Nikita pauses. His muscles bulge, and I drop my gaze to his hands to see them clenched.
I just can’t help myself, can I?
He slowly turns and raises a brow.
Just shut up.
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
“If I’m a peace offering for the Italian’s, why doesn’t the don know who I am?”
Nikita eyes me for a moment. I’m not sure whether he wants to fuck me or strangle me.
“We’re not extending peace to him… For the future, it would be wise of you to not worry about things that do not concern you, Alexa.”
Nikita turns toward the door and leaves without another word.
My ears heat, and my eyes narrow at the vacant door. Doesn’t concern me? The purpose of my stolen freedom doesn’tconcernme?
My anger is only rivaled by my confusion. Worry trails behind but is gaining speed. Worry for Settimo.
What the hell is Nikita planning?
9
SETTIMO
“Who are you looking for?”
I pause scanning the ballroom and turn to my brother, Anthony. I raise a brow. “What are you talking about?”
“You keep looking around like you’re expecting someone. What, is my company not good enough for you?” Anthony laughs and roams his gaze over the guests at Lorenzo’s engagement party. It’s nice. Elegantly decorated, chocolate fountain, a fucking ice sculpture. Lorenzo’s fiancée has good taste.
And there are plenty of people here. Far more than I would’ve predicted, given my brother’s deficiency of friend-making skills. I spotted Leo Romano a little after I got here, which means Paolo must be coming. Maybe even Alex.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Anthony, but you’re not the kind of company I’m looking for tonight.”
“Ahhh.” One side of his lips lift in a smirk, and he gazes into the crowd again. There’s a dance floor with about ten couples swaying in each others’ arms, and several women staring longingly off to the side. Anthony’s gaze zeros in on one of them.
He points in the most indiscreet way possible and grins. “That one. Redhead with the black dress.”
I shake my head. “Pass.”
“Hm.” Anthony rattles the ice in his glass and continues staring at the woman. He downs his scotch in one gulp and hands me the glass. “Suit yourself.”
I chuckle and watch him saunter over to the woman. Her eyes light up as soon as she notices he’s approaching.
If these things bum me out, I can’t imagine how a woman like that feels. She’s probably had her wedding dress picked out for a decade.
I set Anthony’s glass on an empty tray when a waitress comes by, and then I go sit at my table. Six seats circle it. One for me, Anthony, Lorenzo, Amelia, and two of her bridesmaids. I wonder if Amelia told them they’d be surrounded by mobsters at all this wedding shit, or if she even told them who Lorenzo is. Probably not, but I don’t consider it for long. My brother’s already broken enough rules, what’s one more?
I huff to myself and take a pull of my Jack and Coke. I’m trying to go light on the alcohol tonight. I’ve been trying for a week now, and so far, I’ve managed to hold off until about four in the afternoon most days. I miss the wine at lunch.
The hairs on my arms raise, and pinpricks light up the nerves in my neck.
I allow my gaze to roam the room for the umpteenth time this evening, and when I do, I find who I’ve been looking for.
Alex stares right at me from the other side of the ballroom, near the entrance, and she gives a tiny wave when our eyes meet. She’s standing back behind Paolo, who’s smiling and shaking the hand of a man I don’t recognize. It looks like they just got here.