Page 137 of Unholy Union
I’m standing in the hall outside the dining room, loosening the top button of my shirt, when Sabrina starts toward me.
She slips her arms around my neck, pressing her body into mine. “Tonight was perfect. I loved having everyone here. We should do it more often.”
I let my hands settle on her hips. “I agree. You make it look easy.”
“Flattery… but accepted.” She draws back enough to meet my eyes. “What did you want to ask me earlier?”
I hesitate a second to ensure we’re truly alone. “It’s Cassian. He’s been acting... off.”
“You mean aside from that gigantic bruise on his face?”
“Yeah, Helen Keller could’ve clocked that one.”
“I obviously noticed it too,” she says with a small laugh. “And not just the bruise. He was edgy tonight.”
“I think it might have something to do with Tessa.”
“Wait... seriously? Tessa as in my Tessa? Tessa as in Tessa Lucchesi Tessa?”
“Yes, principessa. Tessa Lucchesi Tessa. What other Tessa is there? It was something about the way he reacted when you brought up her name. Like it caught him off guard. Then the fact that she didn’t show up tonight and insisted on you not coming by to see her.”
Sabrina frowns. “You know, now that you mention it... Tessahasbeen distant lately. She barely texts me back, and whenshe does, it’s all vague. Even Jasmine asked me last week if something was wrong. It’s not like her.”
I nod slowly, jaw tightening. “It seems another storm’s coming. I don’t know what it is yet, but I can sense it... and Cassian’s not telling us everything.”
She reaches up and kisses the side of my jaw, her soft lips a tease against my skin.
“Whatever it is,” she whispers, “we’ll handle it. Just like we handled everything else. Including our families’ blood feud.”
I peer down at her, her eyes bright and determined, fingers still curled around the back of my neck. And I know she’s right.
There’s nothing I can’t do as Don with my queen by my side.
Chapter 30
Sabrina
Say Yes to Heaven - Lana Del Rey
Ishould’ve known Cato had something up his sleeve the moment I woke up and found he’d left me a note insisting I dress up nice for dinner tonight.
He had already left for work and I was taking the day off. I smiled and made sure to be ready for him when he got home hours later.
That’s how I find myself at a candlelit table across from a man who once threatened to ruin me. We’re at a quaint little Italian restaurant in the West Village as he orders my favorites off the menu like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The server nods vigorously along, a tremor in his voice, his Adam’s apple bobbing, likely from nerves.
Cato Valente tends to have that effect on people.
I wait until our menus are collected and the server walks off promising to bring us more focaccia.
“Stop scaring the waitstaff,” I tease. “You’re about to give the kid a heart attack.”
Cato cocks a brow at me. “Good. I like my waiters alert. Makes him really earn his tip.”
“Assuming he doesn’t drop dead first,” I quip darkly, shaking my head as I grab my iced peach tea. “You know you didn’t have to do anything special for tonight, right?”
“What about tonight is special?”
