Page 14 of Gorgeous Prince

I toss my bag onto the entryway bench and trek up the stairs to my bedroom. The second time I check a window, Benny’s SUV is gone.

CHAPTERFOUR

BENNY

Twenty-Eight Years Old

Three Months before the Wedding

These events are a joke.

But since my father avoids crowds like the plague, I was ordered to mingle with these motherfuckers at the twentieth annual mayor’s charity gala. All the proceeds go to some organization that I’m sure half of these people don’t give two fucks about.

It’s comical really.

Mobsters invited to political galas.

But if you dig deep, you’ll realize we’re not that dissimilar to politicians. They just do a better job at pretending to have good hearts.

I prefer to be the villain.

This event isn’t about charity or bringing awareness. It’s revolved around self-interest and making connections.

My younger sister, Gigi, is my plus-one for the night. She always is when she’s in town. When I told her about tonight, she jumped out of bed and then scolded me for not giving her enough time to get ready.

Hell, my father had just told me this morning.

He’d forgotten about the invite.

Gigi loops her arm around mine as we drift down the wide staircase into the ballroom. A crystal chandelier hangs from the vaulted ceiling, and a full orchestra plays classical music in the corner. Guests have migrated into small circles, having conversations in suits and diamonds, which probably cost more than the average household income.

“How long do I get before you insist we leave?” Gigi asks.

My sister loves socializing.

She and I had two very different upbringings.

As they grew up, Mafia children’s lives tended to be miserable and sheltered. My mother didn’t want that for Gigi. Instead of being homeschooled or attending public schools, Gigi attended Fenimore Preparatory School. She’s traveled the world with family and her bodyguard. Although I think my father prefers her out of the country. It’s safer that way.

Me? Fun was never in my curriculum. My father taught me this business at a young age so I’d be prepared to take over at any given time. Not that I had a problem with it. Attending private school with a bunch of rich pricks sounded like a fucking nightmare.

“An hour,” I reply and rub a hand over my brow. “Max.”

“That’s longer than I bet Natalia,” she chirps. “My guess was twenty minutes.”

“You spent three hours getting ready for an event you thought you’d only spend twenty minutes at?”

She eagerly nods. “Getting all dressed up is the fun part.” She releases me to twirl in her flowing red dress. “Plus, I got to buy a new gown.”

I shake my head. “You and shopping.”

“Are besties,” she says as if finishing the sentence for me.

I hold my arm out for her again, and we stroll through the ballroom. People nod at us, shake our hands, and make casual conversation. No one talks business in front of Gigi. Instead, men hand me their business cards and ask me to call them.

I only nod and pretend to care.

Half of these people are already on the Marchetti payroll.

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