I grip his hand and return it to my upper thigh, drawing his attention back to me. When he turns to face me again, something tight breaks open in my chest, and I can breathe. “First, you don’t want me, and now you think I’m ignoring you, Valentina. Make up your mind, babe.”
I hate the way he says my name. The way he calls me babe as though it’s affectionate. Every time I hear it, I want to throw up. But I can’t, not with Rose in his clutches. “Sorry, we spent all this time getting ready. Don’t you think I look nice?”
He lets his arm fall away from Rose and faces me fully. I almost sigh with relief. “You know you’re beautiful. It’s the only thing you’ve got going for you. That and your sweet honeypot I’m going to claim when we get married.”
I barely stifle the gag which surges from my empty belly. Rose and I skipped dinner with my father and Sal, complaining we had too much to do to be ready for the party. Well, if I do vomit on him, then there won’t be much of a mess.
“Thank you for the compliment,” I manage after a moment. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice my hesitation in answering.
“Our kids are going to be so hot,” he says.
Another gag wells up inside me, and I have to turn my eyes away before he sees the disgust there. I know what kind of businesses he runs for his family. And the little side projects in human trafficking that keep him flush with cash.
Every Friday when my father goes to his meetings, Sal shows me videos. Clips of his men touchi—bile rises in my throat as I cut off the thought. I have to press the back of my hand to my mouth to ensure nothing comes up. It was bad enough when I thought he only dealt in grown women.
My hands are shaking, and I wrap them around my waist. His eyes narrow, but as he opens his mouth, the car jerks to a halt outside a high-rise building.
For a second, he stares out the window and then nods. “We’re here. Get the fuck out so we can make our entrance together.”
Gladly. I shove the door open and take a deep breath of the clean night air. Until he curls a proprietary arm around my waist and leads me toward the building. Rose trails us. We lock eyes for a second, her asking if I’m okay while I do the same with her. We both nod and focus on the mission: have a tiny bit of fun without riling Sal too much.
The foyer of the building is lovely. Decorated in creams and maroon with a sparkling crystal chandelier hanging in front of a bank of elevators.
Inside the elevator, a man in a uniform nods and presses the button I assume is for the party. Sal’s arm locks around me tighter the higher we climb.
“Don’t embarrass me tonight,” he says, his eyes on the number panel as we ascend. “Either of you. Or I’ll make you regret it.”
Rose and I once again lock eyes behind his back in a moment of solidarity. We can do this.
The elevator opens to a beautiful glittering crowd milling about a grand foyer. The white marble floor has matching marble columns that line the edge of the circular space. We squeeze past couples until we spot the open doorway to a large ballroom. Inside, tables skirt a small dance floor as servers carrying tinkling trays of champagne flutes weave through the throng.
Sal releases me and smooths his hair back. “Find a table and wait for me. If I see you talking to another man, I’ll kill him.”
2
Adrian
The only thing I hate more than parties are parties where everyone is considering the best way to kill me.
I can almost see the yearn to maim and dismember in their eyes as they pass me with little dips of their chin. Every single one of us is a liar. And the party to open the season makes us all a hundred times worse.
This year, it’s my turn to host the opening gala. As if sparkle and glam could negate the blood that would hit the streets in short order. Likely before the first guests leave for the evening.
The heavy weight of a palm clamping my shoulder makes me tense up until Kai, my second, comes around into my field of vision. “Ready for this, old man?”
I wince. “Cut out the old man shit. I’m only a few years older than you.”
He grins, all gleaming white teeth. “But about ten years older than all the little girls these mommies and daddies are throwing at you. I hear whispers they want to find you a queen.”
And not a single one of them will know I’m looking for one myself. Otherwise, I’m vulnerable to both preying mothers and scheming fathers on all sides. Until I secure a bride, my father’s empire won’t officially be mine in the eyes of these people.