Page 6 of Cage of Thorns and Blood

“Why would I be eating alone in a super sexy dress? I wouldn’t do that.” I frown at her.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Renata, you wear sexy dresses to put out the garbage. You love nothing more than male attention. Don’t start acting coy now. It’s too damn late.”

“If he wants what he can’t have, shouldn’t I dress demurely. Act shy?”

“Darling. I’ve already told you to wear a sexy but tasteful dress. Think Monroe, not stripper, and wow him. Go take the card and enjoy your shopping.”

She turns on her heel and leaves me for the second time. At the door she pauses. “You might want a touch of filler in your lips. They’re naturally full, but a bit more of a pout won’t hurt, and get your frown lines done. I keep telling you, one can’t afford to wait with Botox; you must start young to maintain your unblemished skin.”

I resist the urge to throw my glass at her head as she walks away.

I won’t be getting filler or Botox, but I do text my facialist and stylist and book with them both.

If I’m going to seduce my nemesis and the one who got away, I need to look my very best.

Chapter 3

Renata

The moment I realize I cannot do this is the moment I take my seat in the dining room of the Carlton Bar.

Soon I will see Matteo Mancini again. Nerves flood me, making the scent of food nauseating. It’s a sign that this is a crazy idea. I’m not in control here. I’m already screwed up inside, and I haven't even seen the man I’m here to seduce.

If I’ve learned one thing in life, it’s that the moment one loses control emotionally is the moment one needs to get out of the game.

My palms are sweaty, and I pick up the thick, embossed napkin and surreptitiously wipe them. Then I take hold of the glass of champagne and pour it down my throat. Not bothering to wait for the sommelier, I reach over for the ice bucket, grab the sweating bottle, and top my glass up.

I force myself to sip at the drink. I need to maintain some semblance of control, and thankfully the full glass of fizzy bubbles that I’ve just downed soothes my nerves a little.

“You’ve got this. You’re Renata Andretti. No one screws you over and gets away with it,” I say the words in my head, making sure I don’t move my lips. The last thing I want is for people to be staring at me because I’m talking to myself.

My phone beeps, and I glance at it to see a message from Carol, Cindy’s godmother. She’s become a good friend. We both like the finer things in life, and she’s always up for a party and a good time. The woman used to hang around with the movie stars and gigolos who spent their summers on the Italian and French rivieras. She told me so many amazing and lurid stories on our last holiday together.

It's nice having a close female friend. I don’t think Cindy minds. The girl is so caught up with Nico, I doubt she would care if I married Carol. For me, the friendship is kind of a big deal. I don’t make friends easily. I have Jilly, and that’s about it. Women always seem intimidated by me. Jilly says it is because I’m too pretty, but that’s bullshit. It’s because I’m too confident, at least on the outside. Too hard, as well. Again, on the outside.

Maybe, they can sense my all-consuming drive for revenge.

Perhaps it makes me toxic. Too bitter to their girly sweet. Whatever the reason, women don’t gravitate toward me.

The door opens, and my heart speeds up, but it’s just an elderly couple being shown to their table.

I think about the plan Mamma has put into place as I draw shapes on the tablecloth with my fingernail. She wants me to bring down the Mancinis, but I want to bring both families down; unless my beloved kin start to show me the respect I deserve.

I want in on the board, and I want power and a say, and if they don’t give me that, then Matteo won’t be the only one destroyed by the events being put into play here. In fact, I may choose him over them. Why not? He fucked me over, and so did they.

If I betray my family, it will be their own fault for coming up with this madcap scheme. Put a loose cannon like me into play, and who knows where the dice may fall.

My parents might have opened Pandora’s box to their own destruction by setting all this in motion. Who knows what double backstabbing games I could play. Hell, I might decide to feed my family false information, or tell Matteo their plan. I genuinely don’t know how I’m going to play this.

I guess I’ll find out as I go along.

The door opens again, and I glance up to see an attractive couple enter. He’s all blond and tan, and she has dark hair and pale skin. They look striking together. I’m so busy watching them, I don’t immediately notice the man behind them, until they peel off the left to head to their table, and he walks right toward me.

I’d recognize him anywhere with those dark eyes, but Mamma is right, everything else about Matteo Mancini is different, and if she thought I’d take any comfort from that, she was wrong.

He’s different in all the worse ways, so far as my ability to resist him and maintain a cool head goes. He’s no longer a pretty boy; instead, he’s a dangerously and ruggedly handsome man who fills out his suit so well he makes my mouth water.

His hair is shorter than it used to be, but it’s not cropped. It looks almost corporate, except for the slight wave in it and the curl at the base of his neck tickling his starched collar.

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