Page 24 of Savage Claim

Amalia gestured at the collection of dresses. “She can’t pick one.”

Lorenzo looked at each dress with a critical eye before he pointed to one that was a deep red that would look lovely with my coloring. It wasn’t a stiff material, but it was tight enough that my bump wouldn’t be hidden. Even worse, there was a sheer section of the bodice that wouldn’t do a thing to hide the worst of my scars. I had nixed that one first.

He held it out to me. “Wear this.”

“Lorenzo, I can’t.”

By the look on his face, Lorenzo knew why I didn’t want to wear it, and that was precisely why he was telling me to. I knew he wasn’t being purposefully cruel, but I couldn’t just own my imperfections without a care. “You’ll look beautiful,” he said with a wink and gave the dress to Amalia. “See that she puts it on.”

“Sure thing, Enzo.”

He handed the ring box that he had pulled out the night that he’d proposed at the Palazzo. “Don’t forget to wear this.” I took it with a sigh. We were going to lie about being engaged—he was certain that was the best choice to get through the night—but I didn’t think it was a good idea. “Dolcezza.”

“I heard you.”

He stared at me for a moment, and then he was gone again to make certain that everything was exactly right for tonight. Amalia pressed the hanger into my hands. I gripped the fabric and tried to ignore that gut-wrenching reminder that as much as Amalia was my friend, she wasalwaysgoing to defer to Lorenzo.

Maybe that was what he meant by saying that we weren’t equals. Because no matter the relationships I built in his world, Lorenzo had hegemony. He was always going to have deference over everyone around him, including me.

Just like Lorenzo had asked her, Amalia stayed and made sure that I put on the dress he picked. She offered to help with my hair and makeup, but I didn’t want to run the risk of her applying something heavier than I was used to.

Once I was dressed, she hustled off to get into her own outfit for the evening, and I went in search of Lorenzo.

Two hours later, the dining room was full of people laughing and catching up. It was the first time I had ever seen every seat at the table occupied. Sitting to the right of the head of the table, across from Damian, I felt like an injured gazelle in a room full of hungry lions. No one had said anything to me, but I could feel the stares.

Finally, Lorenzo reached for his wine glass. “Can I get everyone’s attention?” His voice boomed over the crowd, and everyone fell silent and turned their eyes to him. Heat sizzled through my belly, and I tried my best to keep my face pleasantly neutral.

I shouldnotfind it hot how easily he could command a room full of people.

“I wanted to thank you for allowing me to join in this year’s meeting,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Before we have dinner, I would like to share some personal news.” He held his hand out to me, and shaking, I took it and stood. Lorenzo looped his arm around my waist. “I would like to introduce you to Isabella Rossi, my fiancée.”

The room was silent for a split-second before it erupted in noise. “Don Vitali,” a man who looked twice Lorenzo’s age stood up. “You have to know that this,” he said, and his eyes dragged to me, “choice of yours would be a difficult one for the families who have been?—”

“Hoping to whore out their daughters to me?” Lorenzo filled in in an almost lazy voice.

There were more protests, and all I wanted was to crawl under the table. I wanted to say something, beg him to be more tactful or admit that he was lying, but I kept all those thoughts to myself. Lorenzo had warned me before people started arriving that I should mostly observe the goings-on today. I didn’t know enough about anything to comment on it.

“You didn’t allowourdaughters a chance,” another man piped in, but I noticed that he didn’t stand up like the other man. He was content to hide away and make his snide comments, and I couldn’t help but lean into Lorenzo’s side a little more. Lorenzo didn’t look at me, but his arm squeezed around me just a tad harder.

“That’s right,” someone else said. It sounded like a woman. “You picked up sometrashyoutsider.”

“Enough,” Lorenzo ground out. His whole aura, calm to the point of laziness before, was snappy with anger now. “For years, I have put up with visits from your daughters and your frustrations that I wouldn’t move on from Sienna. Now, I have, and that’s the end of the discussion.”

The whole room seemed to jerk at the sound of Sienna’s name. That was surprising: I knew that Lorenzo had a gag order on the house as a whole, but for that to extend toallof the Cosa Nostra. Did her family never talk about her?

That was something I would ask Amalia later.

“Lorenzo.” The voice that rose about the din was softer than before, but the expression on his face was somewhere between rage and sorrow. “Tell me this is a joke.”

Lorenzo’s expression changed. He almost looked…apologetic. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Salvatore.”

“I’m still the eldest of the Bianchi family, even if my younger brother has stepped up as our Don.”Oh,shit. He must be Sienna’s father. I knew that she and Amalia were cousins, but I had never questioned who was heading the family. Salvatore Bianchi was a weather-worn man: he probably had been handsome when he was a young man, but grief had pounded his face into something thin and haggard. My heart ached just looking at him.

Lorenzo nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I was hoping to have this conversation more quietly.”

Salvatore’s eyes landed on me, and the coldness in his gaze had me suddenly short of breath. I knew that this man hated me, without a doubt, and I wasn’t sure that I blamed him. I must seem like a mockery to him. “You’re marrying this copy of my daughter, and you insult all of us here by pretending that this isn’t some cruel trick.” His eyes dragged down to my belly, and he sneered. “I suppose having an heir that looks like Sienna was enough for you, wasn’t it? Thissgualdrinacan give you what my daughter wasn’t given the time to.”

Lorenzo stared at him for a split-second before calmly reaching into his jacket. I only saw a flash of black metal in the candlelight before a deafeningboomseemed to explode from his hand. The man next to Salvatore screamed as his shoulder erupted in red. My mind shrieked at me to look away. Or get up and help. But I remained fastened to my seat.

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