Chapter Two
Chiara
I step out of the car and nervously smooth my dress over my thighs.
I’ve gone with a long golden designer gown.
The cut is classic, but it hugs my figure at the right places, and I know that it complements my warm skin tone and makes my blonde hair glow.
And the long sleeves hide the bruises on my arms. My nerves are shot and my stomach is roiling, but I breathe through it all.
Tonight, I am changing my fate. Whatever the outcome is, at least I’ll get out of this emotional limbo I’ve been living in.
Inside, I immediately spot Lily and Damiano at the far end and go over to greet them. My sister hugs me and Damiano gives me a nod. We exchange a few minutes of polite conversation, but my mind isn’t here. My nerves are shot and I feel sick to my stomach. I hope I don’t throw up.
His voice suddenly booming behind us makes me startle. “Hey, aren’t those my favorite girls?”
Lily spins around with a light laugh and I slowly follow suit, schooling my face into an impassive mask.
Lucas stands there, impossibly tall and heartbreakingly handsome in a navy suit, his dirty-blond hair gleaming under the chandeliers, sky-blue eyes twinkling and a cheshire-cat grin promising mischief.
He brushes a kiss over Lily’s cheek, completely ignoring Damiano’s territorial growl, then turns to me.
He grabs my hand, and before I can protest, he twirls me on my axis.
“Wow, Chiara,” he says, his low voice brushing over my skin like velvet. “You look like every man’s dream.”
Heat floods my face and my heart thunders so loudly I am sure the whole room must hear it.
He pulls me close with the palm of his hand pressing against the small of my back and leans down to brush a kiss over my cheek.
Are his lips lingering longer than necessary, or am I just imagining it?
Am I the only one feeling the electrifying spark zapping to my toes every time we touch?
He lets go and flashes a grin to the people in the room, bantering lightly, joking, laughing, making the whole room sparkle brighter like he always does. And I stand there, watching my friend light up the room while I sip champagne, praying I won’t be sick.
“Chiara, you outshine every woman in this room,” comes a deep, low voice behind me and I swivel around to find Nathan Wellington looking at me with a warm smile.
“Nathan.” I laugh, refraining from rolling my eyes. “You must say that to every woman at these galas.”
He shakes his head with a fond smile and takes my hand to brush his lips over my knuckles. “Only to you, Chiara. Every time I see you, I think you can’t possibly be more beautiful. And you prove me wrong every time.”
Heat creeps up my cheeks and I avert my eyes, looking anywhere but at him.
“I should congratulate your father, he has set quite a standard this evening.” I try to divert the conversation.
His father, the mayor, is hosting today’s gala.
Nathan and I went to school together but lost touch over the years.
We reconnected not long ago when we started gravitating in the same circles.
“Wellington,” a voice drawls next to me and I almost let out a startled yelp.
Lucas. I thought he’d already left to flutter around like the social butterfly he is, but I was wrong. He extends his hand with a blinding smile and Nathan takes it with a polite nod.
“Good to see you,” Lucas goes on, his tone warm but there is a cold glint in his eyes. “How’s Daddy? Still making sure you’re invited to all the cool parties?”
Nathan stiffens, jaws tight. But Lucas doesn’t let go right away and I can sense the air between them charge with something primal, although I can’t fathom why. Nathan finally pulls his hand free, then he turns to me as if Lucas didn’t exist, and his face softens.
“Chiara, perhaps you’d allow me the honor of a dance?”
Before I can reply, Lucas steps closer and takes my hand. “She’s already promised me the next one.” And he unceremoniously drags me to the dance floor where we begin to sway.
I frown up at him. “Did you have to be so callous to Nathan?”
Lucas snorts, grinning unapologetically. “I saved you from that trust fund baby and this is how you thank me? Let me tell you what, you owe me another dance later.”
I swat him lightly on the chest, half-annoyed, half-laughing. “I’ll have you know that he is a famous athlete and owns a successful sports brand, he is hardly a trust fund baby.”
“Brand he created with whose money? Daddy’s, of course,” Lucas shoots back with contempt.
I roll my eyes. Why does he dislike Nathan so much? It’s not as if they knew each other that well, or that they were competing against each other. They are not even living in the same world. Nathan is a professional swimmer, and Lucas owns an investment company.
“Well then,” I reply lightly. “If you need to throw a stone at someone, I have a trust fund, too.”
“But you, sweetheart”— he winks down at me—“are my trust fund baby.”
“Ugh, you’re impossible.” I groan and he throws his head back, laughing loudly, not caring that he is attracting attention.
I shake my head but can’t refrain a chuckle from bubbling out. He is like that—sunny, unapologetic, and disarming. And blindingly handsome, a voice chimes in my head. I swallow as panic begins to crawl up my throat.
When the song ends, he releases me and I quickly flee to the bathroom. I am flustered from our dance, and jittery because I still haven’t found the courage to talk to him. I breathe through my nose a few times until my heartbeat slows to a normal speed.
Once I am more composed, I return to the ballroom, deciding to seek him out before my resolve falters. But as soon as I step through the doors, a tall body blocks my way.
Nathan.
I look up into his face as he steps closer. “I believe this dance is mine.” He grins and takes my hand before I can reply.
“This is a kidnapping.” I laugh.
“It is,” he concedes, with a chuckle. “But if abducting you is the only way to dance with you, so be it.”
“Nathan, you could’ve just asked.” I huff, amused.
He pulls me closer and we begin to dance. “Call me Nate,” he demands.
“Like when we were kids?” I smile. “I wouldn’t dare, we are grown-ups now and you are the mayor’s son.”
His face becomes thoughtful. “I’m still the same boy who followed you around like a lost puppy.”
“More like you followed my lunch,” I tease.
“Yeah, that too.” He grins. “You had the best peanut butter sandwiches your sister made, and you always slipped me half of yours.” We both chuckle at the fond memories.
But then his face grows serious again. “Chiara…”
I look up at him, intrigued. His face is solemn, his gaze intense, and I suddenly feel irrational dread making my heart beat faster.
“I know that in your circle I need to talk to your father first. But I want you to know that I will go and ask for his blessing to marry you.”
“Wh-what?” I stammer. My footing slips and I catch myself on his chest. This…this can’t be real. I am suddenly lightheaded.
“When we were kids, I had this huge crush on you for as long as I can remember, and the second I saw you again last year, I knew it wasn’t a mere crush.”
The champagne I had been drinking begins to creep up my throat and I start to suffocate.
“Nathan, I-I don’t know what to say,” I stutter. “It’s…so sudden,” I finish lamely.
“Say yes, say you’ll be my wife. I’ll run for Senate in a few years and you’ll be by my side, as my anchor, the mother of my children. Both our families are powerful. We make the perfect couple.”
I inhale sharply. I am going to be sick.
“Tell me what I should do, who I need to talk to, to make you mine.” He is gripping my forearms painfully, lips pressed into a stubborn line.
My mind blanks and I gape at him, eyes wide. Is he really proposing to me? Or rather, negotiating the pawn who will complement his public image?
“Is it your father?” he goes on, missing the shock on my face. “Or the head of your”—his voice drops to a whisper against my ear—“Mafia?”
I recoil and look up sharply at him. The famiglia is not a big secret for those with power in this city, but we still never talk about this with outsiders.
Nathan wrongly interprets my flinch for confirmation. “So, I’ll talk to Santaluccia, then.”
Oh god, no. I shake my head vehemently. That’s not how things work in the famiglia. As an outsider, he’ll put himself on too many radars.
“Nathan no, please don’t do this. You don’t know how dangerous it is.”
He pulls me closer, gaze intense. “I’ll do anything for you.”
“No,” I say more forcefully than necessary as I push his chest back. “No, Nathan, I don’t want to be your wife, and I don’t want you to talk to anyone. Now excuse me, I need a moment.”
I whirl around and almost run out of the room, mind spinning.
This night isn’t going as planned at all. Could it get any worse?
Apparently, it could.