Page 52 of Devil's Iris
But as we round a corner and he comes into view, mystomach dips. He’s not alone. Sitting next to him, looking prim and proper, is his daughter—what was her name again?
“Romero!” Julian waves enthusiastically, spotting me at the same moment I see them. I shift my gaze from his daughter to level a frown at him.
“I was under the impression this meeting was strictly business, Julian,” I say as I take the seat across from them, not bothering to hide my displeasure.
He chuckles, either oblivious to my mood or choosing to ignore it entirely. “It is. My Ari knows everything about my business. I want her to follow in my footsteps, you see.” He leans over to whisper the last part as if he’s sharing state secrets.
I’m not amused. Not even close.
“By the way, I got the calls from your brothers. Great work, my man.” He signals for a waiter. “I can’t wait until we’re all one big family—in every sense of the word.” He gives me a loaded look before glancing meaningfully at Arianna.
“I got engaged last night.” Iknowit’s all over the tabloids by now. That’s precisely why I chose to propose publicly, and why I tipped off that reporter to show up at the River Café for ‘breaking news’. All to make one thing crystal clear:I’m taken.
“Bah.” Julian waves a dismissive hand. “That means nothing when—” His phone interrupts, cutting off whatever garbage he was about to spout. Lucky for him, because I’m rapidly losing my patience with his condescending attitude. My engagement means nothing? Go to hell.
“Excuse me.” He pushes back from the table, lifting his phone to his ear. “Talk to me, Yaris.”
I fix the girl with a steady look, inhaling deeply while reminding myself that her father’s greed and delusions aren’t her fault. There’s no need for me to take my anger out on her. Then she leans forward across the table, much like Julian didearlier, the low cut of her blouse revealing just enough to make the tops of her breasts almost spill out.
My lips curl in disgust as I meet her blue eyes—cold, manipulative blue that feels wrong after looking into Leni’s warm slate gray. “Really?”
She blinks at me and leans back, feigning innocence. “What?”
I raise a brow, letting my incredulity show. “I thought you might have been an unwilling pawn in all this. But you're not, are you?”
For a moment her mask slips, revealing the real Arianna and the calculating mind underneath. “I’ve been groomed my whole life for a marriage that would benefit my father’s interests. And sooner or later, it will happen.” She shrugs like we’re discussing nothing more than the weather. “You’re not an ugly man, Romero. I’d be crazy not to want it to be you.” A playful wink follows as her hand slides over mine on the table.
Revulsion crawls up my spine and I yank my hand out from hers immediately, my skin feeling contaminated by her touch. “Too bad nothing will ever happen between us. I’m a happily engaged man.” I get to my feet, adjusting the lapels of my jacket with sharp, angry movements.
Julian chooses that exact moment to walk back in, practically jogging towards me with obvious panic in his brown eyes. “Where are you going? We haven’t even ordered yet.”
“It’s time to put an end to this charade, Julian,” I state impatiently. “You want my brothers’ backing, and you’ll get it—in exchange for the information you promised. Right now. Where is Katie Pierce?”
He looks down, actually appearing ashamed for a moment. “I have my best investigators searching for her. In fact, I just received an update from one of them.” He looks up, brandishing his phone. “They’ll find her soon and–”
“Fuck.” I shake my head, disgusted that I let him jerk mearound for so long. “Enough of this, Julian. Don’t contact me again unless you have concrete information I can use.”
“But what about my daughter? Ari is?—”
I’m already walking away, not needing to hear another word of his bullshit. I have real work to do, actual problems that need solving. And a fiancée to get home to.
19
ROMERO
I get home an hour before the dinner is scheduled to start, and I’m floored to see my fiancée waiting for me at the door, all dressed up.
“What do you think?” She twirls around for me, her hair bouncing with the movement.
“Absolutely ravishing,bellissimo.”And I mean it. She’s wearing a blue dress that clings to her curves like a second skin, making my mouth water with the urge to trace those lines with my tongue. Her hair is a masterpiece too—soft, glossy curls cascading past her shoulders. Without thinking, I reach out and wrap one around my finger, mesmerized by the silky texture.
She steps back, slapping my hand away. “Careful, you’re going to unravel the curls! It took me hours to get them to look this nice.”
My lips curl at her indignation. She’s adorable. “Right.”
“What do you think? Is this enough to meet your family? What are your brothers’ wives like? Will I look underdressed compared to them?” Self-consciousness creeps into her eyes—something I’ve never seen before—and it pisses me off. She has no reason to doubt herself.
For her, I force myself to think critically about the women in my life. Redheaded Elira, brown-haired Emilia, and Gianna with her dark hair. What did they wear to previous dinners?
