Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“My apologies,” he said, though his tone suggested he was anything but sorry. “I forget my manners sometimes.”
I kept my face carefully composed, even as my heart thundered against my rib cage.
Matteo turned to me, his expression softening marginally. “That’s my dear younger brother. Adrian Salvatore,” Matteo introduced, his tone formal but with an underlying current of warning. “You have to excuse his rudeness. He is always like this.”
He placed his hand over mine on the table, a touch that was so unexpected that it shocked me to my core. We were betrothed, yes. Our wedding was in six weeks. I didn’t know what about his touch made me feel… awkward.
A tensed shiver slid down my spine.
His hand tightened around mine. A possessive gesture that didn’t escape anyone’s notice.
Especially Adrian’s.
His gaze shifted to our entwined hands and his despicable smirk widened, revealing perfect white teeth.
There was something cruel about him. A savage attractiveness that I was starting to detest.
“Forgive me, truly,” Adrian purred. “I promise there was nothing critical about my comment. No offense intended.”
Yeah… lies.
He meant to be derogatory on purpose.
Men like him thrived on making others uncomfortable. It was all a power-play.
“Manners were never taught in the Salvatore household, it seems,” Damon interjected, his voice a cold slice through the tension. “Or perhaps only the younger son missed those lessons.”
Adrian’s eyes flashed dangerously as he shifted his attention to my brother. “And the Morelli men are so civil and cultured? Tell me, Damon, how many bones have been broken and how many bodies have you buried with those well-mannered hands of yours?”
“At least I know how to conduct myself at a dinner table,” Damon snapped. “Unlike some who think antagonizing an innocent woman makes them appear superior or clever.”
He spat the word clever, as if it tasted foul on his tongue. As if the word was too much to describe Adrian Salvatore.
“Antagonizing?” Adrian laughed, the sound hollow and sharp. “I was simply making conversation. Your dear sister doesn’t seem nearly as delicate as you think.”
His eyes landed on me again. He ran his tongue over his teeth in the most crude way I could imagine him doing in the presence of our families. “Unless she wants to be antagonized by me…”
Damon’s knuckles whitened around his knife. Oh my God, I worried my brother was going to stab Adrian and end this foolish treaty before it could even take effect.
No, Damon was too smart for that. He had to be. “You better watch your mouth—”
“And that is enough,” my father snapped, instantly shutting down the argument. “We are here to celebrate a union, not create further division. Damon is just protective of his sister, but I’m sure Serafina wasn’t troubled by Adrian’s words. Right?”
“Yes, no offense taken,” I responded as ever politely.
Enzo cleared his throat. “Santino is right. Let us remember why we’re here.” He cast a disapproving glance at his younger son before raising his wine glass. “To a new beginning and stronger alliances.”
My father raised his glass in response, his expression unreadable. “To the union of our families.”
Everyone around the table raised their glasses in unison. I lifted my own glass, the crystal cool against my fingers, and took a delicate sip. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken animosity. Matteo’s grip tightened fractionally on my hand, a warning or perhaps reassurance; I couldn’t tell which before he let go.
The servers entered then, a parade of white-gloved staff carrying silver platters. The first course was a delicate seafood appetizer arranged with artistic precision.
“So, tell us, Serafina,” Enzo started, surely to make some kind of conversation and to end this dreaded silence. “Six years is a long time to be away from family. What have you been up to in California?”
“Studying, mostly.” I took a small bite of my appetizer. “Though I did develop an appreciation for the ocean. I spent a lot of my time at the seaside. There’s something utterly compelling about standing at the edge of something so vast. Mysterious. Undiscovered. It’s so beautiful and serene.”
“How poetic,” Adrian muttered under his breath, but loud enough for the whole table to hear. “I’ve always found that the most treacherous things are the ones that appear beautiful on the surface.”
“Like family dinners?” I shot back before I could possibly stop myself. What was it about him that seemed to make me lose my composure?
The way he stared at me so crudely, his conceited words, and his arrogant actions… everything about him was so damn infuriating.
A flash of surprise crossed his face at my words, quickly replaced by genuine amusement. “Exactly, like family dinners,” he agreed, raising his wine glass slightly in my direction. “To treacherous beauty and dangerous loyalty.”
“Adrian, how typical of you to take over the conversation. Will you give the rest of us a chance to get to know Serafina?”