Tristian rolled his eyes. “Romeo. You think he can really keep his dick in his pants when some of the most beautiful single girls from every powerful family in the Cosa Nostra are present? The bosses have been throwing women at him all night.” He winced. “Just never thought he’d pick Celeste out of all of them; she’s literally the worst.”
“Agreed.” I clenched my teeth. “Then again, it’s Romeo; he always has a reason behind his fucking, right?”
Tristian’s hand froze over his fork for a few brief seconds before he clenched it and turned to me. “Are you okay?”
“Actually.” I licked my dry lips. “I’ve been fighting a headache all night; I just didn’t want to worry you.”
Concern etched his features as his brows knit together. “What can I do?”
“Nothing.” I smiled. “I think I’m just going to go back to the suite; besides, I have to be up at seven, so I look like the perfect Sinacore bride.”
He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “You already are.”
I gently pulled my hand away. “Thanks, Tristian.”
“No need to thank me for telling the truth. Do you want me to walk you up to your room?”
“Thank you, but I’m fine.” I grabbed my crocodile Prada clutch from the table. “I’ll see you at the altar.”
He stood and leaned in, kissing each cheek. “I’ll be the one in the black tux next to the minister, just in case you get confused.”
I froze as my heart slammed against my chest.
It was like he could read my mind.
Did he know? Assume? Was I that transparent?
“I won’t.” I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Get confused.”
His jaw clenched just briefly before he whispered, “I know.”
It was the first time in years that I saw a crack in Tristian’s otherwise perfect façade. All because of me. All because of his brother.
All because of the secrets and lies, the love and the hate between the three of us.
But Tristian knew, more than anyone, that I kept my word and that my loyalty would always be to the one who fought for me, not the one who gave me up.
“Sweet dreams, Eden.”
I smiled, unable to find the right words, and worried that he’d hear the hitch in my voice. Already my steps wavered as I weaved in and out of the crowd.
I waited until I was inside the elevator.
Until I was alone.
Just me and my fragile heart.
I watched the numbers light up as the elevator ascended.
And as the distance between Romeo and myself grew, I told my heart we would be okay because we had Tristian.
I was lucky, right?
So damn lucky.
And yet, two tears escaped.
Tears of anger.
Sadness.
Tears he didn’t deserve in the first place.
Tomorrow I would become Tristian Sinacore’s wife—tonight…I would drink Romeo Sinacore away.
I exhaled in relief the minute the elevator stopped on my floor, and I found my room. I pulled my key card from my purse and tapped it against the door. It clicked open, and I could finally breathe as I kicked off my heels and went straight to the bar in my suite.
The alcohol was only temporary, but it would at least numb the catastrophe of Romeo. It had been one thing after another. Like he couldn’t help but continuously bruise my heart until it bled. I’d reached my boiling point. Instead of pouring a glass, I grabbed the bottle and made my way out onto the balcony to drink away the memory of him.
I don’t know how much time went by when I heard a knock on my door.
Moments later, Romeo’s voice echoed through the room. “Red, open the door.”
I shouldn’t have walked back inside.
I shouldn’t have let my heart guide my mind.
I shouldn’t…
I shouldn’t…
I shouldn’t…
Have opened that goddamn door.
I did.
Now I stood in front of him, with no one else around, just our truths between us.
I went against my heart this time, spewing, “You need to leave.”
“Is that what you want, Eden? For me to leave?”
I hesitated for just a second, and he kicked open the door and walked right in. Grabbing the bottle of Jack from my hand, he kicked it closed behind him. “That’s what I thought.”
“What do you want, Romeo?”
“You know what I fucking want.”
I scoffed out, “Really? That’s news to me. I never know what you want because guess what? You never tell me.”
“I don’t need to tell you, Red. You know me better than anyone.”
“Bullshit. I don’t know you at all.”
“Is that right?”
“Absolutely.”
He stepped toward me, and I stepped back.
“Where are you going, baby?”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your baby. I’m not your anything.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” In the blink of an eye, he backed me into the wall and caged me in with his arms. Whispering against my lips, “You’re my everything.”
“Ugh.” My head fell back. “I can smell the woman’s perfume on you. Whose bed did you crawl out of?”