Page 60 of Seduced By the Mafia Don

It’s his posture, the tilt of his head. It’s his… aura.

“Yes,” I say, but a moment later, a glamorous woman walks up beside him. She’s tall, angelic, and wears her dress like it was made for her, jewelry that should count its blessings to adorn someone so beautiful.

“I’m fine,” I mutter a moment later, when I feel Gianna staring at me.

“We should say hello,” she replies, then moves close to me. “Try not to make it too obvious that you and Nico are in a relationship.”

“He’s hiding me,” I mutter.

“No,” Gianna says swiftly. “He wanted to tell the truth, but I persuaded him it wouldn’t be in his, or the Family’s, best interest. I’m sorry for asking you to play along with the charade.”

“I get it,” I say, hoping I’m telling the truth.

We walk across the room, joining the happy couple. Anya has dark black hair, with small crystals interwoven into her artfully placed braids. She looks like someone born into and accustomed to wealth.

“Anya, you know my mother,” Nico says.

“Hello, Gianna. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Even the way Gianna and Anya shake hands makes me feel poor.

“This is Sienna,” Gianna says, introducing me. “An absolutely talented artist who is working on a series of pieces for me. You’ll be seeing her work very, very soon.”

“Charmed,” Anya says, offering me her hand.

“Hey.”

When she shakes my hand, I feel how clammy it is. Her eyes shine like she’s drunk, or on her way toward getting drunk. I’m not going to judge her. If I wasn’t afraid of what I’d say, I might get drunk too.

“Are you enjoying your evening so far?” I ask, finding the silence awkward.

“How could I not?” Anya puts her hand on Nico’s arm.

Nico pulls away – it’s rude, but I’m glad – but that doesn’t change the look on Anya’s face. She gazes at him adoringly. She looks deeply in love.

I’m shocked at how jealous this is making me. It hasn’t been long enough for me to feel this way. It was just under a week ago that I was telling him we were only going to have one night together.

But the truth? I’m absurdly jealous.

“Will you please excuse me?” I say. “I’m going to use the ladies’ room.”

“Would you like some company?” Gianna asks.

“No, thank you.”

I quickly step away. I feel like I want to scream. I need to calm down.

I’m glad I’ve got the bathroom to myself. I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. She’s far more glamorous than I’ve got any right to be.

I stand up straighter, try to own the outfit. The gown hugs every curve I usually keep covered. Deep green, off the shoulder, tight at the waist. It’s beautiful. Expensive. I feel like I’ve borrowed someone else’s life. I tug at the neckline, shift my weight. Too much skin. Too much me. The mirror says I look like I belong, but I’m not so sure.

I turn when the door crashes open.

It’s… Adrian, the guy I first saw at the restaurant and then later at Gianna’s house, his hair shines slickly in the light. He rushes across the room, a manic look in his eyes.

“Don’t make a sound,” he growls. “I don’t have any weapons, but if I have to, I’ll hurt you. I’ll fucking hurt you. Get it?”

I’m too stunned to move or react. He grabs my arm and squeezes it hard enough to snap me out of the paralysis. He’s strong. I’m alone, with nowhere to run. Terror grips me as I stare at him.

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