Page 18 of Where Dark Hearts Devour
His gaze does a circuit of the room and lands on our little group—more specifically, on Tess. She’s dressed in her usual signature black but has somehow managed to find a way to make respectable look debauched. She’s wearing a long black maxi dress that clings to her like a second skin. One bare leg shows through a long slit up the side, and the leather straps of her gladiator stilettos wind up to her knee like a vine. Still, I cough and draw her attention my way. I don’t like how he’s looking at her—like she’d make a decent meal.
“Not rude ...” Sera comes to my defense, drawing my attention from Benny’s perusal of our younger sister. “Important.Tril’s about to marry the most powerful man in the city. What do you expect?”
I squeeze Sera’s hand.
Tess leans in until her breath whispers across my cheek. “Who’s the broody guy by his side?”
I locate Savero and pan to his right. My pulse quickens at the insidious sense of shame. “That’s his brother, Cristiano.”
“Wow. Even with that dirty scowl, he’s the hottest guy in the room.”
“From the little I’ve seen of him, he’s a grumpy asshole,” I say, hoping that concludes the topic.
I should know my sister better than that.
“Grumpy andgorgeous. He could tell me to go to hell and I’d look forward to the trip.”
His eyes lift and lock with mine, instantly quieting everything around me. Tess is still speaking, but I don’t hear her. I can’t tell from this distance if he’s angry, irritated, or simply disappointed by the knowledge I’ll soon be his sister-in-law. I tear my gaze away. I wish he’d do the same, but the side of my face glows hot, and somehow I know he’s still staring at me from across the room.
I turn my attention back to Tess. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Do you know if he’s single?”
I inhale sharply. “I literally just met him, Tess. I have no idea.”
She jerks slightly. “All right, all right. No need to bite my head off.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, feeling suddenly guilty and transparent. “I didn’t mean to snap.”
She sighs and seems to notice my discomfort for the first time today. “It’s okay. It’s all pretty surreal, being in a room with all these armed men. It’s making me feel nervous, and I’m not even marrying one of them. Here—maybe this will help.”
She pushes a flute of champagne into my hand then touches it with hers. It makes a ting that sounds decadent and everything this afternoon isn’t. I go for a sip but suck in half the glass, hoping to fill the sudden hole in my chest.
“Easy, tiger,” Sera whispers. “Don’t let the family see ...”
I take another sip. The champagne is delicious. Light, fresh, just dry enough. It softens the tautness in my temples. “Which one?”
Her brows knit together.
I clarify. “His, ours, or the firm?”
She looks across the room. “Isn’t the firm his family? They all seem to be from the same Sicilian stock. Slick black hair, oily skin, same wardrobes, by the looks of it ...”
I snicker into my flute. “Right?”
Her head tilts to one side, and her eyes narrow. “The women though ...”
I look up sharply. “What about them?”
Sera covers her lips with her flute and lowers her voice. “They seem to be from a different stock altogether.”
I train my focus on her despite the urge to look at what she’s seeing. “What do you mean?” I hadn’t even stopped to consider there might be other women in Savero’s life, but of course there are.
“They’re either all of Scandinavian blood or they’ve paid a truckload of money to look like they are.”
I turn enough of a fraction to be in wholehearted agreement. The entire far corner is filled with blonde blow-dries, inflatable busts, and hemlines that showed a little too much skin for a funeral.
“Forget marrying the don,” I mutter. “Those women look even more frightening.”
