Page 43 of The Billionaire's Pact

Once in his orbit, it was impossible not to be enthralled. He looked incredibly handsome in his tuxedo, and he was full of compliments. While I’d never paid them much attention in the past, his lifted my esteem. I reveled in the glamour. The black cocktail gown was wearing fit my curves, and I loved the elegant way the satin, off-the-shoulder cut accentuated my neck and shoulders. Even the silk stockings and high heels made me feel glamorous.

Our car moved forward, and Rocco pulled out a velvet box from his inside pocket.

“What’s this?” I asked when he held it out to me.

“Open it, Adelina.”

My hands shook as I did. Inside were two teardrop diamond earrings. “They’re beautiful, but I…I can’t,” I stuttered and shook my head.

“You must, and hurry. The doorman’s coming,” he said in a demanding tone.

I quickly put the earrings on and tried to frown at him for his spontaneous insistence, but instead I grinned.

He touched one and after, trailed his hand down my neck. “Perfect.”

I shivered and ran my hand over where he touched. “You’re too much. Thank you.”

The doorman opened the door, and my pulse jumped into my throat. I put on the smile I’d practiced—“reserved, but friendly,” which was what Nadia had called it.

Rocco’s hand was light on my waist when I climbed out. I moved closer to him as we walked to the front of the hall. He stopped to speak to the gathered fans and press. “Thank you for not asking questions and respecting our privacy. Right now, we’re going to celebrate our wedding announcement. Thank you.” He waved to the crowd, and people reached over the barrier and shook our hands. However, the press still tried to ask us questions.

“Rocco, you recently broke up with starlet, Marjorie Storm. Why the sudden marriage?”

I fought hard not to look at Rocco. Who’s Marjorie Storm? Then I remembered he had a life before all this, and I was only in his right now because our marriage was arranged. Would he keep a kept woman? I thought about Mama and Glenn. Why did I think I’d have something different? He was flirtatious, and maybe interested in sex, but not serious about me.

“Adelina Belfiore, aren’t you the daughter of Judge Eric Colby? Will he be here?”

I bristled but didn’t answer. Of course the press would find out things about my family, but for some reason, I hadn’t expected it. Rocco gave a quick wave, then rushed us inside the hall.

I stopped walking and he stopped and turned to me.

“Who’s Marjorie?” I asked.

“My ex-girlfriend.” His tone was casual, but had a hint of annoyance.

I peered at him through my lashes. “You’re upset—”

“I’m not upset,” he said, frowning and rubbing his jaw. “The press likes to gossip and start trouble. They do it with everyone I spend any time with. I’m sorry they did it tonight, but trust me. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

His reaction had me concerned, but I didn’t have the time to ask more questions. People were waiting for us at our engagement party. I decided to put Marjorie out of my mind for now, but I needed to know what I was up against. Even if Rocco was downplaying it.

What bothered me more was that the press were already digging into my history. How much will they find out about my past? There were things I didn’t want anyone to know. Better yet, if they were all uncovered, what would it mean for Rocco and me?

The press would have to wait. We went inside, and I was in awe. There was a crowd ahead, dancing before a full orchestra. On stage, a woman crooned, waving her long-gloved arms around as a troop of dancers performed next to her. The wall was painted and lit with a glittery tent mural, and had velvet curtains draped along the sides. There were women dressed in old cigarette girl outfits—wearing short white skirts above the knee and pillbox hats—serving drinks to the guests in the booths and around the tables. The invitees weren’t only family, but a diverse crowd of Rocco’s friends, whom he took me around to greet on the way to the booth on the right side of the stage. An older woman with well-coiffured, ashen blonde hair and smooth, tanned skin stood to greet us.

“Finally! I’m so excited to meet you, Adelina, I’m Rocco’s mom, but you can call me Olivia.” She squeezed my waist. “I feel like I already know you from my father’s conversations about you.” I could see the familiar high cheekbones and blue eyes similar to other Marini family members.

My focus went to Mama, who was still seated at the table. Her surprised expression said it all. My friendship with Mr. Marini had been one of the things I’d kept private. Shit.

“Thank you. It’s so nice to meet you,” I said, adding delight to my tone. From her genuine warmth, I could see she was like her father. That was almost a relief.

“This night is also to celebrate your graduation. Congratulations. What a wonderful accomplishment. Welcome to our family. We’re happy to have you join us,” Olivia said, beaming. Her smile is so much like her son’s.

“Thank you, Olivia. That’s very kind of you to say, especially given our circumstances.”

At that comment, she didn’t even flinch. Surely she knew this marriage was arranged and that I was to become family in name only.

“Family is family, lovely Adelina. Don’t forget that,” she answered amiably.

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