Page 97 of Unforgiving Queen
“What are we not looking at?” Isla asked, showing up out of nowhere. “My husband said I look sexy as fuck.”
“Your husband’s lying to you,” Raven muttered. “You look like cotton candy.”
“That’s exactly what he said,” she beamed. “So later he’ll eat me like cotton candy too.”
“Gross.”
“TMI.”
“At least someone’s getting laid,” Phoenix said, ending the badgering.
“Athena’s about to point out someone hot to us,” I whispered, looking at my friend pointedly.
Isla’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Ohhh. Well, my apologies for interrupting. I’m all ears.”
We all stared at Athena, waiting. She shifted on her legs uncomfortably, her eyes darting around, and we followed her gaze. But she never paused over a single man.
“Come on, don’t leave us in suspense,” Raven bit out.
“He disappeared,” she muttered. “He was right there but he isn’t anymore.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe my choice of wardrobe scared him away.”
“Probably,” Phoenix signed, snorting softly. “Did you see Isla’s brother and his wife? They look like they stepped out of a magazine.”
“Courtesy of Reina Romero designs,” Isla said, rolling her eyes. “But hey, at least we stand out.”
“With these clothes, we definitely won’t get laid,” Raven grumbled, waving the bartender over. “We need another round of shots.”
“Except for Isla,” Athena corrected. “She’s getting freaky with her sugar daddy.”
“I think you mean silver fox,” Phoenix corrected her.
I smiled sheepishly, not really surprised at how our entrance had been received. I didn’t think Papà would call us out on it, but whatever. I glanced over my shoulder to find him and Grandma arguing, or at least it looked that way.
My gaze skipped over them to a handful of recognizable people. Manuel Marchetti, the sexy, hot-as-hell uncle to Enrico Marchetti. The two were close in age and behaved like brothers. The Marchetti boys, Enzo and Amadeo, who waved, grinning wide and looking like little suave Italians. They uttered something to their father who nodded, then the two rushed over to us.
“Hello, ladies,” they said. “You’re looking hot.”
The four of us chuckled at their attempt to flirt. No doubt Enzo and Amadeo would break hearts one day.
“You’re not looking too shabby yourselves,” I told them. They looked like mini versions of their father, their suits impeccable.
“Do we look good enough to get dates?” Enzo challenged.
A round of shots landed in front of us. We paused to down them, then slammed the empty glasses onto the bartop.
I flicked a look at Enzo. “Sorry, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass,” I said. “You being underage and all. However, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’d rather date you than—”
A hand landed on my shoulder, and I stiffened. “If you say ‘than my betrothed,’ I’m going to take it personally.”
I gulped, glancing at Phoenix who was frowning at her glass, the tension in her shoulders unmistakable.
Turning my head to meet his gaze, I flashed him a sweet smile. “You know me so well. That was exactly what I was going to say.”
Before I could gauge his reaction, my eyes snagged on a dark figure across the room, and I forgot all about Dante.
Instead, all I could see was his brother, looking devastatingly handsome in a suit. He’d styled his hair in a way that highlighted the chiseled lines of his cheekbones. His dark-as-coal eyes burned into mine, and my smile dimmed, melting off my face.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
