Page 97 of Made to Sin

I shook my head. “I didn’t dress up for nothing.”

If I spent all that time getting ready, I was going to show it off. I refused to let it be another lingerie moment where nobody got to admire the piece before it turned into shreds. The longer we stayed in this room, the more my dress was in danger.

He shrugged. “It’s not for nothing if I make it pleasurable when I rip it off you, sweetheart.”

I gave him an unamused look. “Luciano.”

“Fine,” he said with a devious look on his face and held out his arm.

I didn’t want to know what he was thinking, but I had an inkling he was going to go through with the plan sooner or later. As long as my efforts were appreciated for more than ten minutes this time, it was fine with me.

Looping my arms through his, I let him whisk me into the night like every bit the gentleman he looked.

Yet my mistake was thinking the devil could change face simply by changing his appearance.

THEROOMWASFILLEDWITHMade Men in every corner. From the Bartolos to the Morettis, nobody was short of attendance. Either theCosa Nostrareally supported the cause or, more likely, they were looking for selfish gains.

My hands grew clammy, and my breath fastened when I realized not only did I have to deal with the Benevetis judging me, I had to impress the Underworld in its entirety.

The mob wives were going to rip me to shreds.

I promptly removed my arm from Luciano’s, whispering into his side. “Why are all the families here?”

He didn’t tear his gaze from the crowd. “After Marco’s death, the other bosses want to build alliances. Since they’re all too on edge to host anything on their land, they leech in on galas.”

I nodded at his explanation, not understanding a word of the corrupted politics besides greed. “Okay, well, you have fun with that. I’ll be by the bar.”

Before I could run off, he wrapped a firm arm around my waist. “Not so fast.”

“What?”

He didn’t buy my coyness, finally looking at my face and pressing me closer to him. “You’re here with me, sweetheart, and everyoneis going to know it.”

I wanted to argue that was what I was afraid of, but we were already walking toward the main table.

The other dons widened their eyes, and their wives hung their mouths open. Jeez, they couldn’t even try to hide the shock?

For the sake of being charitable, I gave them an award-winning smile. “It’s a pleasant surprise to see you all,” I said as Luciano pulled out my chair.

“We could say the same,” Carlo Moretti’s wife, Laura, replied for the group, her lips pressing into a firm line. “Didn’t dear Marco pass a month or two ago? Kids sure find love fast these days.”

I purposefully ignored the catty part of her sentence and smiled. “Yes, Marco passed in July.”

“I see you took the chance to get cozy with his business partner instead. Careful there, that might start some rumors that Luciano did something to our dear Marco.”

I held in the scowl, smiling to try and kill her with kindness. “We all know that would be absurd. Luciano is smarter than to risk a war for a girl like me.”

“You talk like you know who did it.”

I lifted my smile until it hurt. “Whoever murdered my husband is no longer my concern. I grieved as a widow, and I’d moved on. Thank you for worrying.”

“I thought the Made Men were the cold ones around here, but it only took you months to heal from death.”

The other wives snickered at the snarky joke, while the men pretended to not notice the conversation floating between us women. Drug deals and trade routes littered the table talk, but it was obvious which subject dominated.

Laura’s statement wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t correct either. She was right that death wasn’t something that healed overnight or even through months. Death tore hearts apart and left scars. Mamma’s death would haunt me until I, too, was on my deathbed.

But since we were talking about someone I practically had no connection with unless it was to be beaten black and blue, I couldn’t care less. Marco was more useful to me dead than alive anyway.

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