As the sister—and only family—of the future groom, Isabella stands in the front row, closest to the stage.
One snake to another, Giancarlo smiles at his future son-in-law. “Alessandro, we appreciate the joy you bring to our darling Adriana. We trust that you will care for our daughter every day for the rest of your lives.”
Fury, with its icy-hot burn, turns sluggish in my veins.
Because of Alessandro’s recklessness almost ten years ago, my sister is in her grave. Only a few snapshots and her memory remain.
Giancarlo has continued to drone, and the words penetrate the fog in my brain.
“Adriana, our precious daughter…” As he glances at her, his voice cracks a little in a way I’m certain is manufactured. “May your journey be filled with love and laughter.”
Love and laughter.I sneer. Two things my little sister was denied.
Giancarlo reaches for his wife’s hand. “Elana and I have enjoyed many years of happiness, and tonight we wish nothing but the best for the two of you.”
Alessandro draws his fiancée close.
With silent efficiency, the banquet staff moves through the crowd, offering glasses for the upcoming toast. When approached, I shake my head.
My celebration will happen a little later, and it will be all the sweeter for the wait.
Once everyone is ready, Giancarlo speaks again. “Friends, family, colleagues…will you join Elana and me in wishing the future Mr. and Mrs. Calabrese many blessings?”
Giancarlo hands over the mic and accepts the glass his wife offers.“Salute!”he calls out.
Isabella raises her glass.
I imagine her soft, heartfelt congratulations as everyone returns the cheer and clinks their glasses.
For those in the room, it’s a happy occasion.
Even for me.
Especiallyfor me.
For the first time in months—or is it years?—I smile.
The foursome makes their way from the stage while the emcee announces the band that shortly will be replacing the quartet.
After a second sip of my whiskey, I place my unfinished glass on a nearby tray.
Isabella is hugging her future sister-in-law. Then her brother.
For a moment, anger swims like a haze in my brain. Then I flex my hands at my sides and focus on my end goal.
I need to be calculating.
After all, revenge is a dish best served cold.
Tonight that’s the only thing on my menu.
The moment Alessandro releases my future wife, I act. She’s currently alone, separated from the protection of her brother and friends.
My prey. My salvation.
Sergio, my bodyguard, falls in step a few feet behind me as I wend my way through the ballroom. Tables are being moved aside to make room for dancing, and people are queued in front of the bars.
Intent on my target, I exchange nods with a few business associates, but I don’t stop to talk.