Page 29 of Gorgeous Villain (Marchetti Mafia)

It’s like being whisked into a fairy tale.

Masked guests congregate in the ritzy room. I adjust mine to make sure it’s level against my face.

“This is the perfect storm for someone to do something stupid,” Luca comments, straightening the lapels of his black Armani suit. “We don’t know who any of these incognito motherfuckers are.”

I side-eye him. “You could also be one of those incognito motherfuckers if you wore your mask.”

I bought him and Bruno matching ones. Unsurprisingly, both declined to wear them.

“I’m not putting shit on my face,” Luca said. “Be grateful I’m going.”

Even though Bruno has attended plenty of these events with me, he still stands out among people. He’s nearly seven feet, with a buzzed haircut and a mustache that stretches along his entire upper lip.

Luca, on the other hand, would fit in if he didn’t glare at every person as if they wanted to mug him. He’s tall, approachingthirty, and while I’m not into cousin-cest, there’s no denying he’s handsome.

Luca checks his phone like he’s waiting for my father to change his mind and instruct him to bring me home. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars to leave.”

“Do you really think I’d find that bribe impressive?” I extend my leg to show off my heel. “My shoes cost more than that.”

He scratches his temple. “Five grand. Final offer.”

“My clutch was more expensive.” A clutch I conveniently forgot in the car. My phone, which tracks my every move, is also conveniently there.

There are pros and cons of being tracked.

The pro: if I’m kidnapped, my father will find me.

The con: if Antonio shows and shoves me into another closet, my father will also find me.

“What’s your price, then?” Luca asks while Bruno mutters, “You’re wasting your time.”

“Tell my father you’re chaperoning me one night, drop me off wherever I want, and wait until I tell you to pick me up,” I answer.

“Why do I feel like you’ve had that on the tip of your tongue for the perfect opportunity?”

“Because I have.” I run my hand through my necklace, fingering the layers that start with a choker and end at the curve of my breasts. A large opal hangs in the center.

“Oh, how I don’t miss being your age,” Aunt Helena says. “The tracking, the wishing you could sneak around, the curiosity.” She sighs and shuts her brown eyes as if reliving the memories.

Luca directs his gaze to her. “Mom, you’re still tracked everywhere.”

Her grin stretches from ear to ear. “Yes, but by my husband, the man I love.”

“It’s different when it’s ordered by the man you love. It makes you feel”—Aunt Celine pauses to search for the right word—“protected.”

A blue masked man approaches us, interrupting our conversation, and removes his mask.

Tommaso Cavallaro.

The son of Severino Cavallaro, don of the Cavallaro family. Severino is one of my father’s closest allies. He helped my father get retribution for my mother’s death. In exchange, they signed a contract for Benny to marry Severino’s oldest daughter, Neomi.

A union neither Benny nor Neomi wants.

Tommaso is dressed in a black pinstripe suit.

Poor guy.

I’m sure he thought he looked smooth when he left the house. Someone should’ve told him his suit resembles one of those cheap mobster costumes people wear on Halloween.

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