Chapter 22: The Omerta Ball II

Chapter 22

Her eyes flew wide, blood rushing up her neck to settle on her cheeks. His hand placement on her thighs was possessive, like he owned her.

She turned completely red instantly, her heart drumming in her ears. She knew he was crazy, but she couldn’t believe he was doing this here and now, when two of his bodyguards sat right in front of them—not to mention she was marrying his brother.

“Stop,” she mouthed, her eyes pleadingly looking at his.

Her hands held his wrist, but she knew too well she couldn’t match his massive strength. She couldn’t remove his hand from her thigh.

“I was just helping, peach,” he chuckled, his words only for her to hear.

The last thing Anna wanted was help from him, and thankfully he let go of her thigh. She felt too embarrassed to even look and glare at him. How could he do that? How dare he? She bit her lower lip in frustration.

“Want me to help you with that too?”

“No!” she yelled, her brows furrowed. She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but this demon sitting beside her wouldn’t let her be.

Thankfully, his bodyguards didn’t turn to stare at them and just remained stoic like they weren’t alive. Then again, they were Leone’s bodyguards and had probably seen all shades of his craziness.

Now Anna couldn’t do what she wanted with her own body, all thanks to this demon sitting next to her. Every anxiety about the Omertà Ball flew out the window as she was left stunned and starstruck by what Leone just did.

Anna watched them drive through a tall black gate, her mouth parted, her eyes wide as she took in the large castle building made of black walls.

They pulled up at the parking lot, and the guards alighted the car and respectfully opened the door for them. Leone stepped out first, his well-polished shoe making contact with the cemented ground.

Her eyes widened, her brows furrowed in suspicion when he stretched out his hand for her to take, like a real gentleman—but there was nothing gentle about this man who now stood in front of her with a crooked smile on his lips.

She was still upset about what he did and didn’t want to even look at him, but he was persistent—persistent enough not to withdraw his hand, even when the look in her eyes screamed of total refusal.

Left with no other option, she placed her small hand on his large one, and he was quick to clasp it like a predator capturing its prey. And that untamed and wild look in his eyes—like he wanted to gobble her up completely—or was the excess smoking getting to him already?

He helped her get down from the car. Her black long elegant dress almost swept the floor. Now that she was out of the car, she tried to remove her hand from his, but he just wouldn’t let go. She even tried scratching his palm with her nails, but instead, he tightened his grip on her hand—now she couldn’t even move an inch.

His guards led them to the grand entrance of the castle. Anna’s eyes took in the prestigious antique.

She now knew why the Omertà Ball was top-listed among all the mafia gatherings. The goal of every mafia family was to get an invitation to this ball.

She felt uneasiness settle at the pit of her stomach. She started feeling anxious again as they walked inside.

Large walls built in a medieval fashion, tall ceilings with chandeliers hung on it, which cast a bright golden glow all over the place. The floors were made of clean white tiles—completely spotless.

The air exuded wealth and power. Her eyes fell on the people who mingled about gracefully, draped in elegant and expensive clothes—she felt completely out of place.

She gasped when Leone hooked her hand around his, making her cling onto his muscular arms. She slowly looked at him, but he was looking elsewhere. Anna cleared her throat. Had he done that because he sensed how nervous she had been?

Certainly, this man knew how to pull strings to mess with her mind. It did work though—now that she held his arms, she no longer felt nervous, and she just let him lead the way.

Anna watched an average-heighted man with full gray hair walk up to them, wrinkles at both sides of his face, and he wore glasses too.

“Vicenzo,” he smiled widely as he stretched his hand at Leone for a shake. Anna noticed the way he straight out called him Vicenzo instead of his first name, like he was talking to the Don. It made her wonder how far this man had spread his web.

Leone shook his hand. “Maurizio.” Both began speaking Italian, none of which she could understand, and she stood there, staring at everyone else—from the decorations to the round tables consisting of 3 chairs each.

Each table was covered with a white cloth, wines, glasses, and expensive caviar placed on each table. Some had already taken their seats while others mingled, as the party was yet to fully kick in.

“Annalisa.” The sound of her name jolted her from her thoughts. She turned to see both men staring at her already.

“What a lovely name.” Maurizio outstretched his hand towards her, and Anna felt somewhat queasy—not used to the attention. She slowly placed her hand in his, and he held it, kissing her knuckles.

She felt very uncomfortable, but she figured it was an act which was normalized here, at the utmost tip of the mafia hierarchy. Anna mustered a smile, and immediately he unclasped her hand, she quickly brought it back to her side, with the growing urge to cleanse every trace of his lips on her knuckles.

The elderly man named Maurizio signaled for one of the staff to come. “Please show Miss Lorenzo to the Vicenzo table,” he ordered.

Anna stared at Leone, not wanting to go anywhere without him, as crazy as it sounded. But he simply gave her a nod. Anna untangled her hand from his, and she followed the male staff who led her to their table.

It was located at a more secluded place—more like the VIP section—because of the place. The tables were much bigger, with more expensive items like the champagne fountain which sat in the middle of the table. Different exquisite food was arranged on the table.

Anna sat down on the chair the staff drew out for her. Her eyes fell on the card which sat on the table with ‘Vicenzo’ boldly inscribed on it.

If she hadn’t noticed it before, she did now—the curious eyes which were on her. She tried to ignore it, hoping Leone would join her soon. How he had squeezed her thigh made her completely red again, and she picked a glass of wine to distract herself.

She placed the lid on her lips, ready to down the content, when her eyes fell on a familiar figure. She felt her blood run cold, her eyes widened, her limbs felt numb.

All the noises from the crowd dulled. The glass of wine slipped from her hand to the floor with a loud clatter.

Rocco.