clicks—Ginerva Grassos, Don Rafael’s wife and Lucciano’s mother.
I don’t have time for the frustration and confusion to settle over me before I’m led to the buffet table.
It’s an impressive assortment of gourmet food, and there’s enough to feed an army.
Seafood, premium meats, salads, pastas—the list goes on.
My plate is full within seconds before I’m headed back to my seat, Callum glued to my side.
“I just repaired a zipper using dental floss and a paper clip. No one can ever tell me that I need to clean out my handbag after that.” Tara’s soft Irish accent announces her presence as she rolls up to the table, stopping right behind us.
She looks very elegant, wearing a chocolate-brown dress that complements her complexion.
Callum stands at her arrival, and I follow his lead.
“Callum, let me look at you. I almost forget what you look like between sightings.”
“Nice to see you too, Mom. You look beautiful.” Callum greets her dryly as he leans down to kiss her on the cheek. But the annoyance in his tone is missing its usual sharpness.
“Well, aren’t you a vision? Lexie, is it?” Tara’s focus lands on me as she moves closer, and I nod. “That dress is lovely on you. Fits you like a glove.”
“Thank you. Callum got it for me—my whole outfit, actually,” I say, and her eyes light with approval. Her gaze cuts to her son, the smile she flashes him both knowing and telling.
“Did he now? He always did have excellent taste.” Callum opens his mouth to discourage her as we sit back down, but she changes the subject. “You’re eating already. I didn’t think I was gone that long.”
“We’ll grab you a plate, my love,” Gio announces from his place. Callum’s mother waves off his offer like it’s ridiculous, and I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips.
“I’ll handle it, of course. Callum, come help your mam,” Tara announces, rolling her wheelchair back from the table.
She heads towards the buffet table; Callum squeezes my knee before he silently rises from his chair and follows to assist her.
I can definitely see where Callum got his stubbornness from.
“He’s finally back where he belongs,” Gio comments once they’re gone, breaking apart a roll. “With family. You’re never too good for your family.” I pick up my glass to take a sip of my wine, but I can’t bite my tongue any longer. And honestly, I don’t want to.
“It’s interesting that you think of it as Callum abandoning the family. It seems to me that breaking familial expectations to make your own path is what being a Russo really means. At least, that’s the example he was born into.” My eyes look from Tara’s retreating figure to Gio’s pointedly.
Callum’s father looks at me startled, like he’s really seeing me for the first time and he’s not sure how he feels about me. But I can see my words sinking in as his eyes move back to where Callum stands beside his mom at the buffet table while she directs him on how to fill her plate.
Glancing across the table, Marcus is grinning at me like he just won a bet. His eyebrows jump playfully as he takes a large bite of his manicotti, completely entertained by my presence. Or maybe he’s already drunk.