Page 56 of His Son's Ex

Across the table, Luca and Sarah eye me with varying degrees of discomfort. Linda seats herself beside Sarah, smoothing her dress and shooting me tight smiles whenever our gazes cross.

Within minutes, the staff appears with an array of appetizers—prosciutto-wrapped figs, tomato bruschetta, marinated olives. The conversation starts with polite small talk about the weather, the city’s upcoming social events, and a new charity gala. I do my best to keep up, though I can feel Linda’s eyes flicking my way every so often.

“You look lovely tonight, Eva,” Sarah says at one point, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “That color is so flattering on you. It really balances out… everything.”She gives me a smirk, her implication clear.

I grip my fork a little tighter, willing my pulse to stay steady as irritation quickly rises up.

Isabella watches the exchange in silence. It’s almost as if she’s testing me, waiting to see how I handle the unspoken insults.

I meet Sarah’s smug gaze head-on and smile sweetly. “Thank you. Some of us have assets worth accentuating while others rely on their last name and hope no one notices their lack of substance.”

I glance at Luca, his smirk tightening, his jaw twitching ever so slightly. Sarah coughs into her hand, while Linda’s eyes narrow in displeasure.

Luca opens his mouth to speak but Dante shuts it down.

“Say something, Luca,” Dante goads him, the tone of his voice carrying a lethal edge. “See how well that works out for you.”

Luca wisely shuts his mouth, his fingers tightening around his knife. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Isabella reach for her wine, taking a slow sip as a faint, knowing smile curves her lips.

She interjects, poised and proper, as she says, “Honestly, a woman’s figure is her virtue. In our family, child-bearing hips are prized, are they not?” Her eyes look to Sarah, and Sarah’s cheeks redden, her hand moving self-consciously to her slender waist.

“Indeed,” Dante adds, reaching over to squeeze my hand under the table. The warmth of his touch calms me. “I find Eva perfect just the way she is.”

My cheeks warm and my heart squeezes with gratitude. Despite the tension, I feel an odd sense of belonging as Dante defends me.

Linda, however, decides to stir the pot. She flips her hair, letting out a dismissive, fake laugh. “Oh, that’s all well and good, Isabella, but in this day and age, we all know beauty is about more than childbearing capacities. One must keep up appearances. Everything sags eventually if you’re not careful. And the more you have, the more there is to sag.”

She casts a pointed glance at me, her bright smile full of condescension. My spine stiffens, but before I can respond,Isabella’s voice slices through the air like a steel blade wrapped in velvet.

“Not everyone is desperately spending what little they have trying to outpace Father Time, Linda.” The subtext is clear. Linda withdraws, lips pressing into a thin line.

I watch, fascinated, as Isabella and Linda lock eyes in a silent duel. I gather Linda expected to waltz in here and overshadow everyone, but Isabella is clearly the reigning queen in this domain, and Linda’s show of bravado is falling flat.

Seizing the lull, a staff member begins serving the next course—fresh pasta in a light sauce, the aroma rich and mouthwatering. Silverware clinks softly as everyone settles into an awkward silence, enjoying the delicious pasta.

Luca clears his throat, attempting small talk. “I heard that new rooftop lounge in Midtown is impossible to get into.”

“Oh, please,” Linda interjects smoothly, waving a manicured hand. “That place is already passé. If you want exclusivity, go to The Solace Club.”

Luca’s mouth shuts with a near audible click. Sarah, either enjoying his discomfort or trying to impress her new mother-in-law, jumps in. “Exactly. The crowd at those places matters more than the location itself.”

I sip my wine, amused despite myself. So much for Luca trying to be relevant.

Eventually, attention turns to me. “And what is it you do again, Eva?” Linda asks, eyes gleaming with barely concealed judgment. “Something in computers?”

“Yes,” I answer smoothly, setting my glass down. “Cybersecurity.”

Sarah’s brows lift. “Oh, how modern. You must be very busy, then.”

“I am,” I reply, my expression neutral. “I handle a lot of high-priority cases.”

Linda hums, tilting her head. “Cybersecurity. That’s such a broad term these days, isn’t it? So much behind-the-scenes work. Must be exhausting, all that sitting in front of a screen.”

I know what she’s doing. It’s a sideways jab, a backhanded way of implying I don’t have the kind of lifestyle that would keep me “refined” like she so obviously considers herself.

“Oh, it’s more active than you think,” I say, smiling sweetly. “A good defense is an aggressive one, after all. You’d be surprised how much control I have over the situation from behind a screen.”

Dante chuckles, the sound low and appreciative. “She’s being modest,” he says, draping an arm across the back of my chair. “Eva runs circles around the best in the industry. I’d trust her to keep my empire secure before I’d trust the FBI.”

---