Page 82 of Guarded

Pulling me into him effortlessly, he presses his lips to mine. He pauses there, waiting for the flashing lights to go off around us before releasing me. Light eyes glisten as he stares into my softened one.

Together, we fool the world around us. We fool them all. I can’t fool myself, though. Not when inside I feel entirely dead to his touch. I don’t turn around to check, but I know if I did, I would find death-cold eyes staring back at me.

I never imaginedanyone would surpass my Tia Ponciana on my list of the most intolerable women I have ever met, but tonight’s a first for everything.

Paola Cuevas, my future mother-in-law, officially held the winning title. Her frequent remarks made scratches on a chalkboard sound like a soothing lullaby. From the moment Preston walked me to the table, her judgment was locked and loaded.

“Did you not like the dress I picked for you?”

“The blondes a bit trashy. I like a more natural look.”

“You look a little underweight. You’ll need to eat up so you can get pregnant right away.”

Is fuck off an emotion? Cause I feel that it should be.

On and on, Paola goes.

Swirling her wine around in her glass as her commentaries rave on.

My mother looks uncomfortable, but Adriana Reyes would rather keep the peace than advocate for me. She could at least make an effort to change the subject.

Which she does only when Paola and her agree on how easy it is to raise sons. My mother’s eyes light up, and she jumps at the opportunity to brag about Axel.

This is my least favorite subject, but beggars can’t be choosers.

I swirl my wine in the glass the way I had seen Paola do and look down the table where my father is laughing with Preston and his younger brother, Lionel. I smile at my dad when he catches me watching. I’d do anything for my dad.

All those times, he put me on a pedestal and told me how great I was. I trust that he makes every decision with my best interest in mind, including this one.

A persistent pang in my stomach tells me to look behind me. I know Nero is standing with his hands clasped in front of him like the other guards in the restaurant. I keep my eyes forward. Looking over the table, I can see a range of powerful families. Some I recognize, and others I don’t. Different languages flow in the atmosphere. I look to see if I can spot the Biondini brothers, but I come up short.

Servers come by with appetizers, and my eyes widen with delight when I see all the food. Arancini, Polenta Crostini with tuna, and Bruschetta. I’m on my second Arancini when the lights go up, and the music around us lowers.

“Welcome to Verdis. We are honored to have you on our opening night. My name is Cesidio Verde Biondini. I want to thank you personally for joining me today. This restaurant has been a dream of mine since the day I learned to cook. The Italian population in Texas is underappreciated, but I hope that with my family’s return, we can find resourceful friends within this community.”

There’s a round of applause, and I keep my eyes glued to Cesidio as he walks off the stage. Preston excuses himself from the table, and I see a way for me to escape. I remove myself from the table, keeping my eyes on Preston when Nero approaches me.

“I need to talk to Preston.” I lie, putting my hand up.

This was my only opportunity to help Genesis. I walk past Nero but don’t miss the scowl on his face. I pretend to followPreston while keeping my eyes on Cesidio. Preston makes his way to the second dining room, and I split, turning into a dark hallway.

A hand closes over my mouth. I’m pulled backward, hitting a hard chest. An uneasy feeling floods my body.

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you following me?” a deep voice says.

I don’t move or fight. I put my hands in the air, surrendering to the voice behind me. He removes his hand and pushes a gun to my back, leading me into a large office.

“I have a message from my friend,” I say breathlessly, holding my hands up in front of me.

“What friend?” he says, his eyes narrowing on me.

His dark green eyes zoom in on me, reading my expression. There’s only an emotionless one on his as he stares down at me, the gun still pointed at me. There’s no doubt in my mind he will kill me. I quickly reach a shaky hand into my bra, grabbing the note.

“Her name is Genesis. Genesis Fernandez, I think you might have been the one to save us.” He reaches out and takes the paper.

“You’re Ariella Reyes?” He says, dropping the gun.

“Yes. Nice to meet you,” I say, offering a genuine smile to the man who wanted to shoot me three seconds ago.

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