Page 83 of Unlock My Heart

“If it isn’t Sienna.” The sleazy fed watches me a little too intently as he packs his cigarettes. Pulling one out and lighting up, he keeps the door propped open with his foot.

“Hello, Ringer.” I take an involuntary step back; something about this man has always given me the creeps.

“Benjamin. My name is Benjamin,” he says like I’ve offended him, blowing a long trail of smoke in my direction.

“If you don’t mind, Benjamin, I’m going to squeeze past you,” I say, starting for the door.

“You’re not going to like what you find in there.”

Ice fills my veins as I hesitate, spinning around. “And what am I going to find in there?”

“Fabien with his fiancée,” he says, his eyes dancing with amusement.

All the blood drains from my face.

“Costa nostra princess by way of Baltimore,” he continues. “We won’t hold that against her, being that she checks all the boxes. Well-spoken. Well-educated. Well-connected. Oh, and a classically trained pianist, which, as you can imagine, is music to Mrs. Calvani’s ears.”

It feels like Fabien’s ice pick is stabbing me in the heart. “You’re lying,” is all I can cling to.

He chuckles softly. “Doll, the only one lying here is you to yourself.”

“Don’t call me doll,” I snap, yanking the door open and storming inside.

Shoving my way through the crowd, I stop short.

Fabien’s ice pick splinters my heart into a thousand little pieces.

He’s seated at our table, and snuggled close to him is a cute twenty-something. She’s clearly of Italian heritage, with dark features and midnight-black hair. My eyes land on her left hand touching Fabien’s, and the huge diamond catching the light. Across from them is Fabien’s mother, and another older woman, likely the fiancée’s mother.

The ice in my veins morphs to lava, and I march to the front of the lounge, waiting impatiently beside the table until all eyes are on me. “Isn’t this the pretty picture?”

Guilty.

It’s written all over Fabien’s face.

“You need to leave.” Mrs. Calvani shoots daggers at me before snapping her fingers. A burly man appears by her side. “Escort this woman out.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until I hear from Fabien why he kept his fiancée a secret from me.” Rage is the only thing holding my tears back, and I cling to it like a life preserver.

“Who is this?” The fiancée eyes me like I’m something stuck to the bottom of her designer heel. To add insult to injury, they’re identical to the pair Fabien bought me for my little meet-the-family dinner.

“Nobody,” Fabien says, dismissing me with his eyes.

Before I can lay into him, two guards have surrounded me, and I’m not so gently escorted out and shoved into the alley.

The bottom of the sky opens up, drowning out my sobs. I slide with my back against the brick wall to my ass as my world falls apart.

Whore.

Rose-colored glasses.

Soft heart.

Nobody.

The rain pelts the words against my face as a strike of lightning rattles my bones.

Through my tear-and-raindrop-soaked lashes, I eye Fabien’s precious car.