Page 32 of Breathtaking

“Do I look like I’m my brother’s keeper?” he argues.

My frustrations mount, but years of social graces being drilled into me refuse to let me make the scene I wish I could. “You look like you’re enjoying this.”

He completely ignores me and grabs a rag from the back of his jeans and starts wiping down the bar until I slap my hand down on top of it, stopping him. “Listen, I’m asking nicely, and I’m using small words, so I’m fairly certain you can understand me.”

Lucky tries to pull away, but I grab his wrist and lean in conspiratorially against the bar, then motion for him before looking over my shoulder. “Do you see that woman behind me? The one in the blue suit?”

I follow Lucky’s eyes as they search for Maria. She’s not hard to find. She sticks out like a sore thumb in the bar full of low-key patrons here to enjoy lunch and drinks. My royal protection officer looks like she’s about to murder someone. Something I may be able to use to my advantage.

When he brings his eyes back to mine, unimpressed, I smile. “She knows 150 ways to kill a man and has diplomatic immunity.”

“Looks more like a glorified nanny to me,” he huffs.

She doesn’t.

He’s bluffing.

“Would you like to find out?” I push harder.

I really don’t want to call Maddox.

This is a conversation that needs to happen in person, even if it would be so much easier if I didn’t have to stand in front of him and tell him this.

“Lucky... please,” I ask as nicely as I can. “I’m not here to hurt him.”

Shockingly, little Beneventi softens for a split second before he grinds his teeth. “He’s probably at il leone.”

“Could you please tell me where that is?” I ask with a smile and have a pretty good idea of what il leone is.

He did it.

He talked about it for ages.

He’s opening his restaurant.

This beautiful man is putting all his plans in motion.

And at this rate, I won’t be here to see any of them.

How can I when I’ll be a continent away, raising his child?

Lucky looks over my shoulder again before grabbing a cocktail napkin and jotting something down. “Don’t fuck over my brother, princess. You might think your girl back there is a good shot, but my mom’s better.” He pushes the napkin my way but doesn’t lift his hand yet. “That being said, I may have underestimated you.”

I tug the paper away and tuck it in my purse. “You’re not the first person.”

LENNON

It’s okay to be scared.

Fear is natural, and hesitation is healthy.

But strength in the face of both is one of the great wonders of the world.

—Lennon’s Secret Thoughts

I’ve never considered myself a particularly strong woman. I wouldn’t say I was weak either. I just know my place in the world, which is basically to smile and look pretty. I’m a trophy to be had. Even in ballet, we’re used as tools to get benefactors to donate to the company. It’s archaic, but it is what it is. And I’ve played that part well for twenty-five years.

I’ve smiled.

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