Page 7 of Savage Beauty

He laughs. “No, I hired it. You insisted I was lying, though. Anything else?”

“Some bullshit about controlling the fountains at the Bellagio with a special button. You honestly thought I’d fall for that?”

Sasha shoots me a scathing look. “Josie. That cost me two hundred and fifty thousand. Only for you to choose James fucking Blunt as the soundtrack to your festive custom water show.”

I clap my hand over my mouth, mortified. “You’re kidding. Why did you do all those things? You could have said no!”

“To you?” Sasha shakes his head as he pulls out onto the highway. “Not if I can help it.”

5

Sasha

The house is quiet when we arrive, thankfully. I need to tuck Josie away and appraise Vlad of the monumental fuck-up I’ve committed. I know he will be furious, but he won’t be the only one, and I can only face one reckoning at a time.

I can’t just blame this on being drunk. It’s partly true, but those who know me well are aware that I’m impulsive even when stone-cold sober. Last night, I was acutely aware of my actions, even if Josie wasn’t. It’s just another glaring reminder that money can buy about anything.

We reach the door, and I stop and turn to her. “Listen,” I say. “Things are gonna get awkward real fast in there.”

“Why? You leave the gas on or something?”

“It’s a bit more serious than that.” I put my key in the lock. “I may have made certain promises to people that I won’t be able to keep. This is gonna stir up a real hornet’s nest, and I’m not sure how bad it’ll get. Just consider yourself forewarned.”

“This has nothing to do with me!”

“Well, actually—”

I push open the door.

“Surprise!”

The room is packed with people. A confetti bomb fires a plume of tiny foil squares into the air, and a massive banner proudly stretches across the room, proclaiming, ‘Congratulations to Sasha and Claudia.’

Ohfuck.

The cheers and applause die down fast. I scan the crowd, my eyes locking onto Vlad’s knowing gaze. He’s already figured it out. None of the guests know me as well as he does, so they exchange baffled glances.

I spot Sal Tosca, Claudia’s father and the Don of a prominent Italian mafia family. Until ten seconds ago, he was under the impression I would marry his daughter.

Because that’s exactly what I promised.

Morgana appears through the crowd, cradling her belly. She’s well into her third trimester and glowing, but her eyes are wild right now. She snatches Josie’s hand and leads her into the back lounge, closing the door.

Vlad claps his hands, making everyone jump. “Get the music going,” he says. “I’ll get more booze.”

A speaker crackles to life somewhere, and the party resumes, but the air is thick with tension. Sal Tosca, with fire in his eyes, is making a beeline straight for me, but Arman intercepts him. I hear Vlad’s voice behind me.

“Wine cellar,brat.Now.”

* * *

“What the fuck do you mean, you got married?” Vlad says. “And to Josie? She was meant to have a wedding, but not to you.”

It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. All it took was some clever maneuvering to get Josie to the chapel, and once I’d greased the officiant’s palm, there was no turning back. She was going to marry me, whether she liked it or not. And she most certainly didn’t like it.

I tried to ignore her quiet sobs beside me as I gripped her wrist with an iron resolve. My mind was consumed by the thought of her standing at the altar with that scumbag Bonneville, and I swore I’d never let any other man near my Josie again.

Before I left for Vegas, I had been wallowing in self-pity, haunted by the dreadful news of Josie’s impending marriage. That’s when Vlad informed me that Sal Tosca wanted to offer his daughter to me. It wasn’t a surprise—Claudia Tosca and I had a brief fling, and she didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to be tied down, especially not to some clingy girl who mistook a few dates for true love. I was so spooked by her that I didn’t even take her to bed, which was unprecedented.

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