Page 5 of Dario DeLuca

“It certainly was for it to be last minute.” I sip my beverage, then turn to my mother. “Mom, do you know anything about this DeLuca guy? Aside from the construction jobs he’s done for the city and the foundation, this seems a little out of the ordinary.”

“Honey, from what I know and from what your father’s told me, he’s been thinking about this for a while and decided to take the leap when the seat was vacated abruptly. I wouldn’t think more than that.” She pats my hand in a soft, nurturing manner. “Now, excuse me, dear. I see a few people I need to speak with about the community center fundraiser.”

“Okay, Mom.” I accept her response and put the subject out of my mind.

She kisses me on the cheek like she has since I was a little girl. It doesn’t matter that I’m now twenty-six. I’ll always be her angel.

She walks away just as Gabrielle touches my arm, grounding me back to the present.

“It’s time for me to head out,” Gabrielle announces.

“Yeah, I think I’ll go too,” I respond, though a part of me yearns to stay and comb through the web of secrecy that is DarioDeLuca. “I’m doing a live from the studio tomorrow, so I need to sleep.”

I search the room, spotting him, his guests, and my dad standing away from the crowd, engaged in a heavy conversation. Even from here, the man is alluring. His aura, a magnetic field, pulls at my senses, demanding recognition.

“Let me just say goodnight to my dad and his candidate.”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you at the valet stand.” Gabrielle starts toward the hall’s entrance, and I stroll toward the gentlemen in deep discussion.

As I approach, I notice the hushed exchange of my father passing Dario an envelope. That is until Dario’s sharp glance cuts through the space and finds me.

“Not here,” Dario shushes when he sees me, and the envelope disappears as if it never existed.

“Oh, Mia!” My father’s voice is buoyant, a practiced joy. “We were just discussing… city affairs.”

“Of course you were,” I reply. “But why can’t you discuss it here, Mr. DeLuca?” I stare at him, and a shiver edges down my spine.

“Because it’s a night of getting to know the city; work can be discussed later,” he smirks.

“This is true. After all, it is your coming out party of sorts,” I quip.

His friend chuckles and clears his throat when Dario delivers a stern glare.

“That reminds me, I do need to talk to you tomorrow,” my father interjects, his tone laced with a gravity that doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Tomorrow,” I echo, curiosity knotting within me like a second heartbeat. “After I’m done with my live, I will be all yours.”

“Very well. Baby girl.”

“I guess now that I’ve received my orders from my father, I’ll be going now. Mr. DeLuca...” I tilt my head. “Pleasure meeting you.”

Dario steps forward, the air around us charged, the very atoms seeming to pause. His hand captures mine. The brush of his lips against my skin feels forbidden—a spark threatening to ignite.

He leans in, close enough for me to catch the faintest scent of cedarwood emanating from him.

“Looking forward to more… enlightening conversations,” he says, the timbre of his voice a velvet caress against the chill of the evening.

“Enlightenment comes at a cost,” I manage, my breath a traitor to the calm I feign.

“Everything has its price, Mia,” he states before kissing my knuckles.

“Goodnight, Mr. DeLuca,” I say as he walks away, melting into the crowd.

“Goodnight… for now,” he responds without turning back.

I pause, my heart skipping a beat. I stand there, a statue amidst the ebb and flow of farewells, the taste of his promise lingering, bittersweet, and enticing. The night air beckons me outside, but my thoughts remain captive, tangled in the web of what lies unsaid, undone, and unmistakably dangerous.

THREE

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