Page 45 of Hostile Rival
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Nico comments next to my ear, his gaze following mine.
“Indeed,” I reply flatly, not wanting to offend the guy.
Nothing stirs inside of me. There isn’t a buzz of intrigue or a hint of excitement. I grab a second flute and pour the champagne down my throat.
Giana notices her father beckoning to her. She heads in our direction, her every step shadowed by a suited bodyguard.
“Giana,mí amor.” Nico kisses his daughter's temple. “This is André Souza.”
André nods at her, his villainous grin heating her cheeks. “Giana.”
He doesn’t step into her like he normally would, visibly keeping his distance. The old André, pre-Sinéad, would have had her little panties all damp and her chest heaving with just saying her name. I guess he saves the flirting for his wife at home.
“And this is Matheus,” Nico continues.
Immediately, Giana’s eyes cut to mine. Her head cocks and her fingers move to the diamond pendant resting on her breastbone. Fiddling with it, she just stands there staring, a small crease forming between her eyebrows. “You look familiar. Have we met?”
“Know anyone from Harvard? We might know some of the same people?” I ask, certain our social circles have never crossed.
Her lashes bat wildly, and her throat works as she swallows. Still fingering the pendant, she takes a quick intake of air. “I don’t think so. I’ve spent some time in New York, though.”
“I prefer Miami,” I admit. “It was nice to meet you. Enjoy your special evening. Don’t let us keep you back from your guests.”
“You are my guest, Matheus Souza,” she replies, moving a little closer. “I have this weird feeling of déjà vu or––”
André pats my shoulder. “My brother is a TikTok sensation. You couldn’t miss him on the platform.”
My scalp prickles and suddenly I get the distinct feeling I’m being watched. Not just by Giana. I glance at her bodyguard. He’s not interested in our conversation, only the people around us.
“Ah, right.” I hear her voice in the back of my mind. “That must be it. Have you been in Sicily long?”
“Months,” I reply, mostly detached from the conversation.
My focus on Giana fades. In the distance, I count at least five of our special ops guys moving under an archway. They’re distinguishable by dark suits, black shirts, and a cord curling from their ears.
Whereas The Covenant are a lot more sophisticated and covert. Their Bluetooth earpieces are discreetly hidden and, in settings like this, they wander among the guests undetected.
Checking out my surroundings, I catch sight of Hunter skirting the foyer and pinpoint Oistin under an archway. Both men are dressed in fitted tuxedos blending in with the other guests, no balaclava in sight.
Is Dani here too?
“Matheus.” Giana sets her hand on my arm. “How long are you staying in Sicily?”
I shrug. “Until I meet André’s babies, then I’ll probably head back to the States.”
Suddenly everything slows, except for my pulse. It goes haywire and my heart starts thumping out of control.
Dani.
It’s impossible not to notice her weaving through the guests at the foot of the sweeping staircase. Not when she’s the hottest fucking woman in the world.
Black fabric clings to her petite figure as if it was poured straight from the devil’s dirty mind. Brown hair, slightly curled, hovers above covered shoulders and a pussy-teasing, thigh high split in her expensive looking dress pumps adrenaline through my veins.
My blood runs red hot.
Christ.
She’s something else.
