Page 5 of Savage Betrayal

“Tell me, Tia, what brings you here tonight?” my gorgeous guide asks, his hazel gaze probing.

My nerves come to life once again as I sense an undercurrent to his question. Even so, I can’t stop the thrill that races through me at the sound of my name on his lips. “Oh, you know, the same reasons everyone goes to parties like these.”

“Which is?”

“For fun?” I suggest, my answers coming out as questions as my confidence plummets.

“What kind of fun?” he asks, his eyes mesmerizing in their intensity.

I shrug, attempting to release some of the tension from my shoulders with the nonchalant gesture. “To meet new people and see new things. Am I supposed to be searching for another kind?” My stomach knots as I recall the conversation those three girls were having near the front door. About capturing a certain Moretti’s attention and maybe even getting him to take them to bed.

“Forgive me if I might sound suspicious, but it’s not every night that a daughter of Don Guerra comes strolling through my door.”

My heart slams against my ribcage as I realize just how deep I might have stepped in it. “Y-You know who I am?”

“It’s my job to know everyone coming and going from this house, and you, Tia, have piqued my interest. Are you here to spy on me? Did your father send you?”

“No, I—I didn’t—I mean, he didn’t…” I flounder, once again lost for words as my mind quickly translates the full meaning of his words. Then it hits me. “Spy on you?”

Shit. This must be Leonardo Moretti. I am such an idiot.

But even as the fact stares me in the face, I can hardly believe that the man in front of me is the one who’s gotten so far under my father’s skin. He doesn’t come across as the dangerous and brutal criminal my parents have made him out to be. He can’t be…

“You’re Leonardo Moretti,” I breathe.

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to.

My eyes drop as I realize there’s no way out of this but to tell the truth and pray I haven’t made a massive mistake by disobeying my father. Because, as of right now, I’m entirely at the mercy of the Moretti heir. My only chance of survival is honesty and a prayer that he’ll believe me.

“I snuck out,” I confess, heat radiating from my cheeks as I study the glass clasped in my hands. “My father would kill me if he knew I was here. But I just… I want to live my life.”

I press my lips closed to stop the rush of words that threaten to spill from me in a flood. And I glance tentatively up through my eyelashes, feeling I’ve said too much.

But Leo’s gaze softens, growing sympathetic even, then a hint of humor glints in his striking eyes. “So, you’re not here to kill me, then?” he jokes, his disarming smile returning in full force.

Heat races through my veins as an electric energy crackles between us. “And take that honor from my father? He would never forgive me.” The smartass comment is out of my mouth before I have time to think through how wise it might be.

But before I have time to panic, he releases a low, sexy chuckle.

“May I ask you something, Leonardo?”

“Only if you’ll call me Leo.”

Heat creeps into my cheeks at his request. “Leo.” I test it out and find the name suits him better somehow. “How old are you?”

It feels like a juvenile question, but he’s not what I would expect of a man capable of tearing apart the town of Piovosa and dismantling generations of family wealth and power in five short years.

The humor in his eyes intensifies, but he doesn’t challenge my question. “Twenty-five.”

“Nooo.” The uncouth word slips from my mouth before I can stop it, and I clap my hand over my lips.

“You don’t believe me?” he asks, another chuckle rumbling from his chest.

“I mean… I have no reason not to believe you. It’s just…” From what I’ve heard about Leo’s conquests, I can hardly believe he’s that young. Since he took the reins of the Moretti family, he’s expanded their power and territory with alarming efficiency. “I had always imagined you’d be older.”

Silence stretches between us, and I take a drink to stop myself from fidgeting. Poor choice. The alcohol burns as it trickles down my throat, bringing tears to my eyes. I choke and cough, fighting hard not to spit out the liquid fire. And when I finally regain a semblance of composure, Leo wordlessly offers me a napkin.

“Thanks,” I rasp, wiping my lips and then my watering eyes.

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