SAMANTHA
I fight tears just seeing Dante. God, the way he looked at me, something raw in his ice-blue eyes…. But I have to move on. He’d told me himself that this couldn’t go anywhere.
And he’s right.
It couldn’t. It can’t.
Nothing’s changed.
Except that I’m carrying his baby.
But Sofia and I talked about it. “What if you find a new boyfriend? Get married or something? You’d have to do it fast,” Sofia had suggested.
I stared at her. “You want me to baby trap someone?”
She winced. “I guess so.”
I thought about it. “I don’t know. But maybe I could at least try to move on. And if it happens that I do get serious with someone, then…”
“Then you could pass the baby off as his.”
I winced that time. “That sounds so horrible.”
“But is it? It’s not like Dante will ever find out.”
And my father would never find out.
That’s the important part. And now that I’ve been with Dante, now that I felt that, how could anyone else compare?
Did it matter who I moved on with, as long as they were good with kids?
I decided it didn’t. So at this party, I’m going to do my best to stop thinking about Dante.
Which is a near impossible feat, especially since every time I look up, his eyes are on me.
Reese arrives and I breathe out a sigh of relief, rushing to him. “Sorry I couldn’t invite Vaughn, given she’s the daughter of the devil and all.”
He snorts out a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. She’s mad at me anyway.”
“Why?” I take his arm, leading him over to the corner of the house, Sofia on our heels.
“Don’t tell me you two are broken up again,” Sofia hisses.
Reese shakes his head but he looks a bit glum. “Not yet, anyway. She didn’t want me coming here.” He snorts out a laugh. “Get this. She’s jealous of Samantha.”
Sofia bursts out laughing. “Sam is like the last person she should be jealous of.”
“I know. I keep telling her she’s like a little sister to me.”
“I’m only two weeks younger than you.”
“Still. Baby sister,” he teases, ruffling my hair.
I whine. “Hey, took me hours to curl that!” I head to a nearby mirror, fixing it.
“She’s trying to find a hubby,” Sofia whispers to him, almost conspiratorially.
Reese’s eyes widen. “No shit. Really?”
“Not exactly. Just trying to move on.”
“Me too,” Sofia says, too loudly.
I groan. I knew it was a bad idea to let her get into the champagne early.
“Water for you,” Reese says flatly, leading Sofia over to a table filled with water bottles.
I walk over to grab myself a ginger ale from the bartender at the open bar. I’ve already slipped him a hundred to keep them coming in a champagne flute. No one will have any idea I’m not drinking.
I look down at my dress, hoping that my stomach hasn’t swelled. I was premature, almost two months, but weighed six pounds, so it isn’t so unusual. That’s what I’d claim to my future boyfriend or husband.
I want to shiver just thinking about it, just imagining hands on me that aren’t Dante’s. It seems wrong, somehow. Like I’m cheating on him just thinking about it.
My eyes scan the room for him. I find him at the top of the stairs, watching me, standing with his hands braced on the railing. This is made considerably harder by the way he’s staring at me, his blue eyes boring into my soul. But I have to ignore him.
I have to move on. Not just for me. For my baby.
“Samantha, was it?” The voice behind me makes me jump, and I splash a little ginger ale on my hand. “Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. It’s me, Ethan. We met at a party a few months ago?”
Ethan. His face flits through my mind—handsome, young, all-American. I wonder how he got an invite.
“Oh. Fancy seeing you here,” I tease, trying to keep my voice as light as possible.
“Your father invited me. Didn’t mention you’d be here,” he murmurs.
I blink. “You know my father?”
He grins, showing a dimple in his left cheek. “I’m Ethan Moretti.”
My mouth drops open. “Cecil Moretti’s son.”
“One and the same.”
“Jesus,” I whisper. Cecil Moretti is one of my father’s closest allies, dating back to when their fathers were dons. “You look so…” I start, then trail off.
He laughs. “White? I know. Take after my mother.” He has dark hair. Blue eyes. Not the same ice-blue as Dante’s, but still.
Close enough.
“Do you want to dance, Ethan Moretti?” I ask, holding my hand out to him, and he grins wider, taking it. We sway out on the dance floor with a few other couples, including Sofia and Reese. She’s leaned against his chest, nearly crying against him. She’s still on the outs with Dmitri.
I can sympathize, but I can’t even think about how heartbroken I feel right now. I have to focus on my baby and the future.
“How do you feel about kids, Ethan?”
Ethan blinks before spinning me around once. “That’s a pretty deep question for a first dance, Miss Capetti.”
“Does that mean you won’t answer?”
“No. I’ll answer. I love kids. Have about a million cousins.”
“So you’re good with them?”
“Great. I want half a dozen,” he says easily, smiling at me. “Why? You like kids?”
“I do,” I say, and that at least is honest. Back when Mama was alive, sometimes we’d visit her side of the family, and I had a few cousins that were much younger.
I glance up at Dante. It’s almost unconscious. He’s still standing at the top of the stairs, but Papa’s with him. Papa’s talking, but Dante’s staring at me. I meet his eyes and for a moment I stop dancing.
“Samantha?” I tear my eyes away, looking at a different pair of blue eyes. It’s almost jarring.
“Lost you for a second,” he says softly, smiling. He reaches out and brushes a curl back from my face.
It’s all too much, suddenly. Too big. All the oxygen seems to go out of the room. “Sorry. Just need to… grab some water…”
He stands there, his smile turning to a frown, as I rush over to the water table. I take one of the small bottles, sipping it slowly. Reese and Sofia make their way over to me. Sofia looks a little more present. Reese must have gotten some water into her.
“Are you okay?” Sofia asks quickly, her own heartbreak forgotten.
I gasp in air. “I don’t know. I just suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
“You can breathe,” Sofia says firmly, taking hold of my shoulders. “Just look at me and keep breathing.”
My breath hitches as I remember getting grazed by a bullet. Dante’s voice. “Breathe with me.”
I take in breaths through my nostrils, letting them out my mouth, and slowly, my heart stops trying to gallop out of my chest. “I think I need some air.”
Reese nods. “The balcony’s empty. We’ll wait right here for you.”
I nod and hurry out of the balcony doors, looking down over Mama’s garden. Papa insisted on keeping it up. I breathe in, smelling honeysuckle and the spring air. It calms me.
I stiffen as footsteps sound behind me. I smell him before I even turn around, soap and gun oil and the sandalwood aftershave he uses. He walks up behind me. Places his hand next to mine on the railing. I breathe him in, let my heart flutter.
“Why are you doing this?” Dante murmurs against my ear, not quite touching me, but so close that I could lean back and press my back against his broad chest.
I don’t know how to answer. It’s not like I can tell him.
“I have my reasons,” I say finally.
“Are you trying to hurt me?”
I flick my eyes up at him. His face is contorted, mouth twisted, brow furrowed. He’s breathing hard, as if he’s fighting something.
“No.”
He breathes out shakily against the back of my neck and drops his head. Plants an open-mouth kiss there that makes my knees weak. “You know it’s killing me, don’t you, tesoro?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them again, trying to fight burning tears. I tremble as his fists tighten on the railing next to mine. Then he lifts himself off the railing, straightens up with a ragged breath.
He heads back inside.
Tears start to slip down my face, and I can’t stop them. I just stand there at the railing, sobbing, until I slowly start to calm down.
Great. I’ve cried off all my makeup. I head back inside and grab Sofia, pulling her into the downstairs bathroom with me. She frowns when she sees my face.
“What happened?”
“Dante,” I choke out. “But don’t make me talk about it, I’ll never stop crying.”
“Okay,” she says softly, and places her big bag in the sink, digging out makeup products. By the time she’s finished, I almost look normal. My face is slightly puffy, but I can blame that on champagne.
I breathe out a sigh of relief, smiling at my reflection. “Thanks, Sof.”
“You’re welcome.”
Her phone starts to buzz in her purse and she tugs it out and looks at it, her eyes widening before she silences it.
“Dmitri?”
“Who else?” she groans.
“Why don’t you answer it?” I ask her quietly. “Maybe things could be different.”
“How? How could they be different?” She sounds almost desperate. It’s as if I could give her any reason and she’d accept it.
“I don’t know.”
When we exit the bathroom, though, she heads out the front door, calling Dmitri back. “Dollars to donuts he comes to pick her up,” Reese drawls. “She was supposed to be my date tonight.”
“Not for real?” I raise an eyebrow.
Reese snorts. “Please, if you’re my little sister, Sofia’s my annoying big sister. She was just supposed to distract me.”
“I can distract you.”
“What about Moretti?”
I shrug. “Turns out I’ve got a guilt complex about baby trapping a nice guy. He seems like a nice guy.”
“He actually is,” Reese agrees. He sighs. “Why couldn’t we have fallen in love with someone easier?”
“You think this could ever be easier?” I ask incredulously.
He chuckles and puts an arm around me. “I guess not.”
I look up at the top of the stairs. Dante isn’t there anymore. Is he even watching me? Ricardo’s here, somewhere, and Papa, so it’s not like he has to be here.
Maybe he left. I hate the way the thought puts a rock in my throat.
I do need to move on.
But maybe not tonight.