King of Souls
Page 15
We made our way downstairs together, fifteen minutes earlier than planned. I refused to have Scott arrive at the door again with flowers, not when he was offering me something much more sinister.
When we reached the foyer, Luis clutched his sleeve, whispering something into the hidden mic. I was used to his discreet communications now. What had once felt like an intrusion on my life was now something I took for granted.
Luis was my shadow, my guardian angel, and I felt safer knowing he was there.
“Do you think I made a mistake?” I asked him.
He glanced down at me, his brow raised. “It is not for me to tell you how to live your life, Arianne.”
“I know.” I gave him a polite nod. “But I value your opinion.”
“I think...” He hesitated, disapproval swirling in his eyes, but then the corner of his mouth tipped. “I don’t blame you for wanting to defy him.”
“But you don’t think I should poke the beast?”
“You must choose your battles wisely.”
A sleek, black limousine pulled up outside the building and Luis crooked his arm. “Shall we?”
I laced my arm with his, letting him lead me outside. The driver stepped from the car and came around to open the back door. Scott stepped out, his eyes instantly going to my dress. “I thought I told you wear the silver one.”
“I preferred the emerald.”
His eyes burned with indignation. “My parents will be disappointed you chose to disobey me.”
“I’m sure they’ll get over it,” I said.
“I’ll be up front.” Luis released my arm and waited for me to climb inside. Scott followed, crowding me to the far side of the long leather seat. The car door slammed shut, reverberating through my skull.
“Is this how it’s always going to be?” Scott glowered at me. “I ask you to do something and you go out of your way to defy me?”
“I wore the necklace.” I flashed him a twisted smile.
“You’re feisty, I’ll give you that much.” Scott toyed with one of the strands of my hair, twisting it around his finger. I had no choice but to lean closer unless I wanted the pinch of pain to worsen.
“I just can’t decide if I like it or not.” He moved away, surprising me. “Champagne? We are celebrating after all.”
“You think I’d ever trust you with my drink again?”
“That was... a means to an end.”
Bile clawed my throat. He spoke about it so candidly. So callously. As if that night hadn’t been the single most horrific night of my life. I glanced away, giving myself a moment to catch my breath.
“Suit yourself.” I heard him pop the cork and pour himself a glass. When I finally lifted my eyes to his again, Scott was watching me.
“What?” I clipped out.
“For as much as I wanted you to wear the silver dress, that looks really fucking good on you.” He rubbed his jaw, letting his eyes linger on the low-cut neckline. Then a slow smirk tugged at his mouth. “Good thing I came prepared.” Scott leaned over to the counter running along one side of the interior and pulled out a small drawer.
My heart sank at the emerald tie wrapped in his fingers.
“You think I don’t know you, Arianne, but I do.” His eyes narrowed as he undid his silver tie and replaced it with the one to match my dress.
My eyes closed as I suppressed a shudder. Something was different tonight. Maybe it was the fact I’d defied him by choosing a different dress or maybe it was the small blade strapped to my right thigh, but despite his attempt to disarm me, I no longer felt weak in his presence.
I felt strong.
Confidence coursed through me. A new sense of strength. Scott had already hurt me in the worst possible way, anything else he tried to throw at me was nothing I couldn’t handle.
“I didn’t wear it for you.”
“No.” He leaned in closer again. “But I’m going to pretend you did. I’m going to pretend you picked it out just for me.” His fingers painted a trail along my arm, the emerald tie taunting me. “I have something for you. My father wanted me to wait until later, but I want to walk in there with you on my arm and my ring on your finger.” His words dripped with possessiveness.
Scott pulled a small ring box out of his jacket and presented it to me. “I had it sized.” He flipped the lid and removed it from its pillowed casing.
My hand trembled as he took my hand and gently slid the engagement band over my finger. It felt heavy. Unfamiliar and wrong.
It felt like he was stealing another one of my firsts.
“You’re mine now, Principessa.” His touch lingered, his gaze dark and hungry. My breath caught, nervous energy zipping through me. Scott was going to try to kiss me; it was there in his piercing gaze.
Thankfully, Luis chose that exact moment to lower the screen. “We’re almost here. Your father has confirmed everyone is inside. You’ll make your entrance and be seated for the meal.”
Like I could possibly eat with the giant knot in my stomach.
“Are you ready?” Scott asked around a sly smile. He was loving every second of this, but I refused to show any sign of fear.
Not tonight.
“I am,” I said, steeling myself for the night ahead.
The door opened and Scott climbed out, offering me his hand. I took it, squeezing a little harder than was acceptable. “Nice grip,” he teased.
I smoothed my dress out and glanced up at the impressive hotel. There was security posted everywhere. I’d expected it to be well-manned, but I hadn’t expected such a show of force.
“Tonight, is going to be a night to remember.” His breath was warm on my face. I sidestepped him, narrowing my eyes.
There was something in his inflection. A veiled threat that had alarm bells ringing in my head. But what bombshell could he possibly drop on me that was any worse than his father officially announcing our engagement?
There wasn’t.
Which meant Scott was just trying to get under my skin.
I would go to the party, eat and drink, and smile in all the right places. I would stand at his side and let them believe the lie. And then I would retreat to my room where, in the cover of darkness, I would allow myself a moment to break.
This time, when he touched the small of my back and pressed his body up close behind mine, I didn’t panic. I simply held my head high, rolled back my shoulders, and took a deep breath.
I could do this.
I would do this.
Because I was Arianne Capizola. I was my father’s daughter.
And tonight, I would bow for no one.
THE GOLD STAR HOTEL was an opulent place decked out in rich gold and warm beige. But the Michelangelo Suite was the showstopper. A huge room with high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling sash windows, it overlooked a perfectly trimmed lawn leading to a small lake. Two identical crystal chandeliers hung over the round tables. The chairs were wrapped in beige and gold bows and each table had a candelabra centerpiece woven with fresh gold-tinted roses. It was ostentatious. A dinner fit for a king.
And exactly the kind of thing I’d expected.
“You’re shaking,” Scott said as we stepped into the room. No one paid us much attention at first but then the whispers started.
“There you are.” Mike Fascini spotted us and made his way over.
“Son, you’re looking very smart, and Arianne...” He gave me the once over before he leaned in to whisper, “My son is a very lucky man. Shall we?”
Mike motioned to the table at the front of the room. I spotted my parents and Suzanna Fascini, and Nora and her date, Dan. It felt like everyone was watching. Maybe they were. I didn’t let my gaze waver to check. I kept focused on Nora who was giving me a reassuring smile, her knowing gaze silently saying, ‘you’ve got this’.
“Mio tesoro.” My father stood, coming around to greet us. He took my face in his hands, gazing at me with such reverie I felt winded. “You look...” He swallowed hard, almost choking ov
er the words.
It gave me an odd sense of satisfaction to see him so uncomfortable.
That makes two of us, Father. I gently shrugged out of his hold and bypassed him to reach my mother.
“Arianne, mia cara. The dress is perfection on you.” She gave me a sly wink and I frowned. Did she know Scott had requested I wear the silver dress?
I got my answer when Suzanna Fascini greeted me. “Arianne, you look amazing. Did the silver dress not fit well?” She cocked a brow.
“I preferred the emerald.” I shot her a saccharine smile before taking my seat. Unfortunately, we were seated male, female, male, female, so I wasn’t directly next to Nora. But Dan was between us and she wasted no time sliding her hand over his lap to gently squeeze mine.
“Are you okay?” She mouthed, and I nodded.
Scott took his seat beside me just as Mike Fascini took to the stage. He unclipped the mic from its stand. “Good evening, everyone,” his voice echoed through the grand room. “It’s so endearing to see so many of our friends and colleagues gathered for a night of celebration. But before we get to all that, eat, drink, and enjoy good company. Cheers.” He lifted his glass and the room repeated the word back at him.
An army of servers burst from a swing door carrying trays of appetizers, the rich smell of tomato and garlic filling the air.
“Wine?” Scott gently brushed my arm. The knot in my stomach twisted.
I glanced to Nora and she held up her own, reassuring me it was safe.
But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let him pour me a drink.
Laying my hand on Dan’s arm, I smiled up at him. “Could you pour me a glass of the red, please?”
“Hmm, sure.” His brows knitted as he glanced between me and Scott, who was still holding a bottle.
“Thank you.” I lifted my glass toward Scott. “I’m good, thanks.”
He snarled, his heavy hand landing on my thigh beneath the table. I went rigid, forcing myself to breathe. “Don’t play games with me, not tonight.” He whispered out of the side of his mouth.
“Get your hands off me.” I pushed him away, resisting the urge to break his finger.
A plate of food was placed in front of me and I thanked the server. It looked delicious. Tomato and basil bruschetta with a balsamic jus. But my appetite was back in my apartment.
“You should eat,” Scott said. “We have a long night ahead.”
I caught it again. The hint of warning in his voice. The slight inflection of arrogance, as if he knew something I didn’t.
Refusing to play his games, I kept my gaze ahead. My mother caught my eye and smiled. She looked stunning in her Italian designer one-shoulder drape gown. It was a deep blue, a perfect match to the sapphire and diamond pendant she wore. Suzanna was in an equally beautiful gown with her hair styled in a complex updo.
At some point during the first course, Scott rested his arm along the back of my chair, his fingers dancing precariously close to my skin. If I sat straighter, putting more space between us, he shifted closer. It was a battle of the wills, neither of us prepared to lose.
“Everything okay with your food, Arianne?” Mike asked across the table. I placed down my silverware and forced a smile. I’d picked at the entrée, moving it around my plate to give the appearance of having eaten some.
“I’m saving myself for dessert.”
He chuckled. “You have a sweet tooth? You’ll be right at home with Scott then. He’s a huge fan of dessert. Growing up he couldn’t get enough of Suzanna’s cannoli and tiramisu.”
Pain lanced my chest. Scott and tiramisu didn’t belong in the same sentence together, not when that word reminded me so much of Nicco.
“Arianne, what is it?” My father’s baritone voice reverberated through me.
“Nothing.” I grabbed my wine glass and drank it down. “I’m fine.”
“She’s just a little nervous I suspect,” Suzanna said. “It’s to be expected.”
“You need to relax, baby,” Scott raised his voice slightly, enough that the nearby tables had to have heard him and roped his arm around my neck. “I’ve told you, everything is going to be fine.”
Everything inside me screamed at him to get his hands off me but I swallowed it down. I couldn’t cause a scene, not here. Not in the middle of this godforsaken dinner with Verona County’s elite.
Grabbing his hand in mine, I removed it from my neck and placed it back in his lap. “And I’ve told you, I’m fine.”
“You’re going to have to watch that one,” Mike laughed. “She’s feisty.”
“Don’t I know it,” Scott murmured under his breath.
The servers began collecting our plates, giving me a moments reprieve.
“Why don’t you go see if you can get us a proper drink?” Nora suggested to Dan.
“But, babe, they have table ser—”
“There’s a bar over there.”
He finally took the hint and got up. Nora wasted no time sliding into her date’s empty chair. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
My eyes flicked to my parents and the Fascini. They were deep in conversation and Scott was busy texting someone.
“I’m fine.”
“It would be okay if you’re not. It’s kind of intense.”
“I’ll be okay. I bet Dan thinks he’s entered The Twilight Zone.” I let out a quiet sigh.
“After the Centenary Gala I think he knows the score where your dad is concerned.”
“Abato,” Scott leaned around me. “So nice of you to join us.”
“I was invited, asshole,” she sneered.
“Yeah, because I suggested it.”
“You? Un-fucking-likely.”
“Truth.” His shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “I didn’t want Arianne to feel out of her depth.”
“How very thoughtful of you,” I mocked, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.
“Fuck this, I’m going to take a piss.” He got up and strolled away from the table.
“God, he’s a vile asshole.”
“Tell me about it. He’s trying so hard to push my buttons.”
Nora grabbed my hand. “And you’re doing so well not rising to him. Nice little dig with the dress by the way. How’d he take it?”
“Tried to pretend he didn’t mind, but it irritated him.”
“Good, he deserves it, trying to tell you what to wear. Who the hell does he think he is?”
“My fiancé apparently.” Bitterness clung to every syllable.
Her expression fell. “Shit, Ari, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ll never marry him. I’d rather—” I stopped myself.
“Don’t ever say that,” she gasped, concern glittering in her eyes. “It won’t come to that,” she whispered the next words. “Nicco would never allow it.”
My breath hitched at the mention of his name and she frowned. “What is it?”
“We had an argument earlier. I said some things...”
“What things?”
“It doesn’t matter.” It did. But I didn’t want to relive the conversation. I’d been frustrated and hurting, and I’d taken it out on him.
“Are you—”
Dan chose that moment to return, looming down over us. “I got us doubles; something tells me we’re going to need it.”
“My kind of guy.” Nora shuffled back to her own seat and accepted the drink from him.
“I didn’t get you anything, Ari, sorry, I didn’t—”
“It’s okay.” For as much as a strong drink would no doubt settle some of my nerves, I couldn’t afford to drop the ball.
Not tonight.
Chapter 17
Nicco
I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t sit in my uncle’s house knowing that she was at some flashy hotel being paraded around as his fiancée.
After our heated conversation this morning, I’d tried texting her. I’d even called again, but Arianne was freezing me out. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much
that when I stormed out of the house and fired up my bike, I told myself I wouldn’t go there. Told myself that I just needed to ride and clear my head. But before I knew it, the roads grew familiar... until I was in Roccaforte, the Gold Star Hotel looming in the distance like a neon fucking sign put there to taunt me.
She was in there with him.
My Arianne.
My strong, brave Arianne.
I found somewhere to park and threw my leg over the bike and just stood there. Staring at the place like it was a mirage in a scorched desert. You knew you shouldn’t... but you just couldn’t help yourself fall for the illusion.
It was a bad decision.
A moment of weakness that could land me in a whole heap of trouble.
But in that moment, I didn’t care.
I didn’t care I was defying my father’s direct order, risking everything just to be near her.
Before I could stop myself, I started towards the hotel, keeping to the shadows. My hooded jacket afforded me some disguise, but I knew Roberto and Fascini’s security guys would have been told to keep an eye out for any signs of me or my guys.
Part of me wondered if Fascini was banking on me showing up. That maybe this was all an intricate trap laid to ensnare me, and I was walking willingly into it.
But I had to see Arianne.
After our fight this morning, I needed to see her. I needed to look her in the eyes and know we were okay, that we could survive this.
As I drew closer to the Gold Star, I pressed closer to the rows of storefronts, careful not to draw too much attention to myself. It was heavily guarded, numerous security men posted on the entrance and beyond the glass doors. There was no way I was walking through the front door, but I knew there were multiple entrances. The hotel overlooked vast lawns that ran down to a private lake, that was my best option. It would give me a perfect vantage point of the Michelangelo Suite. I could watch, I could make sure she was okay, and then I could slip away like a ghost.
IT SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN so easy. I’d walked right into the gardens, scaled a wall, and found the perfect place to watch from.