Four

I f I have to fake another smile and kiss one more cheek, I might be sick. I'm not in a very peopley mood tonight. It’s been a terrible month. The only thing making this evening bearable is the free-flowing champagne.

“It’s been too long. How’s your mom?” I barely contain my scoff as I hear Junior ask the man, Vinny, beside me. He doesn’t give a fuck about this man. I swear I heard him talking to his trusted Capo, Vito, the other day, saying Vinny was becoming a “problem.”

“She’s been great… My brother says hi. He’s sorry he couldn’t attend tonight,” the problem says as he fixes his tie. I can see he’s uncomfortable standing this close to Junior. Junior isn’t necessarily a tall man, but the aura he gives off makes him appear larger than he is.

Ugh, the fakeness surrounding me churns my stomach. No one here actually gives a shit about what this evening is actually for. We’re here to raise money for a mobile medical clinic fleet that travels along the East Coast, offering free health care to anyone in need—a truly valiant effort. However, from what I'm seeing…people are only here to kiss my husband’s ass.

The East Coast Mobile Clinic is the brainchild of one of his many constituents, so I'm sure having Giovanni Santini Jr. at the event draws somewhat of a crowd. And hopefully, for the fundraiser aspect, some deep pockets. I would hate for all this effort to go to waste.

Turning away from Junior and the circle surrounding him, I grab another champagne flute from a passing waiter, downing it in two sips.

I never knew what loneliness was until I became Mrs. Santini, especially at these types of events. All the ladies of Junior’s men seem to congregate together, never asking me to join them. For some unknown reason, I’m left out of most of their affairs. I wonder if it has to do with them all hating my husband in one way or another. They probably all get together and talk about how horrible he is. Little do they know, I would love to be the president of that club.

I have no one. Well, no one who I can truly talk or vent to. Who I can share my innermost feelings with.

Excusing myself, I step away from the men and head to the restroom, swaying ever-so-slightly in my six-inch heels. Champagne and Louboutins—not a great combination. I giggle inwardly as I weave through the crowd, not caring if my bodyguard realizes I left Junior’s side.

Sure enough, when I peek over my shoulder, Luca is trailing behind me, keeping his distance, of course…but keeping me within sight. He makes a motion with his hand that I can’t make out, right before I slam into a hard chest. I practically ricochet off the man in front of me, so much so that he has to react quickly to steady me, both his warm hands gripping my shoulders before one lets go .

“I’m so sorry,” I rush to say as I straighten myself. Glancing behind me quickly, I make sure Junior isn’t watching. I don’t need him getting pissy about me drinking, or about another man touching me in any way.

“No problem. Glad I was here to help.”

My head whips back around, eyes widening and heart stuttering at the sound of his voice. So familiar yet foreign at the same time. Calm but laced with a hint of pain and anguish. No fucking way… How is he…

I stumble back as I take him in, his hand holding on to my upper arm to steady me once more. I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe. What is he doing here, or an even better question…what the ever-loving hell was in that champagne?

“You okay…Doll?” he asks, and that endearment has my blood simmering. I can see his eyes shining with emotion, but it’s not the same reflected in mine.

There is no way he’s here right now; I must be dreaming.

How many times I’ve imagined his face…and this is how he chooses to address me after three fucking years of silence.

“How dare you fucking call me that.” My eyes instantly well with tears as I push past him and dart to the bathroom.

Locking myself in one of the stalls, I try to regain my composure.

“Motherfucker!” I yell through my hands covering my face.

How could he… No, how dare he show up like it’s nothing, when all along, the ghost of him has been haunting me every moment of every day.

After several calming breaths, my mask slips back into place. I can't reveal any emotions toward him—not now, at least. There are eyes on me constantly, especially when we’re out at an event like this. One lingering glance too many, and who knows what type of questions I’ll have to answer. Even though I want to wring his frickin’ neck, I must protect him.

Once I’ve made sure my face is free of tears, I walk out of the bathroom. Only to stop dead in my tracks when I spot Trent leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway. It’s clear he waited for me, and as soon as he sees me, he strolls my way.

“You can’t be here,” I say through clenched teeth. I’m barely keeping it together.

“I have an invitation,” Trent responds, way too casually.

“Trent, please…not here,” I beg, hearing my heart beating in my ears. I take in his handsome face, wanting to trace every feature, and his green eyes lock with mine. His gaze darts to my red-painted lips as I bite it between my teeth, trying to contain myself.Just his proximity is enough to make me dizzy after all this time…but my fear is greater.

Taking a step around him, he grabs my hand, pulling my attention back with a jolt of his light touch. “How else was I going to see you?” His voice is full of anguish, and I feel it deep in my soul. I’m at war with my emotions. I’ve been so hurt by him, but how can I not want to feel the comfort of his embrace after all this time? I have to physically force myself to not wrap my arms around him and pull him close with no intention of letting go.

I can’t do this. He’s going to get us both killed with all of Junior’s men in the building tonight, and I know if I stay any longer, there’s no doubt my feelings for this man, who isn’t my husband, will be evident for all to witness.

When I spot a woman walking down the hall in our direction, presumably to the bathrooms we’re blocking, my moment of taking chances is over.

“Well, enjoy the party, Mr. Manning. I hope we speak soon,” I say with the same tight smile I’ve given everyone else tonight. I hope he realizes I'm telling him to reach out to me. Hope he can read between the lines, can see through the smile and detect the misery there.

Nodding at Trent, I take a step around him to head back to the party. I need to get out of here. Maybe I can fake a headache. But what if this is the only chance I get to see him, to talk to him?

No, no, no. It’s too dangerous to stay here, being this close to him.

As our shoulders brush, his hand reaches for mine again. Trent’s fingers glide over the palm of my hand in the lightest caress. My heart flutters back to life in a whole new way, calming my nerves, feeling his skin on mine for the first time in what feels like forever. One more time, I allow my eyes to meet his. He nods subtly, reassuringly, and our hands fall away.

The headache I had planned to fake is now coming to fruition. I need to get as far away from this place and fast. I know the repercussions if I were to get caught talking to another man in the presence of Junior or his men. As I walk out of the bathroom hallway, I find Luca waiting patiently for me. I nearly sigh in relief that it’s him instead of another one of Junior’s men. His recent presence in my life has been a blessing. I know when he’s around, I have nothing to fear. His size alone would scare even the toughest of men. Don’t let his warm brown eyes fool you; he’s a machine.

“I need to go home. I have a migraine coming on,” I say as I continue toward the table to collect my things .

“I’ll let them know,” Luca says, then whispers something into his earpiece.

Once at the table, I grab my clutch and my shawl, then peek around for Junior. I’d rather the news of me leaving come from my lips and not from his henchmen. I spot him at the bar, trying to flirt with a young and gorgeous redhead. She seems completely disinterested in his advances, and I chuckle inwardly that she’s not giving him the time of day like most women who crave his power do.

“Junior, I'm heading home. I have a headache,” I say, not caring if I'm interrupting him.

“Uh huh, yeah, sure,” he babbles, not at all listening, but instead focusing on the redhead’s ass as she retreats. He finally looks in my direction and notices my belongings in my arms.

“Wait. Where are you going?” he questions. Welcome to the conversation, Mr. Santini.

“I have a headache. I’m going home.”

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he reads the message on the screen. I grow anxious as his face goes from its usual cruel expression to one of pure murder. As he contemplates something, his hand rubs at his chin.

“I’m needed at Sinners. Luca will drop you off at home.”

I just want to get home and as far away from Trent as possible. I can’t bear to even look around the ballroom, in fear of locking eyes with him again. I don’t think I’m strong enough to not have a breakdown right here in the middle of the room.

Joey and Luca approach Junior and I, Vito and a few other men following behind. Damn, they’re all leaving… I wonder what happened .

We all make our way to the venue exit, me on shaky legs. It’s a chilly October night, so Vito tells the drivers we’re ready to leave as we wait in the vestibule. I wrap my shawl around my body, preparing for the cold.

Just as we’re about to head out the door, I spot Trent and Trevor walking toward the exit. A concerned look is etched onto his face, and it has my stomach twisting. What’s going on here? Why is he coming this close to us? He should know better…

Before I can think any more about it, chaos ensues. Or, more like a nightmare.

The sounds of breaking glass and shouting fill the air, layered with the loud pops of gunfire ringing out around us. With no time to run or hide, I hear a bullet whizzing by my head, and I try to turn quickly to duck away, but my damn heel gets caught in the entryway rug. I cry out as someone grabs hold of my hand and pulls me toward them onto the floor. His hard body covers mine and a familiar scent envelops me.

Even in this moment, riddled with shock and terror, my body comes alive. Every piece of me that’s been lying dormant surfaces beneath the weight of Trent’s embrace.