Page 43 of Dario DeLuca

Under her unruffled guidance, the missing pieces start slotting into place. Replacement vendors are secured thanks to her connections. Given my restrictions, I handle the final count of social media influencers stoked about attending and design the content for Dario’s team to post. Local dignitaries RSVP'd with enthusiastic interest in the programs we're unveiling to help the underserved community.

“Thank you,” Evelyn says, her eyes wide with excitement. Ending her call, she approaches. “So, I just got off the phone with channel WBMB, and they will have a crew there for the entire event, opening, of course, and run a feature story ahead of the opening. Not only will this put eyes on what you and your father’s foundation have accomplished, but since this is also inDario’s district, this will give him a positive boost in the court of public opinion. So it’s a win-win, in my book.”

With each fire Evelyn extinguishes, tension uncoils from my shoulders. I can breathe again,finally. Now, I can focus on the bigger picture—crafting my remarks to rally this community, convincing them this center is a game-changer with only four hours until showtime.

Evelyn and I hunker down, syncing every last detail. I'm struck by how perfectly she manages to weave my words into a poetic song.

"You've worked miracles, Evelyn. I couldn't have pulled this off without you." My candor surprises even me. I'm not usually so quick to rely on others.

She waves a modest hand. "Please, you laid all the groundwork. I just cleared a few hurdles." Her bright red lips quirk. "I’m sure your fiancé would've razed the city if I hadn't intervened."

We share a laugh at the truth of her statement.

“You know, I watch how he is with you, and it’s so different from the boss side of him. He seems to really care for you.”

I fake a smile, caught off guard by her yet again.

“Yeah, well,” I say, holding up my engagement ring. “We are getting married.”

Evelyn sees this as some golden retriever kind of love, where Dario lights up and will do anything to make me happy. In reality, Dario’s power knows no bounds, and he doesn’t mind showing just how much of it he has.

"Well, it's almost time," she declares, standing.

A frisson of nerves rakes through me, but it's the good kind—the thrill before the big show. There’s also just an inkling of nerves around what she just implied.

Has Dario started to care for me?

Adrenaline fuels my steps as I walk Evelyn to the door, filled with renewed determination.

Tonight, everything changes. I can feel it in my bones.

As the grand opening looms,Evelyn’s offhand fiancé comment ricochets through my brain, I mentally kick myself.

The truth is, Dario and I aren't even dating. Not really. Our…relationship…defies easy categorization. Born of violence and desperation, ignited through sparks of hatred and derision. A union intended as a cold calculation, to merge our families' interests. And yet...

My gaze drifts to Dario as he broods nearby, scrutinizing the setup crew. Even his most innocuous movements entrance me—the ripple of muscle beneath his tight black tee, the reckless jut of his bearded jaw, those glowering eyes missing nothing.

A pang squeezes my chest. My body has betrayed me, traitorous flesh craving his touch with shameless abandon. I'm a mess of confused lust and ever-shifting allegiances.

Get it together. This is no time for indulging those forbidden fantasies, not with so much riding on tonight's success.

My pep talk recalls me to the moment. I force my attention back to the grand foyer, filling with guests. Giddy anticipation thrums beneath the hubbub.

Young, bright-eyed community organizers in smart pantsuits network with city hall zoning board members and varsity coaches from our outreach programs. Social media influencers practice staging the perfect selfie backdrop, laughter, and flashbulbs popping.

A bubble of pride swells within me. This is bigger than me, Dario’s political ambitions, or family machinations. It’sabout giving these overlooked neighborhoods something to rally around—a long-overdue investment in their future.

As showtime nears, the door bursts open, and Gabby sweeps in."Oh my God, you two clean up nicely!" she laments, seeing Dario and me standing beside each other. She rushes to embrace me, her curls tickling my cheek. "I'm so proud of you, babe. This place looks incredible."

Sinking into her warmth, I savor the familiar comfort of her friendship. My safe harbor in the madness. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Gabby squeezes me tighter. "Don't be silly. This was all you, every brilliant, hard-won detail." She pulls back with a sly grin. "Though I do have to admit, I'm digging Mobster Barbie's fashion sense."

I roll my eyes but can't stifle my smirk. The bodice hugs my curves, dipping just low enough to tease. Dario had picked it, naturally—the lavender a perfect offset to his grey three-piece suit.

I smooth the skirt over my hips, unable to shake the memory of my bikini pushed aside as he pounded into me against the bookcase. His rough groans, the bruising grip digging into my ass.

A jolt of arousal lances straight to my core, and I suck in a sharp breath, dizzy from the potent recollection.

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