Page 7 of Savage Betrayal

“Leo!” a man calls, walking toward us. He looks just a few years older than I am. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I… who’s your friend?” he asks, his mind seeming to jump tracks as his eyes take me in for the first time.

“Meet Tia. Tia, this is my cousin Vinnie.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he says, extending his hand.

And as I take it, Vinnie leans in to stage-whisper, “Don’t let him fool you. He might come across as intimidating and respectable, but he’s a sucker for a pretty smile.” Then he gives me a conspiratorial wink.

A startled giggle escapes me, and I glance at Leo from the corner of my eye to gauge his reaction. He merely quirks an eyebrow at his cousin, who clears his throat and straightens. Once again, I’m struck by the authority he commands without lifting a finger. Not even my father puts people in line with so little effort.

“You needed something, Vinnie?” he says after a moment’s silence.

“Oh, yeah. But it can wait.” Leo’s cousin gives a slight bow of his head. “Pleasure to meet you, Tia.”

“Likewise.”

We don’t linger long before Leo whisks me toward a door leading off the hall. A moment later, we enter the billiards, where several pool tables have multiple games occurring at once. In here, the scent of cigars lingers in the air, and the throbbing music bleeds through the walls without actually filling the room.

Once again, Leo introduces me like a guest of honor. Though I know several of the partygoers as acquaintances of my family, it becomes increasingly easy to spot the Moretti family members—because I recognize so few.

We travel through several more rooms, Leo showing me the study, the conservatory, the parlor. Each is more finely decorated than the last. As we weave through the crowded house, Leo converses lightly with his guests, introducing me to whomever he thinks I might find interesting along the way.

And the longer I spend with him, the more I start to question all the warnings my parents have given about staying far away from the Moretti family. I sense nothing of the animosity my father has spoken about reflected in Leo’s actions.

If anything, his easy charm makes it impossible to avoid what I’m quickly realizing is my first crush.

We finish our tour back in the ballroom, where the party is in full swing, the music filling the space as people move across the dance floor and mingle.

“Would you… be interested in going somewhere a little more private?” he asks after several more guests bombard him, demanding his attention. “Somewhere we can talk without this constant interruption?”

And though I don’t quite understand why Leo seems so willing to keep talking to me, I can’t deny I like it. My pulse quickens, and I swallow to quell my nerves as I nod.

2

TIA

The separate wing Leo takes me to rings with the silence of leaving the party’s music behind, and I’m suddenly intensely aware of each breath passing between my lips. This section of the house is as ornately decorated as the last, with rich marble floors, fine dark-wood wall paneling, and pedestals holding fresh bouquets of flowers that perfume the air.

I can only imagine how many people it must take to maintain the opulent arrangements.

“No one will bother us here,” Leo assures me, stopping to open a thick wooden door.

Nervous excitement bubbles up in my chest as I take in the mahogany four-poster bed, the rich furnishings that accompany it, and the deep greens, grays, and browns that fill the space with warmth. A closed-glass gas fireplace with sparkling obsidian at its base occupies one entire wall of the room. And just beyond it is the en suite bathroom.

“Is this…?”

“My room? Yes, I hope you don’t mind. It’s just the one place I know I can find peace and quiet. No one will disturb us here.”

My heart flutters giddily, the excitement warring with a deeply ingrained apprehension. I know my parents would never approve of me being alone with a boy in his room. Especially not Leonardo Moretti. And at the back of my mind, an alarm bell sends off a subtle warning at his words.

And yet, I don’t want to say no. For whatever reason, I trust Leo. And it flatters me to think he would invite me into his personal space when he has maintained a polite distance from so many of his other guests tonight. I might be crashing his party, but he’s certainly welcoming me into his place of solitude.

“It’s beautiful,” I admit, taking in the spacious room that feels like an apartment in and of itself.

The door clicks softly shut behind us, and when I glance back at Leo, he gestures to the richly upholstered seating area that fills the space near his large picture window. Outside, the night looms inky and absolute, making the window into a reflective surface.

Fire races through my veins as Leo’s eyes find mine in the mirrored glass. His lips curve into a mischievous grin, breaking the sudden tension and freezing me in place; I release a breathy laugh as he seems to read my indecision and takes the lead.

“Have you enjoyed your taste of freedom tonight?” he asks, his smooth baritone low and warm as he settles onto the couch, his arm resting lightly along the back.

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