Page 107 of A Love Most Fatal

“Nathaniel,” I remind him. “We met at the Mayor’s gala.”

“The teacher?” he says, and I nod. In this world, that is all I will ever be. Nothing more than a blip in their memories. The realization hurts more than it should.

“I hear my congratulations are in order regarding your building. A hotel?” I say.

“Mm.” McGowan raises his overgrown white eyebrows. “Yes, I’m looking forward to having a bit more space to . . . grow.”

I offer my most knowing look, the Boy’s Club one I practiced in all those interviews.

“I’m certain it will be the best quality, as they always are. Everything the Morellis touch turns to gold, after all.”

“I would hope so.” McGowan drains the rest of the glass and hands it back to me. “For $600 million, it better turn to diamonds.”

I stare at the man, about to correct him when he catches the eye of someone he knows and excuses himself. Surely he misspoke. No way would that man pay over $430 million after the fight he put up—but600?

I looked over the contract early last week and we all gawked at the big number together, it most certainly wasn’tthatbig of a number.

There’s a tapping against glass, ringing out like a bell drawing everyone’s attention to Claire standing on the deck.

“Thank you all for being here,” she says with a wide smile on her face. “I am sure you’re all anxious to hear what’s brought us all together this evening.”

Everyone murmurs, some laughing and nodding.

“But first, food. Please, serve yourself, and enjoy.” She motions to the large buffet set up on the lawn and light applause comes from the family. Everyone is buzzing, out of their minds about why Vanessa Morelli would host a multicultural celebration in her home on a random Friday evening.

“I hear wedding bells,” someone says as they walk past me, and the barely formed scab on my heart is scratched anew. I don’t know that this one will ever heal over. When she announces their engagement will they kiss?

God.

I grab another glass from a table and take a long sip, wincing at the carbonation. This may just be the longest night of my life.

39

VANESSA

I allowmyself one last quiet moment alone, fingers and palms stretched at my sides as I force myself to meet my own gaze in the mirror. My eyes aren’t bright, though Willa worked magic beneath them to make the dark circles practically invisible. She also put sparkles on my eyelids because she said it would look cute. Cute it is, though the blood-red lip and the dress are anything but.

I remind myself of why I’m doing this, saying every one of their names in my head three times before exhaling one final breath and leaving the bathroom. It’s almost time for our announcement, and I should be seen mingling before the time comes.

I’m making my way down the hall when a palm snakes out of my office door, pulling me in. I’m ready to fight off whoever dragged me into the dark room, but it’s just Cillian, a devilish little smirk on his face.

“You’re looking mighty nice,” he says, and I flip him off. He laughs, ever amused. “What’s the occasion for all this?”

The question surprises me. I suppose all conversations with him for the last week were about the McGowan deal or the mad goose chase. “Sean didn’t tell you?”

His smile appears suspended as he squints. “What.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I hold up my left hand, back side facing him. There’s no ring yet on my finger, but I waggle it anyway.

“The teacher?” he asks.

“Maxim Orlov.”

His face crosses from confused to concerned in seconds. “The Russian?”

“He’s a good match,” I say with a shrug.

“Good match for who? He’s Russian.”

---