Page 33 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

She looks divine. Her presence commands immediate attention, and I can hear whispers spreading throughout the room.

People are wondering who she is. Well, they’ll soon find out that she’s here with me.

Like a madman running from a bull, I push through the throng of guests, focused solely on reaching her. Weaving between clusters of people, their glasses clinking together in toasts, I finally make my way to Camela's side.

"Camela," I repeat, louder this time, and she turns to look at me, her brown doe-eyed eyes bearing into me. “You came,” I say rather breathlessly.

“I came,” she whispers and lowers her eyes before raising them to meet mine again. She looks nervous as if she has debated herself about accepting this invitation. I need to show her she has no reason for regret.

"You look absolutely breathtaking," I say, and take her hand to my lips, giving it a quick kiss. Her eyes meet mine, and I see a flicker of surprise before she smiles warmly.

"Vincenzo, thank you," she says, her voice soft yet confident. "I'm glad I could make it. I must admit, I was surprised at having received an invitation after…”

Her voice trails off, so she, too, has been thinking of how she left things the previous time. But I don’t want to make her uncomfortable or put her on the spot right now. We will have plenty of time to discuss that later when she feels more comfortable and welcome.

"Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?" I ask, extending my hand to her, letting bygones be bygones. The music swells around us, perfectly timed for our rendezvous.

"Of course," she sounds relieved, placing her delicate hand in mine. "I would be delighted."

As we make our way to the dance floor, I can't help but feel a sense of triumph. Camela is here, and the evening suddenly holds so much more promise than before.

The faint scent of jasmine from Camela's perfume fills my senses as we step onto the dance floor. Her nervous smile betrays an underlying excitement. The atmosphere around us buzzes with music and laughter as couples twirl and sway under the soft glow of chandeliers.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation," I say, pulling her close and guiding her into a gentle waltz. "I'm truly glad you could make it tonight."

"Of course, Vincenzo," she replies, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. I saw you’d send a hand-written invitation."

“Would you believe me if I told you I threw this party just to see you again?”

She stops and takes a small, jerky breath, her eyes reading my face. “You joke!” she exclaims in disbelief.

“A joke would be me telling you that’s a hideous dress,” I say in earnest, taking her hand and pulling her closer.

She breaks into a fit of giggles. “And now, you jest!”

I shrug, happy to be called out for what I’m doing. As we gracefully glide across the floor, I can't help but notice how perfectly our movements synchronize. It's as if we've been dancing together for years.

Two minutes later, she leans close to my ear and whispers, her breath soft on my ear. “Well then, if this party was to see me, I’m sorry I was late. The thing is, I wasn’t sure how you felt about me anymore.”

"Camela," I begin, cautiously choosing my words. "The other night, when you left so suddenly... I hope I didn't offend you in any way."

She hesitates for a moment, her gaze shifting to the side before returning to meet mine. "No, not at all," she assures me, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just that... Well, I got scared. I’ve been burned before, and I hardly even know you. I didn’t know whether you were toying with me or truly interested.”

“So you ran because you didn’t know me?” I ask, genuinely concerned.

She looks embarrassed and flushes. But then, she gives me the gentlest nod. I feel like a complete and utter fool – I never made her feel comfortable.

I stop dancing and take a step back. She looks around the dance floor rather nervously.

I want to show her more of my world and let her get to know me. "Would you like a tour of my home, Camela?" I ask, extending my hand towards her. It’s a great way to get to know a man.”

She looks surprised, but still, she places her hand in mine.

We leave the dance floor behind. I guide her through the grand hallways, stopping to introduce her to several influential figures attending the party. She listens intently, nodding and offering her insights on various topics, all the while maintaining a sense of grace and poise that leaves me captivated.

Eventually, I get sick of the interruptions and show her around a private route.

"Here's my library," I announce, pushing open the heavy oak doors to reveal the rows upon rows of leather-bound volumes that line the walls. "It’s my favorite room, where I spend most of my free time."

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