10

Chapter 10: The Woman Ace Morello Took

Maya's POV

I tried my best not to shake, but the moment I heard those heels clicking against the driveway, my body decided it had other plans. I knew that sound. Miranda had a particular way of walking when she was angry, each step would be sharp like the ground had personally offended her. I kept my head lowered, praying she would walk straight past me, but when I risked a small glance, I saw Matteo and Lorenzo following behind her.

Oh, wonderful. The whole committee had arrived.

Of all the people who could have interrupted my escape, it had to be the woman who had spent twenty-two years studying my face just to find something wrong with it. Miranda could recognize me from the way I stood, the way I scratched my nose, or even the stupid little habit I had of biting my lips when nervous. And here I was, standing beside her ex-husband in a cheap wig and a dress he'd practically destroyed.

I wanted to disappear.

Ace, on the other hand, looked like someone had interrupted his sleep to discuss a problem he had no intention of solving. His hand remained at my waist, but his attention was already on the three people approaching us. There was no surprise on his face, or irritation he bothered hiding, his face was just that cold, almost bored expression that made him look even more dangerous.

"Leaving already, Ace?" Miranda asked as she reached us. Her smile was beautiful, which usually meant somebody was about to have a terrible evening. "You haven't changed at all. Still walking out of celebrations whenever you feel like it. I would've thought all these years might have taught you some manners."

Ace didn't even look at her and I almost felt offended on her behalf.... emphasises on almost.

His eyes settled on Lorenzo instead, and something about that quiet dismissal made Miranda's smile tighten. She hated being ignored, especially by men she couldn't control, and Ace had apparently decided she wasn't worth the effort of insulting.

Lorenzo stopped a few feet away, his expensive suit perfectly arranged and his silver hair combed neatly back. He looked calm, but I knew that expression. It was the same one he wore before ordering someone dragged into the basement.

"Don Morello." Lorenzo glanced toward the waiting vehicles before returning his attention to Ace. "I was informed you were leaving. I assumed there must have been a misunderstanding."

"There wasn't."

Ace's answer was so flat that I nearly winced.

Lorenzo's smile remained in place, although his eyes hardened. "You accepted my invitation, Ace. There are certain courtesies we observe between families, particularly when we gather under the same roof. Leaving without taking proper leave of your host sends a message, and I'm sure you understand how easily such messages can be misinterpreted."

Ace finally moved, but only to glance at his watch. The gesture was so deliberately insulting that even I felt the tension rise.

"I accepted your invitation. I came. You've seen my face, and your guests have had the privilege of seeing it too." He lifted his eyes again voice remaining almost conversational. "The wedding is in two days. I'll be there, assuming nothing more important comes up. If you invited me here expecting me to sit around drinking your wine until you decide I'm allowed to leave, you should have made that clear. I would've saved us both the trouble."

My lips twitched beneath the mask.

God, this man had absolutely no survival instinct.

No, that wasn't right. He had plenty. He was simply powerful enough to make everyone else worry about theirs.

Matteo shifted beside Miranda, his expression darkening, but Lorenzo raised one hand before he could speak. That small movement told me everything. Matteo might have been my stepfather and a respected member of the Rossi family, but Lorenzo was the one who decided when people opened their mouths.

"You're standing on Rossi territory," Lorenzo reminded him, his voice growing quieter. "And whatever differences we've had, the Rossi family is not one you should treat lightly. Our position today is stronger than it's ever been."

Ace smiled and it wasn't a pleasant smile. In fact, I would have preferred it if he'd shouted, because there was something deeply unsettling about how relaxed he suddenly looked.

"Stronger?" he repeated, almost thoughtfully. "That's an interesting word for it."

Miranda's expression changed before he even continued.

Ace noticed.

"Tell me something, Lorenzo. When a thief steals a man's house and spends years decorating it, does that make him the owner, or just a thief with expensive furniture?"

The silence that followed was horrible.

I stared at the polished driveway, suddenly fascinated by a tiny crack between two stones. I knew exactly what he meant. Everyone who mattered knew Miranda had taken secrets and territories from Ace's empire before marrying Matteo. Nobody discussed it openly, though, because men had disappeared for saying far less.

Miranda's smile vanished.

"You arrogant bastard," she hissed.

Ace didn't acknowledge her. He continued watching Lorenzo, and I realized he was waiting to see whether the older man would be stupid enough to take the bait.

For a moment, I genuinely thought Lorenzo might.

His jaw tightened, and one of his hands curled slowly at his side. I'd seen him order a man beaten bloody for interrupting him during dinner. Another had disappeared after questioning a business decision. If anyone else had spoken to him like this, there would already have been guns involved.

But this was Ace Morello and Lorenzo knew it.

A low chuckle escaped him, although there was nothing remotely amused about his eyes. "You always did enjoy provoking people, Ace. One day, that mouth of yours might create a problem even your reputation cannot solve."

"Then pray you're not standing too close when it happens."

My stomach tightened.

Neither man raised his voice, and somehow that made the conversation worse. They spoke like two businessmen discussing an inconvenient contract, while the guards behind them watched one another with the kind of attention that usually came before somebody died.

I wished they would finish whatever ridiculous contest this was having and let me leave.

Unfortunately, Lorenzo's eyes shifted straight to me.

"And who is this?"

My blood went cold.

Ace's hand remained against my waist. "A woman."

I nearly choked.

Lorenzo's gaze traveled over my wig, mask and black wrap, lingering on the part of my dress visible beneath it. His expression changed slightly, and I suddenly became aware of how ridiculous I must have looked standing beside Ace.

"One of our entertainers, I believe." He looked toward the Morello guards. "I wasn't aware our performers were permitted to leave with guests before their assignments were completed."

"The arrangement has been settled," Ace answered.

"Has it?"

Lorenzo sounded mildly interested now, and I hated it. He was the kind of man who could turn a harmless question into an interrogation without changing his expression.

Ace's fingers tightened once against my waist before he released me and took a small step forward.

"Is there a problem?"

The question was quiet, but the atmosphere changed immediately.

One of Ace's guards shifted closer to the vehicle. Across the driveway, two Rossi men straightened, their hands remaining visible but their attention suddenly fixed on the Morello security detail.

Nobody reached for a weapon but I could feel the possibility of violence hanging between them, and the worst part was that it was happening over me. An anonymous entertainer. A woman neither side was supposed to care about.

Lorenzo gave another small smile. "I'm merely curious."

"Then satisfy your curiosity somewhere else." Ace's expression remained cold. "My men paid for her time. She's leaving with me. Unless you've suddenly developed a personal interest in this particular woman, I suggest you stop asking questions."

I stopped breathing because Lorenzo was looking at me again and this time, Miranda was too.

Her eyes narrowed slightly behind her makeup, moving from my shoes to the wrap covering my shoulders. I kept my face lowered, terrified that even one wrong movement would expose me.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Miranda suddenly asked.

Oh, hell no.

I couldn't answer.

I knew exactly what would happen if I did. She might not recognize my face beneath the mask, but my voice was another matter entirely. I'd spent years answering her demands, apologizing for things I hadn't done and listening while she reminded me how disappointing I was.

She knew my voice.

I tightened my fingers around the wrap and pretended I hadn't heard her.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

There it was, that familiar command and for one horrible second, my body almost obeyed automatically.

Then Ace spoke.

"She's not yours to question."

Miranda turned toward him, her expression twisting. "I was asking the girl a simple question. Surely you haven't become so possessive that..."

"Miranda Rossi." His voice dropped, and she stopped speaking. "Find someone else to irritate."

I almost smiled then I noticed her reaching for her phone.

My amusement disappeared immediately.

She typed something, glanced at me, then returned to the screen. A moment later, she typed again, faster this time.

Who was she messaging?

The entertainer supervisor? Lorenzo's security? Someone upstairs?

What if she was asking whether Maya was still at the celebration? What if she wanted someone to check my bedroom? Worse, what if she had already noticed something familiar and was trying to confirm it?

"Maya."

Clara's whisper crackled through my receiver, making me flinch.

"Don't react. I don't know what Miranda's doing, but you need to get out of there. Now."

As if I hadn't noticed.

I wanted to scream that I was trying, that I was standing less than two feet from freedom while my supposed mother casually arranged my execution through her phone.

Instead, I remained silent.

My heart was beating so hard that I wondered whether Ace could feel it from where he stood.

Lorenzo watched him for several more seconds, and I could almost see the calculations taking place behind his eyes. Whatever insult Ace had delivered, starting a confrontation here would cost him more than it was worth. Especially over an entertainer whose identity he apparently didn't know.

Finally, he stepped aside.

"Very well." His smile returned, although his voice remained cold. "I wouldn't dream of delaying such important business over a woman. But I expect to see you at the wedding in two days, Ace. There are matters we still need to discuss."

Ace didn't answer.

He simply turned away, as though Lorenzo had already ceased to exist.

I almost collapsed from relief when his hand returned to my waist, guiding me toward the open vehicle. Behind us, I could still feel Miranda watching, and the thought of her typing away on that phone made my skin crawl. Knowing my mother, she could be ordering someone to check my room, investigate the entertainers, or arrange my funeral. Honestly, with that woman, all three were possible.

One of the guards held the door open while Ace placed a firm hand against my back and pushed me toward the dark interior. I climbed inside without looking back, afraid that one last glance might somehow give me away, and a second later, Ace Morello settled beside me.

The door shut, the engine came to life, and a small, helpless "Phew" escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

Unfortunately, Ace heard me.

He turned his head slowly, giving me a cold look that made the relief die halfway down my throat. I immediately pressed my lips together, pretending I hadn't just made a noise like a punctured balloon. He stared for another second before looking away, dismissing me so completely that I almost wondered whether I'd become invisible.

What a snob of a man.

And to think I used to call this arrogant creature my stepfather. Well, former stepfather. Obviously former. Miranda had divorced him years ago, and technically, he wasn't anything to me anymore.

Wait.

Was former stepfather even the correct term? Ex-stepfather? Mother's ex-husband? The man who used to tell me to finish my vegetables and had now become the biggest threat to my remaining brain cells?

Good Lord. I needed to stop thinking before I gave myself a headache.