Page 59 of Sinful Bride

"Of course not." He smiles again, and this time it looks almost genuine. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mrs. Murphy." He disappears back into the crowd, leaving me standing alone in the hallway with my heart pounding and my mind racing.

Something is wrong. I don't know what, exactly, and I don't have proof. But every instinct I have is screaming that Dante Moretti is not what he appears to be.

And Declan has no idea.

I take a deep breath, smooth down the front of my dress, and head back into the ballroom.

13

DECLAN

The venue is the kind of place that makes me feel like I'm wearing someone else's skin. I adjust my cufflinks for the third time in as many minutes, standing near the bar with a glass of whiskey I haven't touched. The ballroom is packed with Chicago's elite, mafia families dressed in designer suits and gowns that cost more than most people make in a year.

The Marchettis have never liked me. They made that clear from the beginning, when I first took over from Lachlan. They see me as an upstart, a pretender, someone who doesn't belong in their world of tradition and bloodlines. Tonight's charity gala is just another opportunity for them to remind me of that fact.

"Mr. Murphy." Antonio Marchetti approaches with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "How good of you to attend."

The emphasis on you isn't subtle.

"Wouldn't miss it," I say, keeping my voice even. "It's for a good cause."

"Indeed." His gaze flicks over me, assessing, judging me. "I was surprised to hear about your marriage to the Capetti girl. Quite a coup for someone in your... position."

Position. Not our world. Not the organization. My position. Like I'm a temporary fixture that can be removed.

"Elena and I are very happy," I say, the lie smooth on my tongue.

"I'm sure." Antonio's smile sharpens. "Though I imagine it must be difficult for her, adjusting to such a different lifestyle. The Capettis are old blood. Very traditional. Your story is so... modern."

The word modern sounds like an insult.

I take a sip of whiskey to buy myself time and keep from saying something I'll regret. "We're finding our way."

"Of course, of course." He claps me on the shoulder with false warmth. "Marriage is always an adjustment. Especially when the backgrounds are so disparate."

He moves on before I can respond, leaving me standing there with my jaw tight and my hand clenched around the glass. Disparate. Like Elena and I are from different species.

Maybe we are.

I scan the room, looking for her. She disappeared about twenty minutes ago, and surely she can't have lingered in the bathroom that long. I catch sight of her across the ballroom, standing near the windows in that emerald-green dress that makes it evident she was born into this world. She's laughing at something one of the women said, her posture perfect, her smile gracious. She belongs here in a way I never will.

The thought sits heavy in my chest. I've been trying so hard to prove myself, to show these people that I'm worthy of the position Lachlan gave me. But moments like this, standing in a room full of people who look at me like I'm an intruder, make me wonder if I'm fighting a losing battle.

"Declan Murphy." Another voice, another forced smile. This time it's one of the Marchetti capos. "Enjoying the party?"

"It's lovely.” That's what you're supposed to say at these things, right?

"I heard you had some trouble recently. An attack on one of your shipments?" His tone is sympathetic, but there's curiosity underneath it, and maybe satisfaction.

"We handled it."

"I'm sure you did." He takes a sip of his drink. "Still, it must be concerning. Attacks like that suggest weakness. Vulnerability. It makes other families wonder if you're really up to the task of leading."

My grip tightens on the glass. "I appreciate your concern."

"Just an observation." He shrugs. "In this world, perception is everything. If people think you're weak, you become weak. No matter how strong you actually are."

He walks away, leaving me with the distinct impression that I've just been threatened.