Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Idon’t know how I let Charlotte talk me into these things.
I’ve just arrived at Carlo and Antonia’s.
They’re having a dinner party with all their friends.
I’m just the ringer in, also the only one that isn’t part of a pair, which is glaringly obvious when I sit down at the table.
There’s an empty chair next to me. I always feel weird at these fancy dinners, but knowing these are Charlotte’s new friends and Emmanuel’s old friends makes me feel even more out of place.
“Fuck,” Carlo hisses as the sound of the elevator rings out through the apartment.
“Pay up, fuckers. Ten G, each of you.” Louie points from Sammie to Carlo.
“What’d you bet on now?” Charlotte asks her husband.
“How long it’d take for Emmanuel to show up,” he replies. And sure enough, that’s exactly who just walked through the door.
My back straightens. He messaged me about twenty minutes ago and asked what I was doing. I told him about this dinner.
“Thanks for the invite,” Emmanuel directs to Carlo.
“I was hoping it got lost in the mail,” Carlo grumbles. They have an odd friendship, these men.
“Tío E! Guess what? Guess what?” Jazzy bounces up and down in her seat.
“What, princesa?” The smile Emmanuel gives his niece melts my damn ovaries.
I’ve never once wanted to have children, even if Charlotte and I have daydreamed about our futures together.
I don’t deserve them. I’m not motherly material.
It’s an unfamiliar sensation I’m experiencing right now, though.
Does Emmanuel want kids? I probably should have thought of that before I asked him to marry me.
I’m thankful that he at least had the smarts to turn me down, or at least to tell me we had to wait.
“I get to go to a new school, and Daddy bought us a new house. And I’m getting a little brother or sister!” Jazzy announces to the room.
Antonia chokes on her wine. “Not anytime soon,” she clarifies through a fit of coughing.
“You good?” Carlo rubs a hand up and down his wife’s back.
“Uh-huh.” Antonia nods, her cheeks now glowing red.
“And I’m getting cousins from Uncle Louie,” Jazzy adds.
I look across to Charlotte. This is news to me. She shakes her head.
“Seems people have been busy,” Emmanuel says, taking the seat right next to mine. His hand lands on my leg under the table, and I shake it off without sparing him a look.
“You moving back to town?” Sammie asks.
“I might.” E shrugs. “If something keeps pulling me back here.” As he says this, I feel the heat of his stare on the side of my face.
Don’t look at him. Don’t look. Don’t look, I chant in my head.
I can’t do this. Dinner with his friends, like we’re a real couple.
You just asked the man to marry you. You are a real couple. The voice in my head pops up. I shove it down. I don’t need rational thought right now.
“What’s in the soup, Antonia?” Emmanuel asks.
“Vegetables,” she says.
“You don’t like vegetables?” he questions while eyeing her differently-colored soup bowl.
“They brought up carrot and coconut for Carlo. I swapped,” she replies with a shrug. “Carlo doesn’t like coconut.”
“I’m not that fond of vegetables.” Emmanuel reaches over the table and swaps bowls.
Now I do look at him. The man loves vegetables. I know. I’ve been forced to eat all kinds of them with him.
“Ah, I’ve already eaten some of it,” Antonia says.
“How much?” Emmanuel asks her.
“Just a little,” she tells him.
“It’s fine. I’m going to get myself a drink. Louie, show me where the kitchen is.” Emmanuel stands, taking his new bowl of soup with him.
Carlo shoves his chair back and follows Louie and Emmanuel out of the dining room. Odd. What the hell is his problem with that bowl of soup?
Sammie is the only male left at the table. “Any idea?” Antonia asks him.
“Nope, but this soup is real good, Antonia,” he says with an easy smile.
A few minutes later, everyone returns to the dining room. I have no idea what’s going on. There was some mention about the soup being poisoned and Jazzy got upset. Next thing I know Antonia is picking the girl up and walking out. Then Emmanuel, Carlo, and Louie start clearing the table of food.
Antonia comes back in with Jazzy still in her arms. She looks around in confusion. I’m with her. I have no idea what’s happening, but I also don’t want to be the one to ask.
“There was a problem in the kitchen. I ordered pizza. Should be here soon,” Carlo says.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! What happened?” Antonia gasps.
“The cook had an accident, cut his finger and bled into the food,” Carlo explains. “But everyone loves pizza.”
“I love pizza!” Jazzy chimes in excitedly.
“Only monsters or aliens don’t like pizza, Jazz,” Sammie tells her. I agree. Pizza beats vegetables any day.
Emmanuel leans in and whispers in my ear, “Did you eat that soup?” he asks quietly.
I shake my head while frowning at him.
“Good. Don’t eat anything. I’ll get you something after we leave,” he says.
“I’m just going to use the restroom.” I push up from the table.
“Want me to show you where it is?” Jazzy offers.
“I’ll show her.” Emmanuel stands before I can protest.
“I’m sure you will,” Louie mumbles.
Ignoring the stares, I let Emmanuel lead me out of the dining room, his hand on my lower back, because I don’t want to cause a scene. As soon as we’re out of view, I shake away from his touch.
“What’s going on?” I ask in a hushed tone.
“What do you mean?” He takes me by the elbow, leading me into the hallway. He then opens a door and drags me into the bathroom.
“What was wrong with the food? You’re acting strange,” I ask him.
“I don’t trust it. I think it was poisoned,” Emmanuel says.
I frown. “Who would want to poison Antonia’s dinner party?”
“Everyone at that table has a long list of enemies,” Emmanuel grunts. “But you’re okay. It was the orange one that was poisoned, not yours.”
“Wait… You didn’t eat it, did you?” My eyes go wide.
Emmanuel smiles. “You worried about me, mi alma?”
“No, Emmanuel. Every girl dreams about their boyfriend being poisoned to death.” I roll my eyes at him.
“Fiancé,” he says.
“What?”
“I’m not your boyfriend, mi alma. I’m your fiancé.”
“You are insane.” I shake my head from side to side. A stupid smile spreading across my face.
“Why are we still not telling people about us?” he asks.
“Because I don’t want to yet.” Truth is…
I don’t know why. I guess it’s because, when he does decide I’m not good enough and leaves me alone, I won’t be as embarrassed?
I have this fear that he’s going to wake up one day and realize his mistake.
No matter how much I might look like his dead girlfriend, I will never be her.
“We should get back in there. Remember, don’t eat anything. I’ll get you something when we leave.”
“If you think the pizza is poisoned, why are you letting your friends eat it?”
“Because them, I can lose. You, I can’t,” Emmanuel tells me.
“You know, that’s sweet in a really messed up way.” But it’s the same thing he said to his mother, right before he shot her. “Get out. I need to pee,” I say as I shove him through the bathroom door.
Emmanuel walks out, and I turn on the tap. Because knowing him, he’s standing right on the other side of the door. And that’s exactly where I find him when I finish up and step into the hallway.
“You ready to get out of here?” he asks.
“Um, I’m going to leave first. You wait thirty minutes before following me,” I tell him.
“Room 666. Meet me there,” Emmanuel says.
“Why 666?” I ask, suddenly curious. It’s the same room number he uses at the Royal.
“It’s the room I book out in all of their hotels. Where else would the devil stay when he comes to town?” E adds with a wicked smirk.
“Ah, his own compound?” I laugh.
When I get back to the table, I make up an excuse that I have a migraine and I need to leave. Charlotte offers to come with me, but I manage to convince her that I’m fine. I think everyone was surprised when Emmanuel didn’t get up and follow me out.
He didn’t need to, though. As soon as I step off the elevator on level six, two of his men are there waiting for me. “Miss Carter.” One of them nods politely at me.
“Evening,” I mumble and then make my way to the room that says 666 on the door. I tap the magic card across the panel and it clicks open. This suite is nice. I wonder how often Emmanuel stays here? Has he brought other women here?
Five minutes after I arrive, there’s a knock at the door. That’s weird. I knew Emmanuel wouldn’t wait the full thirty, but I didn’t expect him to knock either.
“Did you forget your key?” I open the door. A gasp leaves my mouth, and my hand rises to cover it. “What happened?” I ask a bruised-and-bloodied Paz.
“Where’s E?” he questions.
“He’s not here. What happened? Shit, come in.” I hold the door open. The guy has seen better days.
Paz limps his way inside. When I go to help him, he flinches. “Don’t touch me,” he hisses.
“I’m sorry.” I close the door and look around the room. “What can I do?” I have no idea how to actually help him.
“Call E. Don’t tell him I’m here, just insist that you need to see him.”
“Okay, I can do that.” I look at Paz as he falls on to the sofa. One of his eyes is swollen shut, his lip is cut, and there are scrapes and bruises all up his torso. Did he walk through the casino like that?
I grab my phone out of my purse and dial Emmanuel’s number. “Mi alma? Did you get to the room okay?” he answers.
“Uh, yeah. C-can you meet me now?” I stutter.
“What’s wrong? Who’s there?” I hear his footsteps. There’s an echo on the phone.
“I, ah, I just need you to come, E,” I tell him.
“I’m going to be right there. I’m on the elevator now. Do not hang up,” he says.
“Okay.”
Paz groans as he tries to get into a more comfortable position.
“Shit.” I walk over to the bucket of champagne on the table. Obviously Emmanuel was planning to come back here tonight.
“What was that?” he asks.
“I stubbed my toe,” I lie.
“Evie, what’s going on? Come on! Why won’t this thing move faster.” He sounds like he’s hitting a door.
“I’m okay, E. It’s not me,” I whisper as I walk into the bathroom and find a hand towel.
“I’m almost there.”
I can hear the sound of the elevator opening. When I make it back out to the living room, I pick up some ice and wrap it in the towel. Just as I’m handing it to Paz, the door bangs open, hitting the wall with a loud thud. Paz jumps up, shoving me behind him.
Emmanuel runs into the suite with his gun raised. “What the fuck?” he grunts, his voice calm when he turns to me. “Evie, come here.”
I step around Paz. “You need to sit down. Put some ice on your face. And both of you need to lower your damn guns.”
“Evie, come here,” Emmanuel repeats, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
I walk over to him. I have no idea what’s happening, but Paz is his most trusted man, so why is his being here sending Emmanuel into a frenzy?