Page 58 of The Art of Ruin

Fair.

Across the room, Letty crawls directly into Casey’s lap, carrying half a gingerbread roof.

“You’re prettier when you laugh,” she announces.

The entire room goes silent for one catastrophic second. Casey freezes. Matteo makes a strangled noise that sounds suspiciously like swallowed laughter. And Isabella immediately hides her face behind a wine glass.

I close my eyes briefly. “Leticia,” I say carefully.

“What?” she asks innocently. “She is.”

Casey’s cheeks flush pink so quickly it almost distracts me from the fact that Matteo is now visibly vibrating with the effort not to speak.

Elena rescues everyone first. “Of course she is, Tesoro. Now stop emotionally terrorizing adults and eat your pasta.”

“I was being NICE.”

“You were being observant,” Rossi mutters.

That finally breaks the tension enough for conversation to resume, though Matteo is still grinning like he’s being physically sustained by my irritation.

I meet his gaze flatly.

He looks delighted by it.

Of course he does.

Later, while the women clear dessert plates despite Elena loudly insisting nobody helps properly except her, Nico drifts toward the balcony with a fresh whiskey.

I follow mostly because Matteo follows too, which usually means trouble.

Cold winter air cuts through the warmth immediately when Nico slides the balcony doors open. Manhattan glitters below us in gold and white.

Matteo steals one of Nico’s cigars despite not actually smoking it, mostly just holding it dramatically while leaning against the railing. “You look tense,” he tells me.

“You look unemployed.”

“Rude. My job is social, so it looks like fun.”

Nico sips his whiskey calmly. “Ignore him. He’s bored.”

“I’m never bored. I’m vibrant.”

“You threatened a man with bodily harm three days ago.”

Matteo frowns. “He deserved it.”

“You say that constantly.”

“Because people are disappointing. And that one was a misogynistic pig.”

I lean against the railing, glancing back through the glass doors automatically. Casey is inside helping Letty lick frosting off a spoon while Isabella talks beside her.

She smiles at something Isabella says. And I feel it in my chest.

Then I see her glance down at her phone as it lights up again. Even through the glass, I see the change immediately. The smile disappears. She silences the call without even looking properly.

Something cold settles unpleasantly in my chest. “She seeing someone?” I ask without looking away.