Page 131 of Scorned Beauty
“Oh no, oh no.” Bianca invaded my space and gripped my shoulders. “Look at me.”
I did.
“Repeat after me.”
I exhaled heavily.
“I am beautiful,” she said.
“I am beautiful.”
“I am deserving.”
“I am deserving.”
“And anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck off.”
Bianca was a tornado in a small package. Her sweetness was so deceiving because she packed a spine of steel.
I had to suppress a laugh when I said, “And anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck off.”
She gave me a light shake. “Be serious.”
“They can fuck off.” I shrugged with sass.
“That’s my girl, but rein in the gangsta at the ball.”
“Why?” I repeated. “The Zahkarovs are gangsters despite their elegant trappings.” I was getting worked up. I wasn’t sure how much the girls knew about the purpose of why Lucy and I were going to the gala. Dom knew. He didn’t question it when I told him he was escorting me to the event. But I’d caught him eyeing Lucy pensively. His hands were tied and I knew he was reining in his big-brother tendencies.
There were many things to discuss, but we needed to survive the gala first.
“True.”
The explosion of hearts on the phone ignited a light in the dark corners of my soul. I’d never had a girl gang like this. There was always a sense of competition that made me uncomfortable. But there was a common quality I found in my current girls. They were empowered by the men in their lives. Self-esteem played a vital part in the willingness to let another woman wear the crown. Bianca was an example. She single-handedly straightened out the misogyny in the Rossi-crime-family culture, with Sandro backing her up. If ever Dom and I didn’t work out, I was sure I could join their crime family if I were so inclined. The more I thought about the opportunity they were proposing about Delphine, the more I couldn’t wait to get started on the project.
“Are you ready to face Dom?” Bianca asked.
“I guess.” I stuffed my phone in the matching sequined pouch, gathered my skirts, and followed Bianca out of the room.
“Don’t descend the steps yet,” she threw over her shoulder. “I want to take a video of you coming down.”
When I reached the top of the staircase, Dom was already waiting at the bottom of it. I’d seen him in tuxes before from online news sites and I’d seen him at Bianca’s wedding. But this white-tie event was more formal.
Dom’s thick raven hair was tamed and slicked back and only accentuated the masterpiece of his clean-shaven face, sculpted of strong angles, firm, defined lips, and thick brows over smoldering eyes that were at the moment singeing holes through my dress.
My knees weakened, and I clung to the top banister. Maybe I should have eaten more food because I’d grown lightheaded.
“Do you want me to come get you?” Dom asked, voice low. “Because I can’t promise I won’t carry you straight to the bedroom.”
My gaze swept frantically to Bianca. She was shaking with laughter. “Stop that, cuz. I’m trying to find a soundtrack to play.”
I must have imagined a growl coming from Dom.
“Ugh, fine,” Bianca muttered. “You can make your way down now.”
My focus returned to Dom as I took that first tentative step, but like the morning tide, he reeled me in. The bespoke tailoring of his suit did nothing to cloak the animal magnetism writhing inside him.
When I reached the bottom of the steps, Dom invaded my space and lowered his head by my ear. “Fucking hell, baby. I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep my hands off you all night.” He leaned back. “You wanna just ditch the ball?”
