Rumors of how the MC had disfigured me were still making the rounds. Speculations about my first social appearance were exploding. So far my family hadn’t confirmed any public appearances, not even the mayor’s party tonight. Only he and his family, as well as the security team had been informed. But I knew the information was probably already leaked and spreading like wildfire. Everyone at the party would be dying to see my new blemishes, especially the invited press. The few photos of me hidden in oversized hoodies definitely hadn’t satisfied their hunger for a good story. They wanted scandalous, bloody deeds.
I slipped into the smooth purple fabric of my dress. Skin-tight silk, hugging my body and leaving my back bare, allowing everyone to see the tattoo between my shoulder blades. I’d considered hiding it under a layer of cloth, but it wouldn’t make people talk less. Everyone who’d come to see my fall would see me rising from the goddamn ashes. I was my father’s daughter.
I brushed my fingers across the selection of earrings Dad, Matteo and Mom had bought for me over the last few weeks. My ear had completely healed by now and wearing jewelry wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. I chose an eye-catching white gold piece that ended in a diamond-studded teardrop and snaked all the way up my ear. I put on a matching necklace and wore my hair up so the earring as well as the tattoo would be prominently displayed.
A soft knock sounded and Mom poked her head in. She too was already dressed for the party, looking angelic in a pearlescent dress with her blonde hair framing her face. The contrast between us couldn’t have been bigger than in this moment. Me with the tattoo and dark eyes, purple lipstick, and nail polish.
“Femme fatale,” said Mom with a look of awe.
“You really like it?” I asked, turning around so Mom could see the back and my tattoo. Of course, she’d seen it before but I’d never displayed it for the public eye.
“A crown for New York’s princess,” Mom said and came in to touch my cheek. “You are you, Marcella. You aren’t me and you definitely aren’t what people want you to be. Be you, unapologetically, all right? Your father and I have your back.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said quietly, trying not to get emotional and ruin my makeup.
“Oh, and a bike just pulled up. I assume it’s your Maddox.”
My Maddox. Mom still hadn’t met him yet. Dad had refused to let him near her or Valerio. “I asked him to accompany me as my bodyguard.”
“Your dad mentioned it.”
“But he doesn’t approve.”
Mom gave me a knowing smile. “You know your father. I’d like to meet him.”
My eyes widened. “You mean now?”
“Yes, why not? Or don’t you want me to meet your boyfriend, that’s what he is?”
“Yes, he is. Not officially, but I want him to be…”
“I’ll ask him in so he and I can get to know each other.”
“You sure Dad will approve?” I asked, smiling ironically.
“I know how to handle your father,” Mom said before she slipped out of my room.
As if I hadn’t been nervous enough about my first social appearance, now Maddox would meet my mother for the first time. I wanted Mom to like Maddox, and Maddox to like her. I wanted my family to accept Maddox one day and for us all to gather around the dining table and celebrate family festivities together like one happy family.
I took a deep breath, gathering my courage for what lay ahead.
I pulled up in front of the Vitiello mansion, ready to wait until Marcella emerged with her bodyguards. I’d gotten many curious looks as I’d rode my bike through New York in a business suit, tie, and cufflinks and all. I had never worn a business suit in my life, but for Marcella, I’d walked into one of those fancy Italian designer stores and bought a slim-fit tailored two-piece, according to the vendor. For Marcella, I would have worn a fucking clown costume if it would have made her happy.
That she took me to this party meant a lot to me.
The door opened but instead of Marcella with her entourage, Luca stood in the doorway. At once worry overcame me. Had something happened to Marcella? Wouldn’t she attend the party? Or maybe she’d decided not to take a simple biker with her after all. Even if I only paraded as her bodyguard, people would think what they wanted and probably come closer to the truth than Marcella wanted.
Luca surprised me again when he motioned me in. I got off my bike and hurried toward him. “What’s wrong?” I asked as I entered the mansion.
Luca’s expression was so tense it only increased my concern.
Then my eyes landed on Aria Vitiello, in all her blonde glory, smiling at me. No wonder that Marcella was too beautiful for words. “Now I know where Marcella got her beauty.”