Page 24 of Playing the Sicilian's Game of Revenge

“Come, let’s dance,” she suggested. When he raised an eyebrow at her, she shrugged. “You can’t spend the rest of the gala glaring at him or people will talk in a way you do not want. Yet. Come.” This time she took his arm and tugged him forward to the dance floor, where a nice slow song was playing.

He did not precisely wipe the glare off his face, but when he pulled her into his arms for a dance, some of that grimness faded. And then they danced. Easily and in time, like they were perfectly matched to do just this.

Part of her wanted to lean her head against his chest and just...give in. Allow his pretend. She could love him and he could not love her and would it really be so bad?

She thought of her mother toward the end of her life. Ragged, used, lost. All because she’d loved a man who wouldn’t love her back. Saverina didn’t think she was that weak. She could go into this knowing Teo’s limitations.

Then again, the hope of his someday understanding love might eventually kill her.

“Perhaps we should make an early exit,” she said, because it turned out pretending to be who she wanted to be on the outside, while knowing she couldn’t be on the inside, was exhausting. And Teo kept looking at Dante when he should ignore the man all together.

“To be chased away by him?”

“So people might talk about why we left early and together after slow dancing, Teo.” She looked up at him, trying to get through that vibrating anger. “Your plan, remember?”

The plan. Never before had Teo wanted to damn the plan. Stride across the room and strike the man. This was why he steered clear of spaces Dante was in. His fury overrode all attempts at control. Being in proximity to the man who’d harmed his mother, who’d threatened to crush him if he revealed his parentage always threatened to undermine the plan in a blatant explosion.

If Teo thought that would be satisfying in the long run, he’d give in to it. But Dante would twist it. Teo would likely end up in jail for assault, and Teo would never have his revenge.

So, yes, the plan was essential. “Very well,” he muttered. “We will make a hasty exit. Keep your hand in mine.”

He half expected her to argue, but she’d been surprisingly obedient—a word she’d no doubt hate to be used on her—this evening. She smiled, she touched, she danced. It was an act. He could see that by the shadows that lingered in her eyes. But it was a good act. Only someone who knew her would notice those shadows.

He did not interrogate why he did.

They left the dance floor hand in hand, and Teo headed for the door, but he made a slight detour. He steered Saverina right toward Dante. Not for a confrontation, no. In fact, he turned his head away from Dante and pretended to nod at a colleague on the opposite side of the room as he moved Saverina farther toward the door.

“Is he looking?” Teo asked under his breath.

“Oh, yes.”

“Good.” It was good. Dante had to know who Saverina was by sight, and if he did not, surely someone would inform him. From there, Dante would begin to wonder. He would begin to worry. The son he wanted to crush. The sister of the business rival he hated. If Dante did not start seeing him as a threat now, he would be a stupid man.

Teo thought many unflattering things about Dante Marino, but he did not think the man stupid.

Teo escorted Saverina to their waiting limo. Once inside, she watched the city pass by as the vehicle headed for her house. Teo was too lost in his own plans and machinations to worry about conversation, but about halfway through the drive, she turned to him.

“When did you find out about Dante possibly being your father?”

Since it brought back unwanted memories of his mother’s deathbed, he hedged. “Why do you ask me this?”

“Humor me.”

He did not need to humor her, but he found himself giving in anyway. “Almost two years ago. Mamma informed me of my biological father’s name with her last breath.” He could have left that detail out. He did not want her pity, but he also wanted her to understand that his revenge would always come first.

For his mother.

She was quiet for a long moment. He could see her only in the way lights flashed through the window as they passed other cars and streetlights. He knew she looked at him, and he was more than happy to find himself mostly shrouded in the dark.

“How did you find out the rest, then?” she asked quietly. “About him threatening her, and what you told me the other night?”

“Careful research and study. Putting together stories from speaking to her family, from what I dug up on Dante, and so forth. I tracked down an old employee of the Marino household who had known my mother, and she filled in the remaining gaps. She had no love lost for Dante.”

Another silence stretched out between them, and he assumed that would be that. Assumed it so much he refused to say anything else. He would not tell her what the past two years had been like.

But he wanted to. All those words on the tip of his tongue. It was a twisted desire in him. So Saverina would see. So she would understand.

He did not need any of these things from her, no matter what his traitorous heart whispered. All he needed from her was what they’d agreed upon.

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