Chapter Seven

“Madam, this is a high standard party, not some random diner with your friends." Nadia tells me as I run the brush through my curls. “The boss won't appreciate seeing you like this."

I roll my eyes at her and turn around. “You're being a pain in my ass, Nadia. What's wrong with my dress?"

" Everything!”

I ignore her and continue brushing my hair. Of course Nadia would see something wrong with my dress. It's not one of the dresses she always made me wear, those that are three sizes smaller.

Tonight, I chose a sleeveless, ankle length black dress with a thigh high slit and a teasing neckline. I pair it with a pair of black heeled sandals and absolutely no makeup.

Of course Nadia would be pissed at my choice of clothing and lack of makeup. Not like I care. I already had a shitty day with the letter and stuff so I am in really no mood for any of her bullshit.

I apply some gloss to my lips, put on my earrings, necklace and bracelet, and turn around to face her with some bored look on my face. “Listen, Nadia, I'm not in any mood to argue with you. This is what I'm wearing to the party and that's final."

With that, I side step her and walk out of the room. I'm not really in the mood to attend any party this evening, but the moment Alessio and I stepped into the house, Alberto asked me to be ready by six for some gang party.

I'd rather climb into bed and read one of the books on my kindle, talk to Elsie and fall asleep hoping the days ahead would be better. But I'm no longer that girl who works at the strip club, struggling to meet up with her sister's medical bills and her mother's gambling debts.

Nope, I'm an engaged woman now, to a Mafia boss no less. That comes with all the parties and making appearances to the public.

So not me.

I descend the stairs and look around if I can spot Trevor. The man's nowhere to be found. I was supposed to go with Alberto originally, but something came up and he had to leave earlier. So my babysitter was tasked with the job of getting me safely to the venue.

Trevor was not happy when his father told him that he'll be the one to drive me. He grumbled something about “being a cock locker." Not like I care, though. He'll drop me off whether he likes it or not.

I take out my phone from my purse and scroll through to find his contact.

Me: Where the hell are you, dude?

Me: We don't have all day here. Alberto's gonna be mad as hell if I arrive late.

Me: You know how much he loves showing me off.

After sending the messages, I scroll to my chat with Elise and see a new message, one I'd missed.

Elsie: Do you think Trevor is cute? He says he wants to have dinner with me sometime next week.

Elsie: He actually wanted this weekend, but I told him we're going to the movies this weekend.

Me: Trevor's an asshole but I think he likes you.

Her reply is instant, like she's been waiting for my text.

Elsie: Okay then! I'll tell him next weekend can work.

Elsie: Tell me, how is your new job? You didn't tell me anything but I know you have a new job because Doctor James said you already paid for my medicines for the month.

I sigh.

I can't tell her that I'm engaged to an old Mafia boss. She'll freak the hell out. I'm about to reply when Trevor comes downstairs dressed in a black tuxedo.

“Where the hell were you, asshole?" I ask folding my arms.

“Move your ass, or I'll leave you here.”

I follow him to the car and get in.

The car ride is silent.

Not the comfortable kind, but not the light banter that exists between us.

The heavy, teeth-grinding kind that makes you acutely aware of every sound—; he engine’s low hum, the click of Trevor’s turn signal, the faint buzz of my phone as I slip it back into my purse.

Trevor drives like he’s pissed at the road for existing. One hand on the wheel, the other resting casually near the gearshift, jaw clenched so tight I’m surprised his teeth haven’t cracked.

I stare out the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of neon and shadows. This part of town smells like money and bad decisions. Expensive restaurants. Private clubs. Buildings with tinted windows and guards who don’t ask questions.

“So,” I finally say, breaking the silence. “You gonna sulk the entire drive or actually speak to me?”

He snorts. “I am speaking to you.”

“Barely.”

He glances at me, eyes flicking briefly to the slit in my dress before snapping back to the road. “You look… different tonight. You're better when you're not stuffed up in one of Nadia's creations.”

I arch a brow. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me since we met.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

I smile anyway.

We pass through a gated entrance, security waving us through after one look at Trevor.

My stomach tightens.

This isn’t just a party. This is one of those gatherings where deals are made, where smiles hide knives, and where women like me are displayed like proof of ownership.

“You nervous?” Trevor asks suddenly.

I shrug, forcing casual into my tone. “Should I be?”

His grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Just stick close to Alberto. Don’t wander. And don’t talk to anyone unless they talk to you first. When Alberto's making deals you can stick with the women. No one will touch you once they know you belong to him “

I laugh softly. “Wow. Sounds like a blast.”

“I’m serious, Amelia.” He finally looks at me, really looks this time. “These people aren’t your strip club regulars. One wrong look, one wrong word, and things get… messy.”

The reminder makes my chest tighten, but I refuse to show it. “Noted.”

The car slows, turning onto a long, illuminated driveway. The mansion ahead glows like a goddamn palace; lights everywhere, valet parking lined with black cars that probably cost more than my entire past life.

Music hums faintly through the walls. Laughter. Power.

Trevor pulls to a stop, hands the keys to a valet, and steps out. He opens my door, offering a hand.

I hesitate for half a second.

Then I take it.

As my heels touch the ground, I square my shoulders and lift my chin. I might not belong here, but tonight, I’ll play the part.

Trevor leans in close, voice low. “Remember what I said.”

I glance up at the mansion, my pulse quickening. “Trust me,” I murmur. “I’ve been surviving worse than this my whole life.”

And with that, I walk toward the entrance—toward the lights, the danger, and the life I never asked for but can’t escape.

The mansion is different from the regular parties I've attended before. This is filled with men dressed in black suits that I'm sure conceal guns, women dressed to the latest elegance and guards who are on high alert at all times.

“Ah, La mia piccola rosa .” Alberto's voice reaches me above the noise before I spot him. His suit is stretched across his belly and his bald head glitters beneath the lights. His glass is half finished and he walks towards me with a big smile.

He hugs me and kisses my cheek. At times I'm extremely glad that he respects my decision to wait before getting intimate. But Mia and

Silver tell me it's because he hasn't made up his mind yet.

“Come on," he says, gently pulling me along. We head to a crowd of men,all around his age. “Meet the newest bride in the Cosa Nostra. My very own Amelia."

“You're a beautiful one," one of them says. I vaguely recall him. He attended a diner at home and Trevor told me he was a godfather as well, but based in Italy. Trevor mentioned his name, but I don't think I can recall what it was.

“Yeah, Alberto always finds himself the best ones…”

My gaze travels around the room, completely zoning out the men. I don't know what or who I'm searching for, but the moment I set my eyes on Rafè and Valiente, I know I found it.

They look so good it's supposed to be considered illegal.

Before I can have time to reign in their appearance, and obsess over how criminally good they look, my eyes spot another figure.

Lucas.