Page 170 of Heartless Mafia Prince

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

MELANIE

I MARVELED AT THE FANCYwhite pillars as I gulped down my first glass of champagne.

The crystal China glimmered on top of the gold tablecloths throughout. This event was certainly for the rich.

My bodyguard Ercole stood in the corner brooding behind his dark sunglasses. He was against me attending the engagement party. Luciano would flip the second he laid eyes on me. The tiny red dress clinging to my curves like saran wrap could calm the soon to be Mob Boss. I knew what Luciano liked, and he’d want to fuck me once he drank me in.

A couple and two women sat at my table in the back corner. Not sure why they sat with me. They could’ve sat anywhere. They were in for some interesting commentary.

A heavy-set man waved to the guests as he stepped to the microphone near the stage.

“Thank you all for coming to our daughter Rosetta’s engagement party this evening. My wife and I are excited. Her big day is just around the corner.”

Clapping erupted around the room.

Agatino approached Otello. His tall, stocky frame was intimidating. He gave off a different vibe than Otello. The whispering around the room told me he was the most feared. The men exchanged words and shook hands. Eloisa spoke to Rosetta’s mother before Agatino stepped in front of the microphone.

A wild, wicked smile swept across his lips.

“Good evening all, my wife, Eloisa and I would like to thank you on behalf of our son Luciano and his beautiful fiancé Rosetta. Enjoy yourselves.”

The guests stood, clapping. I peeked over my shoulder at Ercole. He gestured for me to get up and follow suit. I rose and clapped along with everyone else.

A man and woman walked hand in hand toward the front of the room. They turned and faced the crowd. My bottom lip hit the floor. It was my Luciano and that bitch. I saw her photo in the newspaper a few weeks ago. She looked better in person. Her white, knee length lace dress hugged her slender figure. The black heels defined her calves. Her mousy brown hair was pinned in a bun on the back of her head. I had to give it to Rosetta. Her makeup was stellar. The sharp crimson lipstick fit Cruella’s face. Her big gray eyes sparkled against her tanned skin. She had to be about five-five in height. Two inches shorter than me. She wrapped Luciano’s arm around her waist. I dropped my hands at my sides, curling my fists. I narrowed my eyes at the spectacle playing out. I felt my blood blazing under my skin.

“Remember what I said,” Ercole whispered in my ear. “We’ll leave the second you have a fit. This is an act. Don’t fuck this up for the boss.”

Luciano and Rosetta waved at the crowd. Agatino whispered in his son’s ear. Luciano nodded. Clutching Rosetta’s hand, Luciano approached the microphone.

“Good evening. My beautiful fiancé and I would like to thank you all for coming. I hope you’ll join us on our wedding day February eighteenth. Enjoy the festivities.”

The crowd erupted again.

“Aren’t they a beautiful couple?” the woman wearing an ungodly amount of makeup asked everyone at our table.

The fake smile I wore was sure to crack at any second.

We took our seats. Those at my table huddled together, oohing and awing about the beautiful couple. Their adoration for Luciano and Rosetta made me feel sick to my stomach.

He belonged to me, not her. Thoughts of him feasting on my pussy last night and again this morning gave me some satisfaction.

The live band played a soft ballot. Luciano pulled Rosetta to the center of the dance floor. He was all smiles. They chatted while they swayed to the beat. What could they possibly have to talk about?

A woman on the sidelines ushered guests on to the floor to join the couple. I noticed Luciano’s smile faded just a bit. My heart eased. I couldn’t believe any of this was true.

It’s all an act, Melanie.

Luciano slept with me every night. We were happy. I couldn’t see my life without him.

He whisked me away to New York and Milan. We dined at the most exquisite restaurants. Those times away helped me forget about his duty to his family.

I flagged down the waiter and swiped another glass of champagne off the tray.

“Dinner will be served soon,” he assured.

Maybe he wanted me to have a little food with my alcohol. He wasn’t wrong. I was feeling the bubbly.

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