Page 38 of Mafia Boss's Fake Fiancée

“Do you see the guy anywhere?”Adriana asks as we make our way through the crowd on the dance floor.

“No.” We’ve only seen a few photos of him, but I’m pretty sure I can recognize him if I lay my eyes on him.

“What if he doesn’t show up?” Adriana narrows her eyes as she focuses on the crowd.

“I don’t think he just agreed to meet and picked this place for nothing.” People should know better than to try to toy with me.

If it turns out Ismaele is trying to trick me, I’m going to make him regret it. There won’t be a hole dark enough for him to hide once I really put all the effort into tracking him down.

I could’ve asked my men to do more to find the person who sent that message, but since it might be someone close to me or Adriana, it’s better to wait.

I don’t want anyone to realize there might be discord in my family or between Cesare and me. Treading carefully is always better than mindlessly rushing forward into the unknown.

“Then where the hell is he?” Annoyance fills Adriana’s voice.

“Let’s forget about him for a moment.” I pull her with me, wrapping my arms around her waist.

A slow song is playing, and we can forget our mission and dance for a while, before Ismaele shows up.

Adriana’s body relaxes as she winds her arms around my neck. With her body pressed against mine, it’s hard to think or see anything other than her. I stare into her eyes, then focus my gaze on her lips.

Maybe I should ask her now how she feels about me, but Ismaele could interrupt us, and I don’t want that. It’s too important of a conversation to be abruptly cut. We’ll need a calmer place, without any people around.

The music stops, and the countdown to the New Year begins. Adriana’s lips part as she watches me. Maybe we should pull away from each other, but we don’t.

The room erupts in cheers.

“Happy New Year,” I say into Adriana’s ear, and then I press my lips against hers.

I don’t remember I’ve ever wished for anything, but now I want her.

I want Adriana.

I think she wants me too, or she wouldn’t be kissing me back with so much intensity.

“Salvatore.” Adriana pulls away from me. “Is that him?”

I inwardly groan because this is so not the moment I wanted Ismaele to ruin, but I follow her gaze.

“Yep, it’s him,” I say.

It’s very obvious it’s him, even though I can’t see his face. He’s moving through the crowd with a purpose. His suit is different from the staff’s, and yet, he’s carrying an empty tray. There’s a bulge under his suit jacket. He has a gun.

Where is he going? Probably in the direction of the bar.

“Stay here,” I say to Adriana, then follow him.

His dark eyes focus on me the moment I lean on the bar next to him.

“Ismaele,” I say.

“Salvatore Carducci. You found me.” He grins.

“I did. Now tell me—”

“Not here.” He glances around. “Let’s meet outside. In the garage.”

I eye him carefully.

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