Chapter 3 Sora #2
When I finally lift my eyes again, I find Leonardo watching me, that molten gaze burning into my soul, curiosity and suspicion present in equal measure.
“You paint a comical picture,” I explain, heat pooling in my cheeks, and again, I’m grateful for the makeup my mother insists we wear for public occasions.
“At least one of us can laugh about it,” he says, guiding me to our next set of guests—none other than the governor of Chicago and his wife.
The range of people who made the guestlist to our engagement party stretches from the city’s upper crust who occupy the penthouses of the Golden Mile to the heads of the Irish and Russian Mafias, along with the more prominent members who pay tribute to either Leonardo’s family or mine.
Each person lavishes us with praise, complimenting us on what a beautiful couple we will make and how our union will make one hell of an alliance.
But I can see the truth behind their flattery, hear the whispers once we walk away—comments about the “poor girl” who couldn’t possibly tame such a notorious playboy like Leonardo Chiaroscuro.
In their eyes, he’s no doubt already been unfaithful to me, and they pity me for it.
They’re probably right, which makes this celebration only more humiliating.
Especially when I can’t shake the confounding sense of jealousy that twists inside me every time a woman flutters her lashes at my husband-to-be or touches his arm affectionately.
Leonardo seems oblivious to it all, his charm and charisma drawing smiles from even the most stoic guests.
And he plays the part of the adoring fiancé with shocking finesse, going so far as to insist that I call him Leo—even if we’re not yet married—while we’re talking to Mayor Henacey and a handful of socialites.
I play along, knowing it’s my job to look like a smitten young bride who’s eager to be with such a man.
I laugh lightly at the underhanded comments about how shocking some people find it that we could be getting married when our families have a reputation for feuding as terribly as the Montagues and Capulets.
I ignore the sidelong looks and whispered judgments that Leo will chew me up and spit me out as soon as I give him an heir.
And I subtly lay claim to my intended whenever women try to horn in on my man.
I barely have time or energy to register the miles of garden pathways we walk along as he parades me in front of our guests.
And when we finally find a moment of peace in a more secluded area, I feel as though I’m seconds from suffocating.
The tall hedge is enough to limit the number of guests in sight, and while my family has been following at a respectful distance, this is as close to alone as Leo and I have been all day.
“Shall we take a breather?” he suggests as if reading my mind, gesturing to the beautiful three-tiered fountain occupying the center of the space.
“That sounds nice,” I agree, pausing and turning to admire the rushing water that drowns out the sound of people’s distant conversations.
Taking my now-empty lemonade glass from my hand, Leo stacks it with his and sets it on the edge of the fountain, then turns his attention fully to me for the first time since I arrived.
“Well, Miss Tanaka, now that you’ve had more time to think about my proposal, have you reconsidered your position?” Leo’s tone is light, his brown eyes intense as he peers down at me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
So much for a breather. He’s jumping right into business, and I know he’s not going to like what I have to say.
“I’ve considered it,” I say sweetly, looking up at him through my lashes.
“And?” he presses, taking half a step closer. “Are you ready to back out of our engagement?”
He lifts a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from my cheek, his fingers following the curve of my ear as he gently tucks the lock away.
The touch is so soft it borders on intimate, and despite my conviction to not let him get under my skin, it makes my breath catch.
Heat infuses my cheeks, and I glance toward my family, who have stopped alongside Leo’s father near the entrance to the hedges to keep a subtle eye on us.
I’ve already gotten a lecture from my father about what kind of physical contact I am allowed with my “uncivilized groom” and what I’m not until my wedding day, and this most definitely walks the line of unacceptable.
But following through with this alliance is more important to my family than whether I let Leo to touch me. All I know is that his fingers set my skin on fire, and suddenly, I can’t quite think straight.
“No,” I breathe, trying not to sound as flustered as I feel. “I fully intend to meet you at the altar.”
A flash of warning ignites in Leo’s eyes, and I gasp audibly as he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close as he cups my cheek with his free hand.
I can feel every rock-hard inch of him pressed against me, the chiseled muscles of his chest and abdomen, his straining bicep holding me with iron strength, and though I bring my palms up, arching back so he can’t steal a kiss, I’m in very real danger of wanting one.
“Leo,” I whisper, panic lacing my tone as I glance around once more.
The look on my father’s face says he is clearly displeased with how Leo’s touching me. But with a scowl, he deliberately looks away, and my heart starts to race at the silent but clear communication.
He’s not going to help me.
I need to extricate myself from this situation, and I need to do it without making a scene.
Unfortunately, it takes no time at all to realize I won’t be physically forcing distance between me and Leo.
He’s entirely too strong. And before I can insist that he let go of me, he’s talking.
“I warned you that you would regret it. Call it off before it’s too late, Princess,” he purrs, leaning closer until the scents of cypress and lemon make my pulse flutter.
Covering my whimper with a scoff, I do my best to lift my chin into an imperious expression. “Or what? You’ll kiss me?” I taunt, but I’m too breathless to make it sound like a challenge.
“I’ll ruin you,” Leo breathes, sending a shiver rippling down my spine.
Dragging in a sharp breath, I steel my nerves and glare right back into his dark eyes.
“You don’t know me at all if you think you can intimidate me into backing out.
I’m loyal to my family, and I will follow through with the agreement my father made if it will bring peace. Even if I have to marry you.”
“Don’t make me laugh. I know the Tanaka-kai well enough to realize they won’t be any more tolerable after the wedding. The peace won’t last, and if you think you can make a difference, then you’re even more naive than I thought.”
He leans in closer, his lips mere inches from mine, and his proximity makes it nearly impossible to form a coherent argument. Maybe he’s right. Maybe this alliance was doomed to fail from the start. But I won’t be the reason it falls apart.
“Your father agreed to this union,” I point out. “So, now who’s living in a fantasy? You know as well as I do that this wedding is going to happen whether we want it to or not.”
We’re well beyond the gray now in our public display, and I’m sure my father will be furious with me for allowing it to go this far—even if I can’t stop it.
My heart hammers as Leo leans over me, his body curving around mine until my weight is braced against his powerful arm, my palms uselessly trapped against his chest.
Attraction races through my veins like lightning, and the feeling is so completely unexpected, I don’t know how to fight it.
“You'd better hope it doesn’t, Cattiva,” he murmurs, dipping me farther back.
His eyes dip to my lips, his grin wicked, and for a split second, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me.
Then, without warning, he lets go, and I gasp at the sudden sense of weightlessness before frigid water swallows me whole.