Page 83 of Bene

The stares.

And how it all went quiet.

Bene grinned her way, and Vanna felt an unfamiliar sensation kicking up in her stomach. Butterflies. How long had it been since something like her nerves took over, and reminded her that she was just as human as everyone else?

Too long, apparently.

She wasn’t used to this.

She did her best to focus on him as they rounded the large table filled with numerous faces, she didn’t recognize for the life of her. Not that any of the people staring back at them as she smiled and nodded at the ones they passed looked as though they recognized her, either, or as if they didn’t think she was meant to be there.

They all smiled.

They all greeted them with kindness.

It settled her nerves.

And kicked up her guilt.

Fantastic.

“A bit late, Bene?”

He had just found them a spot to sit at the table that literally filled the whole room and looked as though it was easily sitting thirty people. Was it a custom piece, or had they bought it that way? He pulled out the chair for Vanna to sit as they turned to the man at the far-left end of the table, sitting in a large captain’s chair.

A recognizable face to her.

Gian.

Bene’s father.

Vanna hadn’t known what to expect the first time she came face to face with the man—or for now, just a few seats down at a table from him—but the welcoming smile he wore was not it. Maybe she thought he would be the same as every other man within the life … cold, almost, detached in his stare, but kind because appearances were everything.

Instead, he watched her with a hint of curiosity, but also a warmth that said he was glad to see her there, but especially with his son.

God.

Would he feel the same if he knew the truth?

Or would she finally see the coldness she’d expected?

“We can do proper introductions after the dinner,” Gian said to Bene, and giving a nod to Vanna before adding, “but you can apologize to your mother for being late, hmm?”

“Oui, Papa,” Bene quickly replied.

The first time she ever heard him use French. Even if it was only one word. It was shocking.

He dropped a kiss to the top of her head before helping her push in her chair, and then he left her to sit alone. He headed down to the other end of the very long table to greet the woman sitting in a chair that matched Gian’s opposite to hers. She looked every inch a queen sitting in her throne with her red hair let down in soft waves, and the buttery, cream-colored dress hugging her feminine curves as she smiled up at her son.

Cara.

Even as Bene’s mother reached for him to take his kiss to her cheek, and whatever apology he gave for being late, her gaze still drifted down the table to Vanna. There was a warmth in her gaze, too, but her stare didn’t linger as long when she went back to her son, hooking her finger as if to silently ask him to bend down again.

Bene did.

Cara murmured something that had him grinning. Then, he nodded, and that had his mother mouthing the words. “Ah, I see.”

It was clear the woman adored her son. It showed in every action—from the gentle pat of her hand against his cheek, to the smile on her face filled with pride. Even the glimmer in her eye, as if Bene was the only person in the room while his attention was on her, couldn’t be hidden. Not that it seemed like his mother wanted to hide it.