Page 73 of Revenge on the Mafia

The rest of the room melted into white noise. We stared at each other. It took me some time to realize he’d released his grip. After a long pause, I collected my shattered mind and walked away with Daria. I didn’t need to turn back to know his gaze followed me all the way out of the room.

Thankfully, she took me to a guest bedroom further down the hall, away from the crowd. We walked into the en-suite. She closed the door behind us and immediately popped the question.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Anna?”

I didn’t know anymore. He confused me. Pulled at my emotions. Ripped my insides out. To her, I said, “Everything’s fine.”

She didn’t look so convinced.

I eased her worries. “I mean, it takes some time to get used to him.” Why did he turn me hot and cold and hot again?

She observed me. “I can imagine. Plus,” she crossed over to the sink and dabbed at her lips, “you weren’t born into it. I was, and I still can’t get used to all of this.”

She waved her hands around. It took me some time to figure out that she meant the Mafia. Right. How could I have forgotten that?

“Was he always like this?” I couldn’t help this curiosity. It was so I could get the job done.

Her gaze on me was too intense. I crossed to the other sink, opened my purse, and fumbled in it. I had no idea what I was doing.

After a second, she answered. “I’ve always known him like this. But I haven’t been married for that long…” She took her mascara out and rolled it on her thick eyelashes. “Enzo says he was different before.”

“How?”

“Less distant. More open. At least with family.”

“Before what?”

“Hmm…” She frowned at the mirror. “I don’t know.” She glanced at me. “You want me to ask him?”

“No.” My tone was sharp. I softened it with my next words. “I was just curious.”

What had changed in his life? Was that the reason behind his suicidal mission? Not that I cared.

She put her mascara away and drew closer to me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded, but her gaze was on my hand. I’d crumbled the tissue to dust. Idiota.

“I’m just nervous.” She didn’t look convinced. “I don’t like big crowds.”

“Oh my God.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “I didn’t even think about that. I’m so sorry, Anna. I just felt so bad that you got married in the town hall.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t mind it.”

It was only for a month, anyway.

She shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. You don’t even know anyone here. Do you have family back home?”

My gaze snapped away from hers. Joder. I didn’t want to lie, but telling her wasn’t an option. “Do you mind if I get some fresh air?” I nodded behind her at the balcony that stretched from one end of the house to the other.

“Sure,” she laughed. “As much fresh air as you can get in New York.”

“Thanks.”

I turned to walk away but stopped when she said, “I’ll send Nico over.”

“No need.” I forced my voice to sound calm. “I just need a few minutes.”

She hesitated, then nodded, an expression of understanding in her gaze. I waited until she walked out before crossing the door to the balcony and walking out.