Chapter 27 #3
Dante and Bo are already seated at the table next to ours, but as we settle into our assigned places, I'm yearning for some of Mimi’s positivity right now.
I hoped we’d be together and that they could somehow make this easier.
As another man greets the senator, Xavier presses a hand to my back, and we sink into our seats together. “Are you okay?”
I nod, glancing up at him and the concern that exists solely in his eyes. “Yes.”
“We won’t stay long.”
“Promise?”
His tempting mouth tilts into a smirk. “How about this? We skip dessert.”
“Can we do that?”
“We can do anything we want.”
I slip my hand into his, shaking it. “Deal.”
His laugh alone does wonders to calm me. “I didn’t know we were doing business.”
“What do you want in return? ”
His gaze darkens several shades. “Ask me that when we’re alone.”
Once the senator has delivered his grand speeches, occupying the stage for nearly an hour with promises and visions of a better term than his last, the party truly begins.
Drinks are served every couple of minutes.
The meal starts with sparkling prosecco and aperitivos.
Antipasti and frito misto follow, along with veal shanks glazed in a mushroom marsala sauce.
Charcuterie precedes dessert. Throughout the meal, the topics at the table of honor lose their formality, aided by the revolving liquor.
Although a glass or two might have calmed my nerves and loosened my nervous tongue, I immediately turned down the waitress’s offer of another flute. Xavier takes the drink, but never actually sips it. He’ll hold it and convince everyone that he’s having a great time, but it’s an act.
Throughout most of the meal, while making small talk with the senator’s wife about the flower arrangements and the women’s club she wants me to join, I find myself comparing the man I married to who he is now, how different he has become.
Stepping out of his father’s imposing shadow after years spent juggling an undercover crime organization and several semi-reputable businesses, Xavier pauses before each answer, carefully choosing the words that come out of his mouth.
The table scrutinizes every syllable, each person hanging on all of his responses, hoping to catch him slip up and see beneath the impenetrable mask of control.
He can steer a failing conversation with a word, effortlessly navigating the uncomfortable questions directed at me with charming ease .
Just like in the past, when desperate men sought time with his father, they now wait in corners for a break in the conversation, boldly approaching the table for a chance to talk to him and invite him to clubs, golf courses, and conferences.
Xavier’s control of the harbor is something to covet, and they’ll do anything to get a piece.
Only beneath the table do I notice Xavier’s leg moving, a sign of anxiety.
He’s taken on the bulk of the conversation, saving me more than once, and it must be exhausting to be that alert.
When my hand rests on his thigh, that movement ceases.
He gives me a gentle smile, a silent thank you, just before the senator asks for his opinion on the latest permit infractions that Congress signed into law.
That’s when I check out of the conversation, scanning the room for our friends.
Dante and Zeke are sitting at the bar on the south side of the room. Mimi is chatting with a woman at another table, wearing an awestruck expression. Whoever she’s speaking to, it’s clear she’s a fan. Bo is on his own, digging into his meal. I lean in close to Xavier. “I’m going to talk to Bo.”
I hop a table over and lower myself into the seat beside Xavier’s most trusted confidant and best friend, nudging him with my shoulder. “Xavier mentioned that you’ve been dating someone for a while. What’s going on there?”
“Hm? Oh, Denise.” He smirks, revealing there’s clearly a complicated answer to that question. “She’s not the type to go to these things.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Three,” he says, pointing at himself. “But it’s an aspect of my life that she can’t stand, one of many things she doesn’t like… We actually ended things the other night.”
“I don’t even need to give you my advice. You know what I'm going to say.”
“That this shit isn’t worth losing her over? ”
I nod, grabbing his hand so he hears me. “Don’t sacrifice her for it, Bo.”
“I'm not sacrificing for this life, Sophie. I'm doing it for him.” His eyes bore into the back of Xavier’s head before shifting to his brother and friend at the bar. “For them.” Then he looks at me. “And for you. The people I care about. I love her, but I’ll be six feet under before I abandon my family, and she knows that.”
He gives me a once-over. “Look at you. Primped up like you used to be, forced to rejoin a family that nearly killed you. It’s a sacrifice. Xavier’s partnership with corrupt bastards he can’t stand? His blood-stained hands? That’s sacrifice. We’re all sacrificing something.”
“Yeah, well, love is different.”
“You’re right. Maybe the fact that I can walk away is reason enough. It had potential in the beginning, but our worlds are so fucking different. I have no intention of dragging someone into danger like Dante has.” He chuckles. “Granted, Mimi isn’t scared of anything.”
Seeing her forcing Dante onto the crowded dance floor, tugging at his massive arm, I nod. “No, she isn’t.” I watch him take a swig of beer. “I'm sorry, Bo.”
His mouth tilts, not wholly a smile. “Don’t be.”
“Thank you, by the way.”
He leans into his seat, his tuxedo jacket draped over the back of the chair. “For what?”
“Telling Xavier where I went. You kept your promise.”
“If I could’ve gotten him on that plane after you, I would have.” He shakes his head, observing the room with a blatantly distrustful gaze. “It took him months to recover physically, but his mind is what really suffered.”
“He won’t tell me what Arturo did to him.”
“Dante said on the day they broke him out of Vito’s warehouse,” my eyes widen as I process my father’s role in this, “he was strung up to a pipe by his wrists.” My hand slips off the table. “Dante has a hard time talking about it. Xavier won’t speak of it, but Dario was there.”
“Dario?”
“He was the one who Arturo ordered to hurt him.”
Dario was there when my father …
Xavier’s half-formed sentence in our dimly lit bedroom makes sense now. I should’ve known. Dario knows what they did to me because Arturo was forcing Xavier to relive it.
That was part of the punishment.
I’m suddenly nauseous.
“And he keeps him close ? His consigliere, for fucks sake?”
“Dario may have beaten him, but he also spread discontentment through the families. He’s the only reason Arturo’s men turned on him in the first place.
Xavier offered him rank, and he took it.
Men like him always jump at opportunities.
He made Xavier a Don, allowed him to get his revenge and in return, Dario got what he wanted. Power.”
My hands fist in my lap. “Jesus.”
“In a way, I think you guys ruined my relationship.” I hit him, and he rolls his eyes, popping the last piece of steak into his mouth. “What I had with Denise isn’t like this.” He points between me and Xavier. “What he would do for you, Sophie… I don’t even think you realize.”
My gaze lands on my husband’s tousled waves and subtle smile as he leans in to speak to the senator. The table erupts with laughter, captivated by his presence. “I’ve never deserved him.”
“Wrong.”
“Bo.”
“You’re wrong ,” he says.
Zeke drops into a chair next to him, breaking the tension built during our intense conversation. He wraps an arm around Bo’s shoulder and shakes him until they laugh .
A loud collective groan echoes from the table beside us as Xavier rises from his chair, oblivious to the hungry gazes of women crossing his path.
His eyes find mine with ease. My veins surge with desire as he takes my hand, drawing me to the dance floor without a word.
He already knew this is where I’d want to be.
The romantic pull of violin strings mirrors the way my chest melds into his, a gravitational force too powerful to resist.
Bo’s revelations are heavy on my thoughts.
To feel Xavier in my grasp, knowing it’s a miracle he’s there at all, I can’t contain myself.
My hand dips under his jacket, grounded by the sensation of the muscular ridges of his back.
And he doesn’t stop me. My other hand is nestled between us, captured in his as we sway to the Mediterranean rhythm—the soft beating of drums, guitars, and strings.
This reminds me of our honeymoon, dancing on that rooftop.
And, like then, I long to be anywhere but in public.
My cheek abandons his chest, my eyes lifting, seeking his.
But he’s already there, releasing my hand to hold my face, exhaling before his lips fall into mine with exquisite softness.
My stomach flips in the best way when I hear a few quiet gasps beside us from other dancers, who watch as his mouth parts mine, his unhurried tongue driving past my lips.
I want him— irrationally .
My lips deepen against his, my toes straining in these heels to bring me closer to him. In a very public display of affection, I wipe the lipstick that has stained his mouth, breathing desire into him. “Is dessert out yet?”
The flush painting the sharpness of his cheeks is what the cameras flashing in this direction will capture. “I don’t care… We’re leaving.”
An elderly couple gapes as I grin, still trying to remove the smeared lipstick from Xavier’s mouth as he drags me to the table, snatching my clutch off my place setting, offering an abrupt goodbye to the senator and his prestigious inner circle before we move on, crossing the room.
Mimi whistles as we pass their table, and I'm not even mortified like I should be to be leaving so soon. The security detail falls back as Xavier guides me into the limousine, shamelessly telling Michael to “drive.”
Just drive.