Page 19 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
Sera clasps my hand and smiles sympathetically. “Come on—let’s have a walk.”
The evening drags by slowly. We stand through toast after toast dedicated to the great man that was Gianni Di Santo. We eat caviar and foie gras and drink expensive champagne (when no one’s looking) and conveniently ignore the fact people would have died so my fiancé could fund this reception.
“What’s going through your head right now?” Sera asks as we look through the terrace windows at the darkening sky.
“That I’ve never seen so many Breitling watches in one room before.”
She smirks and nudges me with her elbow.
The sound of the PA system cranking up again makes us turn toward the stage, and my heart starts beating erratically. I can only imagine I’ve been in denial up until now, because with the announcement of my engagement to Savero Di Santo imminent, I feel an instinctive need to escape.
A host’s voice booms over the speakers. “Please join me in welcoming Mr. Savero Di Santo back to the stage.”
A rousing cheer fills the room as Savero reappears. The authenticity of it repulses me. He takes the microphone and coasts his gaze across the audience. I feel suddenly faint.
“Oh God, this is it,” Sera whispers.
I grip her hand for support.
“Some may say that a funeral—especially the funeral of someone as loved and well-respected as my father—is an unconventional place to announce an engagement. But who knows when I’ll have all those closest to me together in one room again?”
“And alive ...” I mutter under my breath.
“As many of you know, my father enjoyed a successful business partnership with the Castellanos, and the port has played a fundamental role in some of our import and export operations. With Father’s passing, I believe we can only strengthen that partnership. So, not only will we be co-owners of Castellano Shipping from this day forth, but I’m also delighted to introduce my new fiancée, Trilby Castellano.”
“Holy hell,” Sera mutters under her breath.
“Smile,” Allegra says, discreetly jabbing me with her elbow.
A hundred eyes turn toward me, but there’s only one pair I can feel. My gaze is drawn to Cristiano, and the weight of his glare almost pulls me under.
I gasp for air as the room spins around me.
“Trilby ...” Sera grips my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” I manage through short, panting breaths. “Just give me a moment.”
Pull yourself together, Trilby.
I think I’m having a mild panic attack, but I can’t let it show on my face. The last thing a Mafia don needs—especially one as unhinged as Savero—is a wife who can barely stand unaided at her own engagement announcement. This marriage means everything to Papa; his entire life’s work and our family’s livelihood—hell, even ourlives— is at stake. I can’t give Savero any reason to call it off.
Up ahead, my fiancé receives slaps on the back and raised glasses. I may as well not exist for all the congratulations I receive.
On the few occasions I glance across the room with the hope of a returned smile, at least, from the vast collection of brassy blondes, I get anything but. If a look could cause a thousand cuts, I’d be bleeding out on the function-room floor.
I lock eyes with the matriarch of the female entourage—the wife of one of the capos—and regret it instantly. She sits on a floral club chair, her hair tinged yellow and voluminous, her weathered tan compressed into a too-shiny black bandeau dress. Her head is pulled back, her chin slightly raised, allowing her a view of me through lowered lids. She’s flanked on either side by two lookalikes who make a show of swiveling their bodies fully toward her and then back in my direction. They’re gossiping about me and not making any attempt to hide it.
For what it’s worth, I agree with them. I’m not the right woman for their don. But it’s not like I have any say in the matter. My heart cracks a little at the reminderI’mnot the reason he’s marrying me. The man I’m set to spend the rest of my life with only wants me because of what my father can offer him.
Sera does her best to put me at ease, but I can’t focus. “Have you eaten anything yet?” she asks.
My eyes round. “You think I can stomach food right now? I can barely stomach life.”
“It might help.” She nods encouragingly. “Just a little bite. Come on—the food is right over there. I’ll go with you.”
I huff out a tense breath. “Fine. I’ll give it my best shot.”
I follow her through crowded bodies, feeling the heaviness of judgment as people watch me pass. Just as we reach the table, Sera stops short.
