Chapter 3
The Flame
“Mrs Carbone,” Adrien said, grabbing her hand with a flourish and bending over it, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “You are looking as beautiful as ever. Pink always was your colour.”
I frowned at that. They barely even knew each other. Was he just complimenting her, or was I simply wrong?
“You’re too kind,” my mother beamed back, just as my dad got to his feet to shake his hand.
“Were we expecting you, Adrien?”
“Surprise visit, but no less welcome, I hope?” he asked with a laugh. “I found a gap in my schedule and couldn’t resist dropping by.”
When Adrien had entered, I’d noticed Marco stiffen next to me. But now he was standing up, extending his hand to him. “No less welcome than I am, I suppose. Seems we both went the surprise route tonight.”
“Indeed,” Adrien murmured back, their handshake seeming to last longer than necessary. And were their knuckles whiter? But the handshake ended before I could really analyse it.
My phone was buzzing endlessly on my knee, threatening to drop off the side. But I was more or less frozen, confused by the undercurrents of tension.
And, as reluctant as I was to admit it, I was kind of in awe seeing Adrien in the flesh.
I had seen him before. Of course I had. But it was always on video calls.
And he’d listened with bare minimum patience as we got to know each other, seeming pleasant enough, if not a little distracted.
But, like Mum said, that was to be expected from a businessman, especially one as successful as the Vescaris.
But seeing him in person was something I was wholly unprepared for.
When he’d reached over the table to shake Marco’s hand, the scent of his aftershave had filled my nostrils, and I’d had to give myself a stern talking to when I’d closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
The man was insanely good-looking. That went without saying. He was tall, dark hair, striking grey eyes, and he filled his suit effortlessly. His smile was full of beautiful, even white teeth, and he flashed small dimples every time he spoke. He was charming, graceful, and flawless. Picturesque.
And yet—and yet—there was something there. A quality I couldn’t put my finger on. Something that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
A feeling not too dissimilar to the ones I had felt the past few weeks when I’d been feeling eyes on me.
Had it been Adrien watching me?
It would make sense. But…
The thought vanished before I could make sense of my thoughts. Because he turned that easy smile over to me, pinning me down with his intimidating eyes.
I felt as though I was being inspected, not admired.
“And you know my daughter, Isabelle,” my father said proudly, his chest puffing with pride.
Luca: You’re technically his fiancé, and yet your father has to introduce you to Adrien. You have a fucked up family, little ember.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes.
I didn’t stand up, even though every male was standing.
My mother hadn’t, and I was taking my social cues from her.
Though it did make me feel at a disadvantage.
It felt as though he was staring down at me, already assessing my weaknesses, and where he could exploit them.
I shivered again.
“You’re just as beautiful in person as you are on camera,” he said smoothly, his gaze lingering on me for just a beat too long.
“Thank you.”
Luca: You’re more beautiful in person. The two aren’t even comparable. On camera, you are stunning. In person, you are fucking ethereal. Flawless. The man is a putz.
Adrien inclined his head to me respectfully, and then turned back to my father, accepting the invitation to join us for dinner.
Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he sat beside my mother, directly opposite Marco and diagonally across from me.
The staff immediately sprang to life, rushing to fill his glass with whiskey—Adrien’s choice of drink—and the cook brought out plates upon plates of food, allowing our guest of honour his pick.
Marco scoffed under his breath, having not been afforded the same treatment, and I subtly kicked him beneath the table before taking the opportunity to reply to Luca.
Isabelle: And how would you know, Mr Mysterious?
Luca: Don’t be na?ve. There hasn’t been a single day in the past three fucking years that I haven’t been close to you. You just didn’t look hard enough.
Now, what was that supposed to mean?
Marco noticed me and saw the perfect opening to get his revenge and kick me back. I placed my phone back under the napkin on my knee and gave him a sarcastic grin.
“… sold another house today,” my father was saying.
“I’m not surprised. If you’re anything like your dad, you’ll go far in life.”
“Thank you, Mr Vescari,” Marco said politely. “I’m learning on the job, so to speak, but I’m a natural.” He flashed the same easy smile Adrien was so renowned for, and leant back in his seat. His arm came around the back of my own chair, his fingers drumming on the wood behind me.
Adrien’s eyes followed his movement, flashing with a hint of displeasure for the briefest of seconds, before he turned his eyes back to me.
“So, Isabelle…” he said, my name lingering on his lips, those unnerving eyes staring at my face. “I’ve heard from everyone else this evening, but you’ve been awfully quiet. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
Luca: Tell him he’s a dead man.
Luca: Tell him you’ve been planning your escape.
Luca: Tell him to go to hell.
Luca: I’ll sort this, little ember. I promise.
“Isabelle picked a dress for the engagement party,” Mum answered for me.
Way to go, Mum! He’s going to think I have literally nothing going on upstairs.
“Did you?” he murmured. “Are you looking forward to the party?”
“It’s very nice,” I replied, focusing on the dress and nothing else. “A bit more to my mother’s taste than mine, but I’m sure it’ll look lovely once the fitting has been done.”
“You will look wonderful in anything,” he replied, causing my mother to beam her happiness.
“And you, Mr Vescari, what have you been doing with your time?” I asked.
“Adrien, please,” he admonished gently. “And we recently opened another hotel in Paris. It’s taken a lot of my time, but it’s a work of beauty. You must come and visit sometime. In fact, expect to receive an invitation for all of you coming very soon for the grand opening.”
“Paris,” my mother breathed, clapping her hands together. “Oh, how beautiful. That’s where we had our honeymoon, isn’t it, Vittorio?”
“Indeed it was, my darling. Happiest three weeks of my life.”
That was a lie.
My parents had entered into an arranged marriage, much like I was being forced into. I’d heard the stories of their honeymoon. My mother was so unhappy she’d destroyed the penthouse suite they were staying in, and my grandfather had to pay over five million to have it refurbished.
A story she now referred to as “water under the bridge” ever since my engagement.
“I’ve also extended an invitation to Silas,” Adrien said casually, and everyone around me froze.
“Silas… Falcone?” My dad asked.
“Of course. The hotel is right across the street from his casino. I’m hoping for a profitable partnership for the pair of us.”
“With Silas Falcone?” I practically spat.
I might be ignorant to a lot of what was happening around me, but I knew who Silas fucking Falcone was.
Mob boss. Murderer. Snake. Psychotic. Take your pick of any bad word, I guarantee you could apply it to him.
His family was old-school mafia. The type involved in shady underground dealings, not even bothering to hide in plain sight. They were open and proud of their businesses.
Rafael, the current don, and Silas’s grandfather, may take the crown for being the most unpleasant, repulsive man ever to come near me, but Silas was a close second.
I’d only had the misfortune of meeting him once. He was at my eighteenth birthday party, and truly I saw him as the bad omen for everything that happened that disastrous night.
“Silas isn’t as bad as you’d think. Strange little fucker, what with the mask and all,” Adrien chuckled. “But the man knows his business.”
“The man is a mafia prick,” I couldn’t help myself from saying.
Even only meeting him once, I knew he was dangerous. But even if I had never met him, I couldn’t escape his reputation.
He always wore a black suit. His hands were always hidden beneath black gloves. His face always concealed behind his silver phantom mask.
He never spoke. He barely moved. In fact, I hadn’t seen him move all night. And yet, he was always shifting about, lurking in one corner or another, his mask always looking in my direction.
The memory alone was enough to have my stomach churning.
“Isabelle!” my mother gasped. “Language! We have guests!”
“That’s quite alright, Sophie. I don’t mind my woman speaking her mind. Tell me,” he said, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands. “What is it that you don’t like? His mafia connections?”
“I—” how could I answer when his eyes were sparkling like that? As though there was so much left unsaid in his one simple question. “I don’t like his presence.” I finally settled on saying.
“Understandable. The man is very… peculiar. How did you get along with him, Vittorio?”
“I’m sorry?” My dad stammered.
“During your business meeting,” Adrien frowned, lowering one of his arms to the table and drumming his fingers against the cloth as he waited for an answer.
“Daddy?” I whispered, though no one appeared to have heard me.
What possible reason could my father have for entering into business with the mafia, for fuck's sake? The man sold houses for a living, not fucking guns!
“Well… I, err… I mainly worked with Rafael, but Silas was pleasant enough, I suppose, considering he doesn’t speak.”
“And you got the business all wrapped up nicely?” Adrien persisted.
“In a lovely bow,” my father bit back with a tic in his cheek—almost as if he was holding himself back.
“I heard there were some issues at the dock.”
“Taken care of,” my father waved his concerns away, his face paling considerably.
The room was silent, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. The only sound to be heard was Adrien’s occasional drumming of his fingers as he continued to stare at my father.
And then he nodded. “Good.” And life seemed to be breathed back into the room.
Luca: Say nothing else, Isabelle. I have this under control.
Isabelle: There’s nothing to bring under control, Luca. You’re being paranoid because you don’t like Adrien.
Luca: And you’re relaxing because you don’t know him.
Isabelle: And you do?
He didn’t answer. As expected.
Everyone began eating again, and conversation resumed much more pleasantly.
My mum told Adrien all about the arrangements she had made for the engagement party, he asked Frank’s permission to measure my finger for the ring (although why had he looked so mockingly at my bodyguard when he said it?) and he had even coaxed my brother into talking about his love life.
Everything seemed so normal. So calm.
And yet my skin was buzzing with warning.
A warning I didn’t understand, but I was damn sure going to get to the bottom of it.
Isabelle: What do you have under control? How are you involved here?
Again with the typing bubble appearing and disappearing. Maybe I had never noticed it before, but I could swear Luca had never been this careful with his words before.
Luca: It’s obvious you’re uncomfortable, little ember. And I’m not involved. I just know Adrien’s guards.
I smothered a gasp, though I wasn’t entirely surprised. Luca was clearly involved in something I had no idea of. He had cameras covering every inch of this house, had somehow got my number, and had even managed to sneak roses into my bedroom before.
Knowing Adrien’s guards took me off guard for the briefest flash of a moment, but it wasn’t completely unrealistic.
It did, however, blow the last remaining shutters off my innocence. Clearly I was involved in something bigger here. Something monumental. And I hated not knowing what it was.
A rush of activity from the corner caught my attention just as I was beginning to reply. A suited man came over and whispered in Adrien’s ear. His lips thinned as he listened, and his eyes flashed lightning.
“I’m very sorry,” he said once he’d waved his employee away. “It seems something has come up and I’m needed elsewhere.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” my mother said. “I hope it’s nothing too serious?”
“A small fire,” he replied tightly, though he did bestow upon her a glorious smile that had her face flushing.
I guarantee that’s the only thing she remembers about tonight.
“A fire?” my dad repeated.
“And a meeting with Silas. It appears something has pissed him off. You best come with me, Vittorio. Wednesday was mentioned.”
“But… but we sorted the issue at the docks and—”
“Now, Vittorio!” Adrien barked, raising his voice for the first time. I almost jumped out of my skin. But the flash of anger was gone in the next second, and Adrien was pushing his chair backwards, buttoning up his jacket as he stood.
“I’ll wait for you in the car. Marco, Mrs Carbone… Isabelle.” He inclined his head at everyone else, but his gaze lingered on mine, locking eyes with my own, holding me hostage under his piercing grey stare.
And then he turned, and the breath whooshed from my lungs.
My father got to his feet, placing a kiss first on my cheek and my mother’s, and then rushed from the room, leaving us all utterly perplexed as to what the fuck had just happened.