Chapter 2
TWO
ROME
This is it. One last time.
I repeat the words over and over in my mind, willing them to be true. To my own peril, too, because I can’t seem to keep my own fucking word. And the price I’ve paid time and time again for not following through will eventually lead to the death of me.
But sometimes, when I’m staring down the risk of death, I welcome it with open arms.
Especially when I’m standing face to face with a five-foot six-inch brunette with searing blue eyes. Ones that have driven me mad my whole life. And not mad in the good, fun way. More of a certifiably insane way.
Her signature scent of patchouli and vanilla lingers, surrounding me like a heavy, dark cloud. The way her body tensed when I stepped closer, reminding her the cycle will never end—the one where we hate each other to our fucking core—drives me as fucking crazy as it does her.
A sweet, sadistic torture neither of us will ever escape.
Fucking hell. Focus, Rome.
I stay plastered to the wall in the shadows of the darkened hallway while I survey the wedding guests, eventually spotting Kingsten Capuleti far too close for my liking.
Julianna had a point earlier. He wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in my head if he saw me here, or anywhere else he considers Capuleti territory.
If only he knew the number of times I’ve crossed the line and that this hotel is anything but Capuleti territory.
But that’s what I’ve always done—crossed a million lines a million different times.
Tonight is a prime example of what’s risky and dangerous. This room is filled with every single one of my family’s enemies—ones who won’t hesitate to take me out.
My attention is stolen again the moment Julianna emerges from the bathroom on the far side of the ballroom.
Her silky, sage green dress hugs all her curves, and I can’t help the venomous chuckle that tickles my throat knowing it’s probably killing her to be wearing something so domestic.
I’m surprised she hasn’t paired it with an obnoxious feather boa or a bright ass, blinding colored accessory.
She glides effortlessly across the ballroom, constantly tossing her eyes over her shoulders. Probably hoping to find the fucking asshole who flirted with her earlier.
Fire burns in my veins as she weaves her way through the ornately, floral-decorated tables and chairs, until she finds her best friends sitting at a table on the far end.
She bends down, bringing her mouth to their ears.
Once they give her a nod and a smile, she leaves them and heads toward the other side of the ballroom.
On her way, she passes one of the bar stations.
The bartender is busy tending to one of the wedding guests, his back turned as Julianna swipes a full bottle of champagne from the container of ice set on top of the bar.
When she realizes the bartender hasn’t noticed her taking the first bottle, she swipes another before disappearing down the hallway toward the elevators that lead to the hotel rooms on the upper levels.
I let out a scoff, unsurprised.
I’ve considered every possible option available to me to cash in the debt she owes me for nearly destroying my reputation with her petty, anonymous little article.
Once she’d confessed it was her who’d written it, I realized deep down that I already knew.
Julianna thinks she’s clever, but she isn’t.
She’s a snake disguised as a delicate bird.
Exhibit A is the way her hips sway beneath her silk dress as she carries two stolen bottles of champagne up to her hotel room.
Every scenario I could use against her comes up flat and unsatisfying, though.
I need something I know will end this petty tit for tat we’ve danced for years—one that will give me the satisfaction I’ve craved for years.
The satisfaction in knowing I’m responsible for her undoing.
Perhaps I’m na?ve for believing it will ever or could ever end.
Julianna Rosaline Capuleti will forever be a thorn in my side.
I guess me hanging this debt over her head is my sick way of returning the favor.
It’s fucked up, but I can’t help the delight I feel knowing I’m driving her fucking crazy.
Seeing how deep I can burrow under her skin lights a fire in my chest and makes my dick grow hard.
Shit, I need to stop focusing on Julianna. She can spend the night wallowing with her two bottles of champagne for all I care.
I head to the front lobby, hoping she’s gone by the time I get there.
The more distance between us, the easier it becomes to erase her from my thoughts.
I keep my head low, hoping not to catch the attention of the wedding guests still littering the hotel.
Thankfully, there aren’t too many Capuletis in this hallway.
They’re all back in the ballroom getting wasted, not realizing how close they’re dancing to the enemy.
Still, I’m aware there’s enough here to cause an uproar if one of them caught sight of me.
The Capuletis have been an enemy of my family for generations.
No one on either side has been able to explain the exact reason why, but I’ve heard hushed rumors and grumblings of how a Capuleti once had a sordid affair for an already spoken-for Montgomery.
The discovery drenched and stained our families with scandal.
Although it was centuries ago, I’ve been raised to despise any Capuleti, alive or dead.
Especially their designated princess, Julianna Rosaline Capuleti.
Despite the rumored history of betrayal between our two families, I suspect there is more to the story—something to do with the fact Julianna’s father, Kingsten, was mayor of New York City while my father, Dominico, was head of the Italian mafia.
Rival Italian families mix as easily as oil and water.
Once I’m alone in the far corner of the lobby, I pull my phone from my pocket and read a text I received earlier while I was foolishly distracted by Julianna.
Unknown Number: One second late, and the deal is off.
I breathe a heavy, heated sigh through my nostrils and grind my teeth before dropping my phone into my pocket without responding. The asshole can get fucked for thinking I’d risk showing up late when the promise of freedom is imminent with this final deal.
Just when I’ve managed to turn my focus on the business at hand, I get distracted again.
A certain brunette dressed in muted colors steals my attention.
Julianna’s head is tipped up as she reads the descending numbers above the lift.
Once it arrives and the doors open, she steps inside, a bottle of champagne snugly tucked under each of her arms. She ungracefully tries to balance both bottles as she sticks her finger out to choose her level.
The doors slowly begin to close, but not before her eyes lift and catch me watching her.
Just before the doors shut, she narrows her bitter gaze at me, then pins one bottle against herself as she twists her wrist, giving me a stiff middle finger.
I can’t help the laugh vibrating across my chest, and my reaction pisses her off even more than her initial sighting of me.
Good.
I give her a snarl before she disappears behind the shining golden doors.
Once she’s gone, I head toward the service hallway, leading to the parking garage, where my car is waiting for me.
I push through the black door at the end of the hallway; nerves humming through my veins when my blacked-out SUV comes into view.
Once I step outside, it feels as if the Egan wedding and the ballroom filled with Capuletis, and Julianna, are worlds away.
“Take a little detour, Mr. Montgomery?” Marcus asks, holding the back passenger door open for me.
Marcus has been a friend of the family for decades, practically slipping into an older brother type role, made easy by the fact that he’s only five years older than me.
Even though I’ve known him nearly my entire life, though, he still insists on calling me Mr. Montgomery. I stopped correcting him years ago.
“No detour, Marcus.” I exhale hotly through my nostrils, forcing myself to let my conversation with Julianna fade into the background. My anxiety is already through the fucking roof. I don’t need that woman adding to it.
“Distraction, then?” His dark eyebrows rise, and his head tilts back toward the hotel. What the fuck? Has he been watching me this whole time?
“Fuck. No. I met with the hotel manager, and we went over the expenditure report for the next quarter of the year. Exactly what I’m meant to do as the newest investor of this hotel.
Everything after that just happened to unfold in passing.
” I adjust the cuffs of my black suit sleeves, frustration eating away at me.
“We’re going to be late if we stand here talking about meaningless bullshit like this. ”
I slip into the backseat, hoping Marcus will drop this conversation, but I’m not so lucky once he sits behind the wheel and starts driving toward the garage exit.
“Mr. Montgomery. I didn’t…” He eyes me through the rearview mirror. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just worried you aren’t focused, and I know Jul—"
“I’m fine.” Resting my elbow on the edge of the door, I run my thumb across my bottom lip and watch the city pass us by as we head toward my newest nightclub, Club Verona.
“Yep. Of course you are,” Marcus answers quietly. “But you’d better be ready. Don’t let that little Capuleti spitfire get you distracted. And before you give me shit, I have every right to share my concerns with you. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Marcus tends to switch seamlessly between his role of bodyguard and the overprotective brother. Right now, though, this conversation is only making things worse.
“Are you suggesting I can’t control where my focus lies?” I ask, digging my fingers into my knee.
“No,” he mutters, considering his answer. “I wouldn’t blame you, though, if—"