Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
The flat of Amadeo’s hand spans my lower back as he tugs me to him, taking that kiss to another level. One I hadn’t intended on traversing. I resist, surprised, but he is unbothered. He forces my head backward, and when my mouth opens, he slips his tongue inside. All I can do is gasp, my eyes flying open to meet his momentarily before someone clears their throat, and he breaks off our kiss.
I exhale a shuddering breath, staring up at him, seeing his amusement as I reach out to hold the back of a chair to steady myself. It’s then I catch Bastian’s amber eyes on me. He tilts his glass, swallowing the contents, and pours another from the bottle on the bar.
“Vittoria,” Amadeo says, turning me away from his brother to face those at the table. “This is my uncle, Sonny Caballero.” He gestures to the creep who doesn’t bother to stand but nods, and it takes all I have not to shudder as that same feeling of earlier moves through me. I don’t like him. And if I had to choose between him and Amadeo or even Bastian, I wouldn’t hesitate to run into the brothers’ arms.
“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Russo,” he says. He sits back in his seat and picks up his drink, eyes openly moving over me. Amadeo’s hand tightens around my waist, and he turns me toward the woman at Sonny’s side.
“His wife, Anna.”
Anna doesn’t even bother with words. She just lets her lips form something that might appear like the beginnings of a smile, then drops it. She holds eye contact as if through that alone, she will communicate exactly what she thinks of me.
“And Bruno Cocci.”
Bruno reaches a hand to me and bows just a little in a friendly gesture. “Very nice to meet you, Ms. Russo.”
I shake his hand. “And you, Mr. Cocci.”
“Bruno, please.”
“Only if you’ll call me Vittoria.”
He nods, releases my hand, and Amadeo pulls out a chair for me to sit at his side so I’m between him and Bruno. Bastian makes his way over then, sets his whiskey down, both glass and bottle, and takes his seat on the other side of Bruno. Amadeo’s eyes are on his brother, and he does not look pleased.
There’s that rift.
Amadeo raises a hand, and the servers descend, one carrying a bottle of champagne and another a tray of crystal flutes.
“Vittoria and I are thrilled to have you here to share this momentous occasion with us.” I feel my eyebrows disappear into my forehead. “As we announce our engagement.”
A moment of stunned silence descends. Someone clears their throat.
“Rather sudden, don’t you think?” Sonny asks, picking up his whiskey.
“Love at first sight. Isn’t that right, Vittoria?”
I look at Amadeo. If I say anything else, if I call him out on this sham, will anyone help me? Take me back home? I glance at Bastian, whose jaw is so tight I’m afraid he will crack a tooth.
“That’s right,” I say.
“What’s the saying? True love conquers all.” Amadeo deadpans. “I don’t know where the papers got the idea she was taken by force, do you, uncle?”
His uncle watches Amadeo as he drains his glass, then turns to me. “I heard your father’s funeral was… eventful.”
I glance at Amadeo. People know what happened, don’t they? There must be rumors at least. I meet Sonny’s eyes. “I don’t know what you mean,” I say.
“Hm.”
“As I was saying, I’m here to introduce Vittoria to the family and announce our engagement. Now that the sad event of Geno Russo’s passing is behind us, I hope you’ll join us for a celebratory drink.” He pops the cork, and I jump like I always do when a cork pops. Champagne bubbles over the top of the bottle, and he pours six glasses, then deliberately pushes them in front of each person sitting at the table.
He picks his up, as does Bruno. They turn to me and wait. I pick up my glass.
All eyes move to Bastian next, and although obviously reluctant, he picks his up as well.
“Uncle?” Amadeo says.
Sonny glares at him. He hates him. I need to understand why. Sonny glances at his wife and gestures to her glass. She picks hers up, and he does the same.
“Congratulations, nephew,” he says and drinks the smallest sip before setting it down.
Amadeo nods, then turns to his brother, who drains his glass, pushes his chair back loudly, and stands. “Excuse me.” A moment later, he’s gone, but just then, servers come to deliver our first course, and people begin to approach the table. They all go to Amadeo first—some friendly, some not—before greeting his uncle and looking at me like I’m a new act at the circus. The latest freak at the show. There’s an array of press and politicians, some of whom I recognize, and even two detectives and a police chief who slips me his card. I notice they go directly to Sonny and don’t shake Amadeo’s hand. So he doesn’t have the cops in his pocket. That’s interesting.