Page 35 of Risky Vows

I sip my Champagne,watching over the garden's lush greenery as the party slowly dies down. Even at night, with the special lighting, it feels like I'm in a whimsical place, not outside Chicago. My father-in-law’s landscaper chose the best plants to withstand the weather, and while it's not winter yet, I'm sure it'll still look pretty when the snow comes.

I inhale. I'll be here when it snows. I'll visit when it snows.

I tap the flute in my hand. Massimo went to say goodbye to his brothers.

We shared a delicious dinner, and he decided it was time for us to go home.

The domesticity of it all still surprises me. Besides my brother, I never felt that warm affection with my family. But with his, I know they all care for one another. Even his dad, Aldo, who is more aloof, mainly due to that generational gap, seems to love his sons.

They may be in the mafia and involved in dealings that would shock most people, but they take care of one another.

For the first time, I belong. If I think about it, I had doubts about belonging even when I ran away with James. I always loved and trusted him, but part of me wondered if I belonged with him in a different state, always afraid someone would find me. Fearing we’d have that happiness stripped from us.

I drain the rest of the dry, crisp bubbly.

"Amara?" a woman asks, walking up to me.

I look at her, trying to place her. She wears a blue dress that brings out her blue eyes. Oh. She's the main performer of the burlesque show. "Yes."

She shortens the gap between us and stands a few feet from me. Even though she’s petite, with me sitting and her standing, she somehow looks taller and even more toned. "I never congratulated you on your wedding."

"Thank you. I'm sorry I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Daphne."

The name suits her. She has that classy beauty. "Nice to meet you. Your show was great. Are you a friend of the family?"

A smile pulls at the corner of her red lips. "I was a good friend of your husband's."

The easy energy evaporates, and tension balloons inside me.

She eyes me with interest, and I can see the same analytical warfare my mom often submits me to in her stance. The judgy vibe with a not-so-subtle hint of superiority. Daphne isn’t here to make friends. Icicles form in my throat, and I clear it a couple of times as she stares at me in silence.

I straighten my shoulders and don't shy away from her scrutinizing. I know showing weakness will only make her stronger. "How interesting. Because I never heard of a Daphne. You and Massimo mustn't have been very close."

"Oh, we were very close," she says in a voice filled with double entendre.

But I don't bite. Instead, I surge to my feet and stretch to my full height before her. "Then your wedding invitation must have gotten lost in the mail," I say, internally thanking my mom for the first time for her always being so bitchy to me. At least that’s something I learned.

"I didn't need an invite… I was giving the groom special treatment as he got ready."

"Then, my dear, you did a piss-poor job. He was ravenous after our wedding. But nice effort." I tap her shoulder and move out of the way.

The female empowerment dissolves as I walk away from her, focusing on every step so I won't let my nerves get the best of me and lose balance. She's the one he fucked before we got married… and he hired her to come dance tonight.

What the fuck? A growing rage balloons inside me, and I debate on turning back around and giving her a piece of my mind.No,I tell myself. I can’t give her what she wants or make a scandal. My disappointment in Massimo stabs at me. He told me he had sex with a woman right before our marriage. Why didn’t he tell me he’d hire the same woman to perform?

I see Massimo walking up to me, and even though tears well up, I make a superhuman effort not to let them out.

"Hey. What happened?" he asks, looking over my shoulder. "What did she say?"

"Why don't you go over and ask?” I reply, frustrated. “Since you're such good friends that you hooked her up with this gig so she could salivate over you in front of a whole crowd while I knew nothing?"

"I didn't know. I hired someone else. She wasn't meant to be here."

“How convenient.” I shake my head slowly.

Massimo erases the distance between us, hooking his finger under my chin and lifting my gaze to his. His expression is deadserious as he stares into my eyes. “I mean it. I have no reason to lie, Amara. I’d never hurt you like that. What would I get from it?”

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