Page 62 of Dance of Deception

I take a slow breath before I shrug and glance back up at him.

“At the end of the day, she’s my mother.”

“In which case, you have my congratulations for having achieved what you have in spite of that.”

A curious smile twists my lips.

Eventually,Carmine actually does remove his hand from my hip, when he’s pulled away by Cesare Marchetti, head of the Marchetti family, and the young, more than slightly lethal-looking Nero De Luca, the young and relatively new head ofthe De Luca organization. Both these men sit with Vito Barone—well, Carmine now, I suppose—on The Commission; a sort of high council of the five most powerful Italian mafia families in the country.

Yeah, I’m not just marrying intoamafia family.

I’m marrying into one ofthemafia families.

I linger awkwardly by the bar, forcing fake smiles to my face whenever various party guests come to fawn over me, or perhaps ogle me like I’m some circus freak that doesn’t belong here.

“She’s Arkadi Ostrov’s daughter, you know.”

“Those poor girls in the basement…”

“You remember the stories in the news, don’t you?”

By the time I’ve heard the thirtieth variation ofwho I amwhispered with furtive glances behind secretive hands, I’m ready to ditch this whole thing and make a break for it, consequences be damned.

Just as I’m scanning for the nearest exit, I lock eyes with Bianca. She’s standing next to her giant of a husband, Kratos Drakos, who's wearing a tuxedo that looks like it was tailored for a mythological demi-god.

We haven’t spoken since the audition.

She hasn’t answered my calls or returned my texts. She may as well have erected steel walls between us at work.

I hate it.

I hate what she might think of me now. I hate that she must assume that I decided to cash in our friendship for a shot at her brother’s money, like some gold-digging opportunist.

For a second, as our gazes clash, it looks like she’s going to walk away. But then Kratos leans down, putting his large hand on the small of her back and murmuring in her ear. He nods his chin in my direction before he kisses the top of her head and moves off into the crowd.

Bianca looks back at me, takes a deep breath, and then starts to walk over.

My stomach tightens as she comes to a stop in front of me, a caged expression on her face.

I force a small smile. “Bianca?—”

“You didn’t tell me,” she interrupts, her voice cold. “I just thought…I mean, we’re friends… You sort of blindsided me with this.”

My throat goes tight.

“I—” I shake my head, words failing. “I didn’t think I'd go through with it.”

Her brow furrows.

I exhale sharply, barreling forward.

“I needed the money,” I admit, my voice low. “It was urgent, and I felt desperate.”

She frowns in concern, sucking her lower lip between her teeth and stepping closer to me.

“Lyra, you could’ve just…”

Her mouth twists before she can finish that sentence.

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