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She sighs. “I ran into Antonia in the bathroom.” Her lips thin in distaste.
“And?” I press, not understanding how that relates.
“And,” she exhales, slumping a little in her seat. “She called me a whore and then went out of her way to tell me that you and Enzo would never want someone like me.”
Defeat washes over her features as she says the words quickly.
I grind my teeth together, anger vibrating over my skin as I see her shoulders shake and hear her sniffle again.
I glance around the room, locking eyes with Antonia. She’s smirking at us from the safety of her table, surrounded by her father’s men. Bitch.
The only reason she’ll stay alive is because Venitti code doesn’t allow us to kill women, but that doesn’t mean she can’t pay. Publicly. An idea percolates in my mind. Lorenzo Cossi is more image obsessed than anyone else in our little world. His little princess is his world but he doesn’t tolerate being embarrassed.
“Alec,” I call out - still maintaining eye contact with Christina. “Please arrange for Antonia’s next few drinks to have a little something extra in them. The Cossi princess needs a strong dose of reality.”
Alec grins at me and quickly pulls out his phone and starts texting. One thing we know for sure is that Antonia is a mean and loud drunk. So much so, her father limits her to just one or two glasses of champagne per event.
With our help, she’ll be slurring her words and vomiting all over herself by the end of the night. She deserves much worse.
“Christina,” I say, trying to keep my voice low to not draw attention.
“Listen to me.” I take her chin between my fingers when she still refuses to meet my gaze.
“Look at me.” I stare into her soft, brown eyes, glistening with tears.
Her bottom lip trembles.
“I want you, and you’re mine. Ours. And no one will change that.”
Tears well in her eyes.
“Tell me you understand.” My fingers sink into her skin. I want to make this better for her. It takes everything in me to not grab her face and slam my lips into hers.
“I need you to hear what I’m saying. You are ours. Antonia is nothing but a jealous bitch who likes to cause trouble.”
Hope flashes across her face, the only thing that keeps me from dragging her out of this room.
“I understand,” she says.
“Good.” I kiss the top of her head as Enzo returns to the table with a fresh drink.
Soon, dessert is served and people begin to mingle. The main reason people come to these events is to network. To schmooze and make connections.
I’ll give Father credit, playing the politics and social game through events like this has done far more to legitimize our business than anyone would like to admit. Being known as a community philanthropist is exactly the image our family likes to portray.
A loud commotion draws everyone’s attention to the Cossi table, and I turn to see Antonia swaying on her feet. She’s shouting at her father, her voice slurring like a drunk. Lorenzo looks furious. It’s hard not to clap and cheer when we watch him snap his fingers in disgust, ordering his men to grab her and escort her from the party.
She trips, spilling her glass all over the mayor’s wife and Lorenzo turns a curious shade of purple in anger.
The poor guard who was ordered to help her gets slapped for his trouble. Antonia’s carefully coiffed hair is falling down, and her makeup is slightly smeared. She stalks, wobbly, towards the exit. Her face is red with disgrace, and I give her a little wave when she passes by.
She shrieks with rage and runs towards us. “You did this,” she screams. “You did this because of that little whore!”
My father stands immediately, as do his guards.
“You will remember your place, Miss Cossi,” he growls.
Her eyes are shooting daggers at me, but her survival instincts aren’t completely gone. My father is the most powerful man in this room. Going toe to toe with him is a recipe for disaster.
