Chapter 4 – Sara
Delaying my trip to the lake house until Sunday meant I had the rest of the week to brainstorm with my mother.
Talking to her about books and worldbuilding, however, was like chasing a squirrel through the blazing orange leaves.
The scatterbrained creature was too busy foraging for nuts to focus on my creation.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d inherited the mental tendencies from her.
Unlike Mamma, I trained my inner squirrel to work when there was writing to be done.
It was one of the few times we could coexist in peace.
In those rare sections of time I was able to capture Mamma’s attention, her flair for the dramatic irked me.
She stared into the beyond, waved her hands through the air with the slow grace of a dying queen, and spoke words into existence with fervor.
Getting through some of the backbone of my new book series wasn’t easy, but other moments were incredibly helpful.
Saturday night, I put on the ridiculous dress, sucking in my stomach as my mother laced the corset bodice behind me.
At least it was black. The skirt shimmered, iridescent with flickers of blue and green in the right lighting.
That was the compromise Mamma and I made at the last minute, since she wanted color.
“You’ll have to wear your contacts,” Mamma reminded me.
I grimaced, dreading the moment I stuck my fingers into my eyeballs and fit the slim discs in place. “I don’t have to wear the mask.”
Mamma gasped. “You most certainly do!”
“Are you going to make Papà wear one?” I countered.
A smile tipped up her lips. “Absolutely!”
My poor father.
“Do you need help getting ready?” I offered, folding my glasses and setting them on the vanity.
I reached for the unopened containers, trying to remember if these contacts were even my current prescription.
I peeled back the film and fished the first disc out.
At least I had some contacts left! At first I thought I’d lost them, but they’d been buried in the nightstand.
“No, no, Saverio will help me. I wanted to surprise him at the ball with my costume, but he argued that I would need help getting into it—and out of it!” Mamma said breezily.
“Go downstairs and wait for your date. Your father and I will see you at the ball. Do not fear for we might be a little late!”
Mamma was having her own Cinderella moment. I didn’t want to think of my parents’ active love life, but it was nice to know they still were crazy about one another after thirty-three years of marriage.
I wrestled the second contact into my eye, grabbed my mask, and scuttled downstairs. The ballet flats slipped on the carpet, but I held the railing for dear life. Thankfully, Mamma knew better than to have me wear heels. Only people with supermodel bodies like her could move in those death traps.
On the bottom step, I plopped down in a cloud of black chiffon.
I glared at the front door, readying my speech for whoever was crazy enough to show up as I tied the mask around the sleek hairstyle.
I’d forgotten to grab the bobby pins to help the mask’s straps stay in place, but I wasn’t about to risk it by going upstairs for them.
My parents’ bedroom door was closed, but it wasn’t soundproof.
A high pitched chime rang out from my clutch. I fished my phone out, but my heart sank when I saw an unknown number. There was no need to answer. It was my ex.
“I really need to get a new number,” I muttered.
And then you would have to explain to your parents why you need one.
Grinding my teeth, I declined the call then promptly blocked the number.
It wouldn’t stop Rob. He would just get a new one and contact me again.
It was a vicious cycle, but sooner or later, he would realize that I was never going to take his last name.
There were plenty of other girls who would jump at the chance to be his missus so they could enjoy his inheritance.
I just happened to be the first girl his Scrooge of a grandpa approved of, which was why Rob was this desperate to seal the deal.
A flicker of movement clued me in that there was someone outside. I shot to my feet—or tried to. There was too much skirt. I grappled with the material as the door swung open.
A figure wearing all black stepped through the front door. With him came a blast of chilly air, but that wasn’t the reason the hairs on my arms rose.
He didn’t knock.
He walked like he owned the place—and everyone in it.
“Just walk on in, why don’t you?” I groused, fluffing the dress around me.
He stopped short, staring at me from behind his mask. Maybe it was the contacts, but a frightening energy seemed to pulse around him. It came off in waves. My lizard brain yelped in warning.
If I could flee upstairs, I would have.
“A devil mask?” I asked coolly, hating the tremor that wanted to seep into my voice. “What’s up with that?”
One shoulder lifted a fraction.
Who the hell was he? I stared hard, trying to find any subtle clues that would tell me about my forced date.
The mask covered his entire face. There was a slit near the nose for him to breathe, but none for the mouth.
His hair was short and dark. In a town full of Italians and their descendants, that wasn’t helpful. There were no visible tattoos, either.
As I silently studied him, he stuck out his hand. I’d been too flustered by his sudden appearance that I completely missed the bouquet of black roses wrapped in matching tissue and tied with a midnight satin bow that he held.
“They’re beautiful,” I gasped without thinking.
His arm jerked, insisting I take them.
Inching forward, I plucked the bouquet, burrowing my nose in the blossoms. The lush scent flowed through me.
“Let me go put them in some water.” I turned, realizing too late that I’d put my back to the monster. I scooted to the kitchen, stopping in the formal dining room to grab a vase from the hutch. The skin at the base of my neck prickled, but I didn’t hear his footsteps.
As I filled the vase with tepid water, awareness brushed along my spine.
He hadn’t touched me. But his attention was like a caress.
After placing the flowers in the water and folding the tissue, I rounded on the man bold enough to demand a date.
He was right behind me.
The seductive scent, part alpine, but mostly him, rushed through my veins. I took a steadying breath, trying to battle the heat unfurling through me.
Get a grip!
I met his stare, flattening my hands on the counter.
“Look, I don’t know what you said to my father, but this—” I gestured between us “—is inconvenient. I’m not some mafia princess waiting to be swept off her feet by a Made Man.
I’m going to the ball because Papà asked, not because you twisted his arm. ”
His eyes hardened.
The mask made it hard to read him.
“You will not try anything with me,” I insisted. “I’ll hurt you, badly, if you do.”
His chin dipped slightly in acknowledgement.
I pursed my lips. “I can hurt you, and I will. So don’t get any funny ideas. And don’t demand another date from me. I’m off the market.”
A rough breath, one that could have been a laugh, escaped him.
That sound made my fists clenched. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
I marched past him, giving him a wide berth. I’d expected him to argue. To tell me that he could do whatever he liked with me, because he was more powerful than my father. The counterarguments I’d spent hours forming remained unused in the back of my mind. He hadn’t engaged with me.
He hasn’t said a word!
At the front door, I stopped short, glaring back at him. Or rather, up at him. He was so close. A fresh scent of his cologne made my nose tingle. I took shallow breaths, refusing to drink him in.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I demanded.
The devil shook his head.
“So, we’re spending the night in silence?!”
He nodded once.
How stupid. I’d expected at least a minimal conversation to bolster me through the teeth-pulling ordeal that was the harvest ball.
There was only one reason for his silence.
Well…two, actually. Either he couldn’t talk, which was sad but not his fault.
Or, the more likely reason, he wanted to be mysterious. Chatting would give away his identity.
So, I decided to do what I did best. I observed him.
We walked in silence to his car, which was one of the famiglia’s.
That meant he was close to the upper echelons of the organization to have access to a Rolls-Royce.
But since the don kept a garage available for his goons to use, it didn’t pinpoint who this Made Man was.
Plus, I already knew he was powerful enough.
That was why he was able to demand this farce from my father.
The bastard.
I should ditch him. Dance with someone else. But as he reached past me to open the door, my heart thumped against my ribs.
Cavolo, the mystery was thrilling.
My escort held out his hand to help me sit.
I didn’t see any marks or defining scars on his hands that would offer proof as to who he was.
Oh, there were scars. Lots of them. But that wasn’t unusual for a man of his profession.
He was tall and well built. His hair was dark and cut short.
I ground my molars in frustration as he closed the door and came around to the driver’s side.
I debated ripping off the mask.
I almost did it as we backed out.
But then he pressed play on the Bluetooth, and the haunted strains of Paganini swept through the cab.
The devil’s violinist.
How did he know? I twisted in my seat and peered at the masked man. The black roses. This heart-wrenchingly beautiful music. This man knew me.
“Have you always lived in the Cove?” I demanded.
My masked date nodded.
“Do we…know one another?” The words came out slightly breathless.
His grip on the wheel tightened, but he gave another dip of his head in assent.
I began to rattle off names. His lack of response didn’t unsettle me, though.
If he didn’t want to talk, then fine; I could chat for both of us.
The drive was short, since the venue was on this side of town, and he didn’t respond to a single name, only drove.
I couldn’t even pick out a subtle reaction to one of the names that would give him away.
That only made me all the more determined to figure him out.