Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“Okay.” Nonna changes up the music. “Slow, slow.”
She moves around the room, gesturing to each couple. When she gets to me and Romeo, she practically shoves us together.
A familiar song drifts from the speaker, and I can’t miss the irony that Nonna chose it for me to practice with Riccardo. Yet here I am, dancing with the first man I ever loved to Kina Grannis’s cover of "Can’t Help Falling in Love."
It's an emotional and romantic song, and a quick glance around the room confirms I’m not the only one who feels out of sorts. Chantel and Cristian won’t even make eye contact, and Mariella and Rafe have decided to sit this one out. Naturally, Abella and Angelo are looking at each other like they’re more in love than ever.
Sensing my discomfort, Romeo takes it upon himself to extort it.
“One more game.” He drags me closer, his palm sliding down to my lower back while his other hand engulfs mine. “First one to overthink loses.”
I’m not sure what he means exactly, but soon, we’re playing the staring game again. Except this time, it’s a different kind of staring game. I feel like prey caught in the crosshairs of those wolfish amber eyes.
We’re so much closer now, I can feel the warmth of his body pressed against mine. His hand is like a branding iron on my back, and my knees have gone wobbly.
His gaze drops to my lips, and I think I must be dreaming. That has to be what’s happening. Because there’s no way Romeo Vitale is looking at me like this right now—not unless he’s intentionally trying to screw with me. Is that what he meant by overthink? Because he already knew I’d lose that game.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?”
I startle at the sound of Riccardo’s voice, and my first instinct is to jump back and put some distance between me and Romeo. But he tightens his grip on me and doesn’t let go.
“Riccardo,” I blurt, feeling the need to smooth things over. “Hi.”
His gaze moves between us, narrowing suspiciously.
“Jesus, you look like shit, Ricky.” Rafe chuckles. “Did you pull an all-nighter?”
Riccardo bristles, and I notice he does look pretty rough today—with shadowed eyes, rumpled hair, and a wrinkled shirt. There’s a small bandage just below his eye, and weirdly, he’s wearing a pair of tan leather gloves. It makes me wonder if he got into a fight or something.
“I had a thing with my investors,” he mumbles. “It ran late.”
“Ahh.” Michele smirks. “We’ll get you a little hair of the dog, and you’ll be right as rain in no time.”
“Yeah, sure,” Riccardo grunts.
“You get into a little scrap?” Rafe asks. “What’s with the bandage and the gloves?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Riccardo shifts, looking visibly annoyed as he returns his attention to me. “That was charitable of you to take Bolt for a spin around the dance floor, Gabi. He doesn’t get out much.”
I’m not sure which of us halts first, but we do, and I can’t stop myself from leveling a glare at Riccardo.
“Why would you say something like that?”
“It’s a joke.” Riccardo shrugs it off. “Bolt doesn’t mind. Do you, cuz?”
“Fucking hilarious.” Romeo laughs, but he doesn’t sound at all amused.
When he falls silent, the air in the room shifts, and everyone else notices it too. They’ve all stopped dancing as the Vitale siblings exchange worried glances.
“It’s not funny,” I tell Riccardo. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
Riccardo scowls at me, and I know I’m treading in dangerous waters here. He’s not the kind of man who likes a woman using her voice, and usually, I’m the last person to make waves. But there’s something about him making a joke out of the worst thing that’s ever happened to Romeo that lights a fire of anger in me, and I can’t just let it go.
“Thanks for keeping my girl occupied,” Riccardo grits out, completely ignoring what I said. “But I’ll take it from here.”
Romeo’s grip on me tightens even more, and I can see the tendons in his neck straining as his breath roughens. His pupils dilate, eyes shifting like a predator in the wild. I can feel the tension weaving through every muscle in his body as he looks like he’s stepping into another version of himself. A deeper, darker, more terrifying version.
I’m not the only one who senses it. That charge hums through the air before Angelo’s voice echoes off the walls, clipped and final.
“It’s time for dinner. Everybody out.”
Riccardo doesn’t look at all pleased with the command, but he doesn’t dare voice his opinion to the don. Nobody does. One by one, they filter out of the room, until it’s just four of us. Me, Romeo, Angelo, and Riccardo.
“Go get yourself a drink, Riccardo,” Angelo orders. “I need a quick word with Gabi.”
Riccardo glances between the three of us, clearly annoyed, but eventually, he does as Angelo bids and leaves the room. Angelo shuts the doors behind him, sealing us inside, and then he returns to us.