Chapter Thirty-Nine
Sabrina
One dance.
That had been the agreement. Apparently, Dario had decided agreements were negotiable.
“I thought that was the last one,” I laughed as he tugged both my hands, spinning us into another uneven circle across the dance floor.
“It is.”
“You said that three songs ago.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Clearly.”
My back protested as I bent low enough to keep dancing with him.
At only four years old, Dario wasn't exactly the ideal dance partner, and after nearly twenty minutes, every muscle along my spine had begun complaining.
His laughter echoed through the ballroom as I spun him again, his tiny polished shoes struggling to keep pace with the music.
His giggles were so infectious that I couldn't stop smiling.
Eventually, even Dario slowed. Another yawn escaped him before he could hide it, and I brushed a hand through his curls.
“Ready for a break?”
“...Maybe.”
“I thought so.”
I took his hand and led him towards our table. We'd occupied the dance floor longer than anyone else that evening, and I was fairly certain my back would never forgive him.
We'd barely taken three steps when someone gently caught hold of my wrist.
I stopped and turned.
Luis Romero stood behind me.
My eyes flickered from the hand around my wrist to his face, confusion settling over my features.
“May I have this dance?”
Before I could answer, movement at our table caught my attention.
From the corner of my eye, I watched Matteo shove his chair back so abruptly it almost toppled over. He'd barely made it halfway to his feet before Mum calmly reached over, caught his arm and pulled him straight back into his seat.
I couldn't hear what she'd said from where I stood, but judging by the expressions around the table, it couldn't have been a request. Leonardo folded his arms across his chest while Luca looked ready to argue.
Carlo muttered something beneath his breath, and even Dad looked as though he was about to intervene.
Then Mum looked at him.
Dad quietly closed his mouth again.
A smile tugged at my lips. It never ceased to amaze me that Bianca Moretti could silence the head of the Italian Mafia with nothing more than a look.
An idea slipped into my mind. A terrible, brilliant idea.
I looked back at Luis.
“I'll dance with you.”
Before he could answer, a small voice interrupted us.
“No.”
Luis blinked.
So did I.
We both looked down to find Dario standing firmly between us, his little hands planted on his hips as he stared up at Luis with all the authority of someone twice his size.
Luis looked genuinely puzzled.
“No?”
Dario shook his head.
“You didn't ask.”
Luis glanced at me.
I lifted one shoulder innocently. “I don't know. He's very protective.”
Dario nodded once.
“I'm her bodyguard.”
“I see.”
“And if people want to dance with Sabrina...” He pointed firmly at himself. “They ask me first.”
For a moment, Luis simply looked at him. Then, without the slightest trace of amusement or impatience, he released my wrist and lowered himself onto one knee until they were eye level.
“Dario,” he said, every bit as serious as the little boy standing before him, “may I please have your permission to dance with Sabrina?”
Dario's eyes widened as he whipped his head towards me. He clearly hadn't expected Luis to take him seriously.
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself smiling.
Dario slowly looked back at Luis before his face scrunched up in concentration.
“Hmm...”
Luis waited patiently.
“I need to think about it.”
“Take your time.”
With all the importance of someone negotiating a peace treaty, Dario began pacing tiny circles in front of him, one hand tucked thoughtfully beneath his chin.
“Hmm...”
He completed another lap.
“Hmmmm...”
Not once did Luis interrupt him.
Finally, Dario stopped pacing.
“I have decided.”
Luis inclined his head respectfully.
“And?”
“You can.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Luis's mouth.
“Thank you.”
“But...”
Luis paused.
“But?”
Dario pointed two fingers towards his own eyes before slowly directing them at Luis.
“I'm watching you.”
A quiet laugh escaped Luis.
“I'll be on my best behaviour.”
Dario narrowed his eyes for another thoughtful second before giving a solemn nod.
“Good.”
Apparently satisfied, he took my hand and carefully placed it into Luis's before turning back towards our table. He'd made it halfway there when he stopped, looked back over his shoulder and pointed at Luis one last time.
“I'm still watching.”
Luis waited until Dario had reached our table before turning back to me.
“I suppose I should consider myself honoured.”
“You should,” I replied, watching Dario immediately climb onto Carlo's lap and begin enthusiastically retelling how he'd interrogated Luis. “Not many people survive questioning from my bodyguard.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
“I'll remember that next time.”
“I'd recommend it.”
He held out his hand. After a brief hesitation, I slipped mine into his, his fingers closing gently around my own.
His grip was warm and steady, and there was something unexpectedly reassuring about the gesture.
He didn't tug me forward or assume I'd follow.
Instead, he waited until I stepped beside him before leading me towards the centre of the ballroom.
Tonight, he looked every bit the heir to the Romero family.
His black suit was perfectly tailored, sitting neatly across his broad shoulders, while his crisp white shirt contrasted against his olive complexion.
His dark hair had been swept back, though a few stubborn strands had fallen loose, softening his otherwise sharp features.
There was nothing flashy about him; he simply had a presence that made people notice him.
“You surprised me,” I admitted as we moved between the other couples.
“By asking Dario?”
I nodded.
“You didn't have to.”
“No.”
“You could've laughed.”
“I could have.”
“You could've ignored him.”
“I could have.”
I looked up at him.
“So why didn't you?”
For a moment, he didn't answer. The orchestra carried us across the ballroom while conversations blended into the music around us.
“Because he wasn't joking,” he said eventually. “He was trying to protect someone he loves. Why would I laugh at that?”
The simplicity of his answer caught me off guard.
Most people would've seen an overprotective four-year-old playing pretend. Luis had seen a little boy protecting his sister.
By the time we reached the centre of the ballroom, another waltz had already begun. Luis turned towards me and offered his hand.
“May I?”
A smile found its way onto my face.
“I thought you'd already asked.”
“I asked Dario.”
“And now?”
“I'm asking you.”
I placed my hand in his.
His other hand rested lightly against the middle of my back as mine settled on his shoulder, leaving enough space between us to remain respectful while still close enough to dance comfortably.
The moment we began moving, I realised just how experienced he was.
Every step felt effortless. He never pulled or corrected me, somehow managing to guide me without making me think about where my feet were supposed to be.
“I wasn't expecting you to be this good.”
“I'll choose to believe that was a compliment.”
“It was.”
“I'm relieved.”
Despite myself, I laughed.
For the first minute, neither of us spoke. The orchestra carried us across the polished marble floor while the chandeliers scattered warm light over the ballroom. Around us, conversations continued uninterrupted, yet somehow everything beyond the music faded into the background.
It wasn't until halfway through the song that I realised I'd been watching him.
Or rather, watching what he wasn't doing.
Not once did his eyes drift towards the tattoos winding across my arms or the pale scars scattered over my skin. Since arriving on the island, I'd grown used to people looking.
Luis never did.
I caught myself waiting for his gaze to slip.
It never did.
The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.
“What?”
I blinked.
“What?”
“You've been trying to catch me.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“I think you do.”
“I really don't.”
His smile deepened, subtle enough that most people would've missed it.
“You're waiting for me to look.”
The words settled somewhere deep in my chest.
“...You noticed.”
“I notice a lot of things.”
I wasn't sure what to say.
“Most people...” My voice trailed off as I glanced briefly towards the ink covering my forearm. “...don't.”
He didn't follow my gaze. Instead, he held my eyes with that same calm, unwavering look.
“That's because they're looking in the wrong place.”
For reasons I couldn't quite explain, I believed him.
The orchestra carried us effortlessly across the ballroom, the polished marble floor gliding beneath our feet as couples drifted around us in practised elegance.
For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence settled comfortably between us, broken only by the music and the quiet murmur of conversations surrounding the dance floor.
Almost absent-mindedly, my gaze wandered towards my family's table.
Every single one of them was watching.
Matteo wasn't even pretending otherwise. Leonardo looked about ready to declare war over a single dance, Carlo was openly enjoying himself, and Dad looked torn between intervening and pretending he wasn't paying attention.
Only Mum looked thoroughly entertained.
A smile tugged at my lips.
“What is it?” Luis asked.
“My family.”
“I noticed.”
“I don't think my brothers approve.”
“I don't think they do either.”
The orchestra swept us into another turn, our steps remaining perfectly in time with one another. An idea quietly formed in my mind, and before I could talk myself out of it, I closed the distance between us by half a step, barely enough to make Matteo shift in his chair again.
Luis's mouth twitched.
“Still not enough.”
I looked up at him.
“What?”
“If you're going to do it...” His voice dropped until only I could hear him. “...commit.”
I couldn't help staring at him.
“You can't be serious.”
“I rarely waste opportunities.”
A laugh escaped me.
“You're a terrible influence.”
“So I've been told.”
After only the briefest hesitation, I lifted my hand from his shoulder and loosely wrapped both arms around the back of his neck. It brought us another fraction closer – still perfectly appropriate for the dance, but close enough that I knew exactly how it would look from across the ballroom.
Luis raised an eyebrow, looking almost impressed.
“There you go.”
“You encouraged this.”
“I merely offered a suggestion.”
I shook my head, trying not to smile.
The orchestra carried us through another turn. I could feel the weight of my family's attention without needing to look, but eventually my gaze drifted towards their table anyway.
Luis caught me before I'd even finished turning my head.
“No.”
I looked back at him.
“No?”
His hand remained steady against the middle of my back as he guided us through another effortless turn, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Keep your attention on me.”
My eyebrows lifted.
“Why?”
“Because every time you look back, they know they're getting a reaction.”
“And if I don't?”
The corner of his mouth curved ever so slightly.
“They'll spend the rest of the dance wondering why you haven't.”
I couldn't stop myself from laughing.
“You're unbelievable.”
Shaking my head, I forced myself to keep my eyes on him. Every instinct told me to look back, to see whether Matteo had finally stood up or whether Carlo was still laughing, but I didn't. Not once.
And neither, I realised, did Luis.