Page 25 of Till Death Do Us Part

An hour and a half later, and with lots of primping and priming, Felicity has worked her magic. I twist my body side to side, watching the way the crimson red gown she picked clings like a second skin. The mermaid shape skims my curves, accentuating an hourglass figure I didn’t even realise I had. With the high-halter neckline, it looks demure and classic. From the back, though, the lack of material is daring and sensual.

A perfect mixture of sophistication and fearlessness.

Something I desperately need right now.

My hair is twisted into a half up-do, that runs to the middle of my back in loose waves with a few strands spilling over to frame my face. The make-up is simple, with minimal face product, and only a light dusting of black kohl around my eyes and a muted red lip.

“Thank you, Felicity,” I tell her earnestly, offering a small smile. I feel good.

Strong.

Brave.

Two things that I haven’t felt since that first night Antonio came into this room. It’s not a miracle cure by any means, but for a moment, I don’t feel like the world is caving in. I feel like me.

The foyer is a bustle of energy when I make my way down the stairs. I grip the wooden railing, keeping myself upright. The strappy black heels that Felicity pulled out of the closet for me are a few inches too high to be comfortable, and the lack of grace I have walking in them is embarrassing, to say the least.

Men stand at the bottom, chattering amongst themselves. They’re all dressed in black suits, black ties, and white shirts. The only stand-outs are Antonio in a black shirt and Leonardo who skipped the jacket, settling for black pants and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, leaving his tattooed arms on display.

My hands tremble when I reach the bottom where Antonio waits for me. He doesn’t smile, only reaches for my hand and wraps his palm around mine. This is the first time he’s touched me, outside of our wedding and when he comes into my room in the night, and I hate it.

I fight the violent shiver that travels down my spine, steeling myself and plastering a small smile on my face when he turns me to face his men. A few I recognise from that first dinner here, though if I was asked any of their names, I’ve got nothing.

None of the men make a move to talk to me or acknowledge my presence beyond a simple head nod. I smile politely at them before lowering my gaze to the ground. Antonio tightens his grip around my palm when I try to pull away, his long fingers digging into my hand to keep me in place.

“I have very important business to attend to tonight,” he addresses his men, his tone hard and unwavering. “There are to be no surprises like at the wedding. You spot a Russian, you take them out without hesitation. Understood?”

While the men agree with a chorus of “Yes, Boss,” I press my lips together to keep a grimace off my face. I get the whole sworn enemies thing, and I understand shooting first, but something just doesn’t sit right with me with his order—though I don’t know why.

Antonio continues to talk to his men, discussing security for the event, but I pay little attention. My eyes stray to the stairs, spotting Felicity at the top. She leans over the railing, a frown on her lips as she watches us. Spotting me, her lips twist into a small smile and she sends me a wink before turning on her heel and rushing out of sight.

“Let’s go.” I snap my head up at the request, my gaze locking on Antonio’s frosty eyes. He stares down at me, annoyance etched in his features. It’s only then I realise the others have left and we’re alone in the foyer. Straightening my spine, I push the fear slowly creeping up to the back of my mind. There is little I can do about these interactions with my husband, but I won’t show him my fear.

Not now.

He’s already taken too much from me, he can’t have that too.

I nod at him, tucking my black clutch under my arm and turning to face the door. He doesn’t let go of my hand, just drags me along with him out into the bitter night. Several black SUVs are lined up outside, doors open so Antonio’s men can step into them. He tugs me towards the second to last one, shoving me through the open door. I lose my footing, my head smacking into the leather with a grunt.

A deep chuckle comes from the front passenger seat. “Graceful as ever, Princess.”

Of course.

Why wouldn’t the man that Antonio has assigned as a glorified babysitter not be in the car with us? Breathing in slowly, I take my time to sit up, ignoring the watchful eyes I can feel burning holes into the side of my face.

Antonio slides in after me, slamming the door behind him. The car pulls away from the kerb as we navigate around the other cars before rolling through the open gate and slipping into the late evening traffic.

The drive is suffocating. Silence fills the car; the only noise to be heard is the rumble of the engine beneath us as we fly down the road. Anxious energy coils within me, my head aching and my hands becoming clammy as I shrink into the seat, keeping my distance from Antonio.

After thirty painful minutes, we pull up to the same casino Leonardo had brought me to that day after the alley. The day I stabbed a man. With everything else going on, I’ve barely spared a thought for the Russians that seem to be after me—a silver lining, I suppose. If only it were enough to make everything else brighter.

Leonardo steps out first, taking the lead, with Antonio following behind. Nico gives me a small smile when I thank him, nodding his head before I step out; this time careful to not trip over the step on my way.

“Much better,” Leonardo murmurs, offering me his arm. I shake him off, taking measured steps until I’m standing beside Antonio. He looks down at me for a moment, assessing me, though, for what, I don’t know. He nods, mostly to himself, before gesturing for me to join him on the red carpet laid out before us.

Cameras flash from the sides, journalists and reporters calling out Antonio’s name. I try to keep a smile on my face while avoiding looking at them head on. I’m not sure what I expected of tonight, but this wasn’t it. Though that’s not saying much since I had no idea this was happening until two hours ago.

The lobby is bursting with life. Loud chatter and excitable laughter echo through the room. Formal dresses in all colours adorn the females, and once again, the men all look the same in their black suits and tuxedos. I wonder if they need a new stylist because it must be tiresome to always look like one another.

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