Or not.
“Change of subject?” he suggests.
I move my gaze to where Alex was standing but don’t see her. Paolo has made it to his table now, his father at his side, and his younger brother sitting across from him. But no Alex. With another sweep of my eyes, I spot her back as she walks out of the ballroom.
“Actually, I’m needing to speak with someone, but we’ll catch up in a bit.”
My back is to him before he can respond, but I hear a “sure” behind me. I make my way from the ballroom and turn my head from side to side when I’m in the hallway.
The bathrooms are on my right, and I walk that way and lean against the wall a few feet in front of the door.
After a minute, it swings open and Alex walks out, wiping underneath her eyes. It looks like she’s splashed water on her face and is now rubbing away running mascara. Her hairline is wet, and the way her hair is pulled back makes it noticeable.
Her eyes lift, and she startles, her hand flinging to her chest and her body going rigid. The bathroom door slams shut just as she relaxes.
“You scared me,” she says with a nervous chuckle.
“Did I?”
She laughs again. “Yes. What are you doing here?”
I turn my head toward the ballroom entryway, then back to Alex.
WhatamI doing here? Confronting her? Seriously? Then why is my dick growing hard?
What if this was her whole intention? What if shewantedme to follow her?
“So you’re Russian, huh?”
She swallows, and my eyes dart to her neck. She makes a fist and pumps her arm. “I’m rushin’ from the bathroom.” She laughs nervously for a third time, and again, I don’t return it. “Sorry, bad pun.” She stands up straight and allows the anxious smile to vanish. “Yes, I’m Russian.” She raises her brows. “Is that an issue?”
“For me or for you?”
“Um…” She bites her lip and fidgets. Is this an act? Because if it isn’t, they chose the wrong girl to do their bidding. She’s transparent.
Or she’s not involved in anything.
I shrug. “It’s a little weird that Leo Romano would choose a Russian girl to marry his son, don’t you think? Given our current standing with your people.”
“My people?” She shakes her head and raises her hands. “Look—”
“And thenwehappen to meet.”
Her mouth stays open, and her eyes narrow. “What are you implying?”
“And youhappento want to fuck me. The day of my father’s funeral.”
“I didn’t even know who you—”
“What, you people couldn’t wait a day? A week? Is what you’re doing so important it had to start before my father was in the ground?” I laugh, bitterness coating my tongue. “Or was the point to strike when I was vulnerable?”
I close the distance between us and cup Alex’s chin. Her jaw flexes as she swallows, and she winces. She looks guilty. She’sactingguilty. And I believe it, don’t I? Was I really that stupid?
“I have some sour news to share with you, Alexa. I don’thaveany vulnerabilities.”
Alex pushes my hand away and takes a step back. She narrows her eyes. “Everyone has vulnerabilities, Settimo. Including you. You know what one of them is?”
I bite down until my teeth protest. I inhale a breath, but it does nothing to steady me. “What would that be?”