Chapter 16
T he stylist has transformed me into a vision in midnight blue silk that hugs my curves before flowing to the floor. My dark hair falls in soft waves around my shoulders, and my makeup is flawless.
Tonight is my engagement party to Bruno Sartori. The thought sits like lead in my stomach.
"You look stunning," Bella says from where she's perched on the edge of my bed.
I meet my cousin's eyes in the mirror. "Thanks."
There's an awkward silence between us. Once, we would have been giggling together, sharing secrets and dreams. Bella and I were inseparable growing up, more like sisters than cousins. We'd spend hours in this very room, planning our futures, talking about boys, and imagining the lives we'd lead.
"Remember when we stole Damiano's cologne?" I say suddenly, unable to bear the quiet. "We thought it would make us smell sophisticated."
Bella's mouth twitches. "We doused ourselves in it. Ettore banned us from the dining room because the smell was making everyone's eyes water."
A smile tugs at my lips. "Or that summer at the beach house when we convinced Enzo there were sharks in the sea?"
"He wouldn't go near it for two days." Bella laughs, the sound warming something cold inside me.
My chest tightens at the memory.
"We were inseparable," I murmur, more to myself than to her.
Bella's eyes meet mine in the mirror. "We were."
Were. Past tense.
I remember countless sleepovers in this very room, whispering about our futures under blanket forts. Bella wanted to be a fashion designer. I wanted to paint in Paris.
Then Bella went to Stanford three years ago, and everything changed. She stepped into a normal world—sorority parties, finals, and regular college drama.
"The dress is perfect," Scarlett chimes in, breaking the tension as she adjusts one of my earrings. "Bruno won't be able to take his eyes off you."
"That's the point, isn't it?" I say, more bitterly than I intended.
Bella shifts uncomfortably. "Lu, are you sure about this? You don't seem happy."
"It's not about happiness," I reply, reaching for the diamond bracelet on my vanity. "It's about family."
"But you're the one who has to live with him," Bella argues. "Forever."
I snap the bracelet closed around my wrist with more force than necessary. "I know what I'm doing."
"Do you?" Bella stands up, crossing her arms. "Because this isn't you, Lu. The cousin I grew up with wouldn't agree to marry someone she doesn't love."
"The cousin you grew up with doesn't exist anymore," I say quietly.
Bella's face falls. "Lu, I'm sorry I wasn't here when... when it happened. I should have come home."
"You were in the middle of exams. And anyway, what could you have done?" I turn away from the mirror to face her directly.
Scarlett clears her throat. "Maybe we should focus on getting ready? The guests will be arriving soon."
Bella and I stare at each other for a moment longer before I nod. "You're right. Hand me those earrings, would you?"
I look at her, regret washing over me. Her hurt expression makes my chest tighten. This isn't her fault. None of this is her fault.
"I'm sorry," I say, reaching for her hand. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that."
Bella's eyes soften, but uncertainty lingers in her expression.
"It's just..." I struggle to find the right words. "I can't seem to control my feelings lately. Or my words. Everything comes out wrong or too harsh." I squeeze her fingers. "You didn't deserve that. I know you care."
"Of course I care," Bella says, her voice gentle. "I always have."
I look down at our joined hands. "I know you couldn't be here after. That wasn't your fault. I never blamed you for that."
"But I blamed myself," Bella admits. "I should have been here for you."
"You're here now," I say, feeling tears threatening to spill. I blink them back.
Bella stands, still holding my hand. "Lu, I want you to know something." Her eyes lock with mine, fierce and determined. "No matter what happens I will always be your one and only best friend. Nothing will ever change that."
The sincerity in her voice breaks something loose inside me. Before I can stop myself, I pull her into a tight hug, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume.
"I've missed you so much," I whisper against her hair.
"I've missed you too," she says, hugging me back just as fiercely.
My heart aches with the weight of everything. For a moment, I allow myself to be just Lucrezia, Bella's cousin and best friend.
Scarlett clears her throat softly. "Ladies, it's time. Everyone's waiting downstairs."
I pull back from Bella, giving her a watery smile. "Thank you."
She nods, understanding everything I'm not saying.
With a deep breath, I smooth down my dress and check my reflection one last time. The woman staring back at me looks confident, poised, ready to face the crowd below. It's the mask I've perfected over the last eighteen months.
"Let's go," I say, squaring my shoulders.
Bella links her arm through mine as we leave the suite. "I'm right beside you."
The elevator ride down to the grand ballroom feels too short. With each floor we descend, I can feel myself transforming—back straightening, chin lifting, expression carefully arranged into one of pleasant anticipation.
When the doors open, the sound of music and conversation washes over us. The Sartori Hotel's ballroom glitters with crystal chandeliers and floral arrangements in cream and gold. Hundreds of guests mill about in designer gowns and tailored suits, champagne flutes in hand.
And there, waiting at the bottom of the marble staircase, stands Bruno Sartori in a perfectly fitted tuxedo, his dark eyes finding mine immediately.
Behind him, I spot Damiano and Enzo, both looking uncomfortably formal. And just beyond them, standing against the wall with his eyes scanning the crowd, is Daniel.
My heart stutters in my chest.
Bella gives my arm a gentle squeeze. "Ready?"
I force a smile. "As I'll ever be."
Bruno stands at the bottom of the staircase, waiting for me with a practiced smile. I can't deny he's handsome—tall and broad-shouldered with olive skin and dark eyes that most women would find irresistible. His black hair is perfectly styled, not a strand out of place.
He could have any woman he wanted with a snap of his fingers. Models, actresses, socialites—they'd all line up for a chance with Bruno Sartori.
And I hate him for it.
Not for his looks or his wealth, but for the arrogance that radiates from him. The entitlement. The way he looks at me like I'm already his possession, a prize he's won rather than a person with thoughts and feelings.
"Your fiancé is staring," Bella whispers beside me.
I glance at her, surprised by the strange tone in her voice. Following her gaze, I realize she's staring at Bruno too, but not with the disgust or pity I expected. There's something else in her expression, something I can't quite place.
"Bella?" I nudge her gently.
She doesn't respond, her eyes still fixed on Bruno. I've never seen her look at a man this way before. Bella usually ignores men completely unless she's deliberately flirting, and even then, she never gives them this kind of prolonged attention. This unblinking stare that seems to drink him in.
"Bella," I say again, louder this time.
She blinks rapidly, as if coming out of a trance. "Sorry, what?"
"Are you okay?"
"Of course," she says quickly.
We reach the bottom of the stairs, and Bruno steps forward, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips. His touch sends an unpleasant chill down my spine.
"You look breathtaking, cara," he says, his eyes roaming over me.
"Thank you," I reply automatically, the words hollow.
I turn slightly. "Bruno, this is my cousin Bella. Bella, this is Bruno Sartori."
Bruno shifts his attention to Bella. "A pleasure to meet you, Bella."
"Likewise," Bella says, her voice slightly higher than normal.
An uncomfortable silence falls between us.
"I should go grab us some drinks," Bella suddenly announces. "Champagne for everyone?"
"That would be lovely," Bruno replies smoothly.
"I'll be right back," she says and leaves us alone.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. The ballroom swirls with activity around us.
"Can we talk?" I ask, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "Somewhere private."
Bruno's eyebrow lifts slightly, but he nods. "Of course."
He guides me toward a small alcove near the terrace doors, far enough from the crowd that we won't be overheard. The cool night air drifts in, bringing relief from the stifling atmosphere.
"Do you actually want this?" I ask bluntly once we're alone. "This marriage. For real."
Bruno studies me for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Then he laughs—not cruelly, but with genuine amusement.
"Let's be honest with each other, Lucrezia," he says, his voice dropping lower. "You and I would never be a real couple. Not in a million years."
The directness of his answer surprises me. "What do you mean?"
"You don't want me," he states matter-of-factly. "And I'm not the kind of man who gets married and has kids. Not really."
He leans against the wall, completely at ease. The confidence radiating from him isn't arrogance now, it's honesty.
"I like my freedom," Bruno continues. "I like women. Many women. I'm not built for fidelity."
"Then why agree to this?" I press.
"The same reason you did." He shrugs. "Family. Business. We do what we must for our people. Your brothers need my family's support against the Russians." His eyes harden slightly. "We both know how this world works."
I nod slowly, processing his words. There's something almost refreshing about his candor.
"So what are you suggesting? A marriage in name only?"
"Precisely." Bruno steps closer, lowering his voice. "We play the happy couple in public. Behind closed doors, we live our separate lives."
As he speaks, his hand slides around my waist, pulling me against him. To anyone watching, we look like lovers sharing an intimate moment.
I maintain my smile, perfectly practiced for the watching crowd, but my voice turns to ice.
"Keep your hands off me," I whisper through my teeth, "or I will tear your eyes out."
Bruno blinks, then throws his head back and laughs and draws glances from nearby guests.
"You really are something, Lucrezia Feretti," he says, but he releases me. "Message received."
He steps back, respecting my space while maintaining our public facade.
"Do we understand each other then?" I ask.
"Perfectly." Bruno nods, his expression serious despite the smile still playing on his lips. "A business arrangement. Nothing more."
"Good."
"But," he adds, his voice dropping to ensure only I can hear, "we still need to convince everyone else. Your family, my family, our enemies—they all need to believe this is real."
"I can play my part," I assure him.
Bruno studies me. "I believe you can. And I'll keep my hands to myself—unless the performance requires otherwise."
I return to the ballroom with Bruno, our silent agreement hanging between us. The crowd parts as we walk through, all eyes on the happy couple. I scan the room automatically, a habit I've developed since the incident.
That's when I see him.
Daniel stands near the bar, his posture rigid, eyes locked on us.
No—on Bruno. The look on his face makes my breath catch.
It's not the controlled, professional mask he usually wears.
This is raw, unfiltered rage. His jaw clenches so tight I can see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.
His eyes burn with such intensity that I'm surprised Bruno doesn't burst into flames on the spot.
Daniel Hayes wants to kill him.
The realization sends a jolt through me. I need to get away from Bruno before Daniel does something we'll all regret.
"I see some friends I should greet," I murmur to Bruno, who merely nods, already distracted by a business associate approaching us.
I make my way across the room, heart pounding. Evelyn stands near a potted palm with Hazel and Sienna, their heads bent together in conversation. Perfect.
"Ladies," I say, sliding into their circle. "Having fun?"
Hazel smiles warmly. "As much fun as one can have at these things."
Sienna just nods. She's still learning to navigate these events. I understand completely.
"The champagne is excellent," Evelyn says, raising her glass slightly. "Though I've had enough, I think."
She sets her glass down on a passing waiter's tray. Something about her seems off. Her face looks flushed, her breathing shallow.
"Are you feeling okay?" I ask.
Evelyn opens her mouth to respond, but instead, her hand flies to her throat. Her eyes widen in panic as she starts to gasp and choke.
"Evelyn?" Hazel steps forward, alarmed.
Before any of us can react further, Evelyn's eyes roll back and she crumples. I lunge forward, barely catching her before she hits the floor.
"Help!" I cry out, struggling under her weight. "Something's wrong!"
People turn to stare, but I don't care. Evelyn's lips are turning blue, her body convulsing in my arms.
"Daniel!" I scream his name without thinking, panic overtaking me. "Daniel!"
In seconds, he's there, Noah right behind him. They drop to their knees beside us.
"What happened?" Noah demands, already checking Evelyn's pulse.
"She just—she was fine and then she started choking," I stammer.
Noah tilts Evelyn's head back, checking her airway. "She's having an allergic reaction. Anaphylaxis."
"I called an ambulance," Hazel says, phone still in hand, her voice shaking.
Noah works with practiced efficiency, holding her on her side for the liquid to run out of her mouth.
The realization hits me like a physical blow. "Someone poisoned her," I whisper, horror washing over me. "Someone put something in her drink."
My eyes dart to the discarded champagne glass, now lost among the crowd. The room starts to spin around me.
"Lucrezia." Daniel's voice cuts through my panic. He's kneeling beside me, his hands on my shoulders. "Lucrezia, look at me."
I turn to him, but I can't focus. All I can see are his eyes—those incredible steel-blue eyes that somehow manage to be both ice and fire at once. Eyes that see through me, that know me better than I know myself.
"Your eyes," I murmur, reaching up to touch his face. "They're so..."
The world tilts sideways. Daniel's face blurs, his voice becoming distant as he calls my name. The last thing I feel is his strong arms catching me as darkness claims me.