Page 67 of Savage Enemy

Benedetta grabbed me. “Stop… look who she’s with.”

I halted.

The young thug still stood close to my girl.

No doubt he was armed.

Of course he would be the Moscatelli assigned to escort her. Enforcers guarded the goods. He’d certainly been tasked with making sure she didn’t leave or say the wrong thing, and equally as important, with preventing undesirable advances toward her.

“I’m not going to just stand here all night,” I said.

I had to get a message to her. It had to come from me.

“Please, Stefano, wait. You have to pretend you’re enjoying the party. Remember, you’re here to conduct a business transaction. It’s the only reason you can be here. I’ll get you closer to her but let me do it the right way.”

I turned to her and stared daggers through her.

“You promised me you would?—”

“I promised to get you in the room with her. You’re in the room. I’ve met my obligation, but I’m willing to keep going if you can be patient. If they find out you’re here for any other reason before we have Marco on our side, well, I don’t think it will end well for either of you. Or me.”

I gave her a curt nod despite my nerves burning with impatience. I had no other option but to trust her. For now.

So, if milling around the ballroom is what she needed to do, to make small talk and gather gossip about Val’s assumed future while looking for Marco Moscatelli, then so be it. For fucking now.

She grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing tray and handed me one, smiling as if we were a happy couple about to announce our engagement.

Fuck. I had to play into the room’s assumption if I wanted to get to Val, even if it hurt Val when she discovered us.

As we listened, I realized my girl had been having a little fun spreading some tall tales of her own. Everything from a decade’s worth of plastic surgery in Paris—as if anyone but God could craft that kind of beauty—to having been held captive by trolls, to spending years in a drug recovery facility.

I couldn’t help but grin.

She’d found a way to survive with her sanity intact.

She knew I would come.

Finally, we ran into an old gossip with some information. An older woman with gray hair styled so tight on top of her head that it pulled back the skin on her face, making it look like she’d been the one surgically altered.

The woman hugged Benedetta.

“It’s so lovely to see you again, dear. To answer your question, well, I can’t speak to what that girl got up to, but I know the Russians aren’t happy about it.

“Why it’s such a problem for them is quite odd if you ask me. The man she would’ve married has a wife. In fact, he’s had threebrides over the last decade. And despite all that, seems the Russians won’t drop their claim.”

“Will they be here tonight?” Benedetta asked.

“I hear they’ve sent an emissary, so he can get a lookat her. If it were my husband, the deal would be entirely void. And as for that brash little girl, she could die unmarried, and I wouldn’t shed a tear.” The woman sniffed. “Once her beauty fades, she won’t be desirable anymore.”

I set my jaw to keep from strangling the old fucking bitch.

“Will there be a deal with the Russians or not?” I asked.

She stared at me for a minute.

“A few of the families tried to convince Don Moscatelli not to work with the Russians. But a woman like that, after all that’s happened? She doesn’t have many prospects now, does she? Shame, really. Such a beautiful young woman unmarried because no one wanted the baggage that comes with her.”

Her critical tone scraped at my patience—she was talking about my son, referring to him as baggage.

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