Chapter 23 #2
I glance back at Sandro, but it’s Rocco who says, “One hundred thousand.”
A collective gasp rolls through the crowd.
“Wow,” the woman next to me stutters. “So generous.” She glances at me, her gaze raking over me like she’s trying to figure out why the bid just got ridiculous.
I’m trying to figure out why Rocco would be bidding on a date with me when Nance Vaughn yells, “Two hundred thousand.”
Holy shit.
Sweat breaks out beneath my hairline as my gaze ricochets back to Sandro and his brother.
Holding eye contact with me, Sandro leans into his brother and says something, then pushes off the wall.
Long, powerful strides bring him to Vaughn’s table in seconds.
His large hands grab Vaughn’s shoulders, and he whispers something in his ear.
Vaughn’s face pales, and he glances up at Sandro. Swallowing, he nods.
Sandro straightens and looks at me, his face a deadly mask.
“Three hundred thousand,” Rocco calls.
I swear I’m about to faint. Between the unwanted attention Sandro’s bringing to me and the anger that’s beginning to simmer, I’m overheating. Why is he inserting himself in my life again when I’m trying my hardest to forget about him?
It’s cruel.
And then a thought hits me. Is this his way of getting revenge? Revenge for me daring to walk away from him? Has he changed that much that he’d be capable of hurting me like this?
The woman looks over at Vaughn, and he quickly shakes his head in defeat.
“Three hundred thousand!” the woman says with a huge grin. “Thank you for your generosity.”
As the crowd applauds, Sandro holds my gaze, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.
***
Sloane is standing with me in the lobby, trying to talk me down. I’m pacing. I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now.
“How dare he,” I’m mumbling. There’s a streak of red-hot anger zipping through my body, obliterating my thoughts. But there’s also a warm heady glow in my brain. Sandro just spent three hundred thousand dollars to be with me for a few hours.
Holy shit.
Would he throw away that kind of money for revenge? Maybe it means he still cares a little? I mean, technically it was Rocco placing the bid, but that was probably because Sandro couldn’t be seen bidding on a date when he’s engaged. My face burns.
Engaged. Ugh.
I want to break something. This is so unfair.
Sloane grabs my shoulders and halts my pacing. “Let’s take a breath. You look like you’re about to blow.”
I bite my thumbnail, nodding like a psycho. “I am.”
And then he’s there. Striding out of the ballroom looking like a dark god in a tux with Rocco on his heels. He finds me, winks and then heads to the table to pay for his date. With me.
“Oh God, Oh God,” I whisper. “What am I supposed to do?” So many emotions are swirling within me, rising up, spiking my blood pressure until the next one replaces it. Anger. Fear. Hope. Humiliation. Then anger again. That seems to be the dominant one.
Sloane’s shoulders fall and her eyes soften as she scans my face. “What do you want to do?”
I glance over at Sandro. He keeps stealing glances back at me. I notice the worry tightening the edges of his eyes. Does he think I’m going to bolt? Then he can’t reel me back in and be the one to leave me this time? I sigh.
What do I want? I want to live in a world where it’s not impossible to be with him.
“Okay.” Sloane squeezes my shoulders. Her eyes are glittering with determination.
“Okay?” I move my gaze to her. I must’ve said that out loud.
“Yes. Obviously the man has it just as bad for you. Take this night and be with him. Pretend you do live in a world where that’s possible. Get your closure.”
“Oh.” I straighten my shoulders and take a deep breath.
“Closure. Right.” Maybe that’s why he’s doing this?
I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe it’s not revenge but closure he needs.
What we both need. One night to get each other out of our systems. To fix the way we said goodbye ten years ago.
Maybe then I can let go of the guilt and maybe he can forgive me.
Then we can move on with the lives we were meant to lead. Forced to lead.
Suddenly Sandro is standing before me. I look up into his eyes and see the storm of emotion dissolving his confidence, leaving him in a state of vulnerability. My heart softens.
Rocco is standing beside him, almost a carbon copy of his older brother. The same build, just an inch shorter; dark, wavy hair worn longer, a confident stance, and humor sparkling in his gray eyes. “Ready for our date, Lennon?”
Sandro’s head whips over to stare at his brother. And he growls. Actually growls.
Rocco throws his head back with a deep laugh, then smacks Sandro on the chest. “You’re too easy, brother.”
Sloane laughs beside me, which catches Rocco’s attention. He cocks his head. “And you are?”
“Sloane.” She offers her hand.
“Well, Sloane.” He presses a kiss to the back of her hand. A visible shiver goes through her body. “Seems I’m in need of a friend tonight since my brother forced me to use my auction bid for him. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Why not.” Sloane leans in to whisper in my ear. “God save me from Italian charm. Call me tomorrow and good luck.” She squeezes me in a hug. Then she shoots Sandro a warning glare, takes Rocco’s arm, and lets him lead her around the crowd and out the door.