Page 62 of Seduced By the Mafia Don

“You shouldn’t leave Anya waiting too long. She’s been looking forward to this evening.”

I grind my teeth. There’s a chance that Viktorwasn’tinvolved with the hit attempt. In that case, it’s in my best interest to play along with the charade. Part of the deal was giving Anya the best night of her life, and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do that when it clearly means causing Sienna, the woman I actually care about, pain.

After getting Mother a glass of champagne – my excuse for going to the bar – I walk across the ballroom, looking for Sienna. I lean into my mother. “Find Sienna. She’s disappeared.”

Mother takes her glass of champagne and leaves me and Anya alone. Anya smiles shakily at me. “Anyone would think you’re trying to avoid me.”

“Not at all,” I say politely.

“Do you like my dress?”

“Uh, yes.” Even saying this feels like a betrayal. “Are you… having a good evening?”

“Why won’t you look at me, Nico?”

I turn to her. “I will.”

She rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t have to ask.”

“I’m…”

“Sorry? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

Yeah, I’m sorry that she’s so desperate for attention her father had to make a deal for it. I want to tell her she can do better than wait around for scraps of attention from me, but that would mean risking the deal.

“I’m going to get another drink,” she says. “By the way,youcould’ve offered to get me one when you saw I was almost out.”

She walks away with a toss of her head. From across the room, Viktor glares at me.

Mother returns with Sienna by her side. There’s something different about Sienna. She looks skittish, which is unusual for her. Even in the Cattle and Vine, when the Russians were trying to bully her, she seemed tough.

“Is everything okay?” I ask quietly.

She replies, but she doesn’t look at me. She glares into space as though thinking about something else. “I’m great.”

“Are you sure?”

“I just said that, didn’t I?”

Mother looks at me questioningly. I shake my head. She’s probably angry at seeing me with Anya. I can’t blame her. If the positions were reversed, I’d want to tear this entire hotel down.

* * *

I hate parties, especially mob parties, when things spiral into drunkenness. Mother and Sienna sit in the corner, talking, observing. I spend some time with my men and a collection of Russians, pretending to be someone I’m not, just getting through it.

When someone touches my arm, I spin, my instincts ready for a fight. Anya laughs awkwardly. In the thirty minutes since she left for the bar, she’s clearly consumed a lot of alcohol. She seems shaky on her feet.

“You need to listen,” she says, slurring her words.

She almost stumbles. I’ve got no choice but to take her arm, steady her. Sienna is probably watching. When Anya seems like she’s able to stand upright, I remove my hand.

“Listen to what?”

“Tocommon sense,” she snaps. Suddenly, she seems like a different woman. Still drunk, yes, but not the ditsy society girl I’ve always known her as. She seems… sharper, more aware. “I’ve tried doing it the nice way: the reasonable way.”

Her words are slurred, but she speaks with more conviction than I’ve ever heard from her before.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her.

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