Chapter 5 - THE DEVIL'S GALA
With Evans gone and the poison stopped, Elena’s recovery was rapid and miraculous. The color returned to her cheeks, and the laughter echoed in the grim hallways of the mansion. But the threat was far from over. Lorenzo Vitali, Nico's uncle, was a powerful capo in the family. Nico couldn't just execute him without proof that the rest of the Commission would accept. A silent war began.
To keep up appearances and flush out Lorenzo's allies, Nico threw an extravagant charity gala at a downtown hotel. It was a show of power, a declaration that the Vitali family was untouchable.
And he insisted I go with him.
"I am her nurse, not your arm candy," I protested as his tailor fussed over a stunning, backless emerald gown he had ordered for me.
"You are the woman living in my house," Nico corrected, stepping into the fitting room. He was wearing a pitch-black tuxedo that made him look devastatingly lethal. "The streets are talking. They think you are my mistress. I want them to keep thinking that. As long as they look at you as my weakness, they won't realize you are Elena's shield."
"Fake dating a mob boss to catch an assassin. My nursing instructors really left this part out of the syllabus," I muttered.
Nico chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down my spine. He stepped behind me, his gaze meeting mine in the mirror. He reached out, clasping a heavy diamond necklace around my throat. His fingers lingered on my bare skin.
"Tonight, you don't leave my side," he ordered quietly. "Do you understand me, Clara?"
The gala was a glittering nightmare. Hundreds of people, champagne, classical music, and the constant, underlying tension of violence. Every man who shook Nico's hand looked like they wanted to stab him; every woman looked at me with venomous jealousy.
Through it all, Nico kept a possessive hand on the small of my back. When we danced, he pulled me flush against him, our bodies moving in perfect, scandalous synchronization. I felt the hard line of his gun against my hip, a stark reminder of reality.
"You're trembling," he whispered, his lips grazing my ear on the dance floor.
"I'm not used to being prey," I shot back, gripping his shoulder.
"You're not prey," he vowed, his eyes burning into mine. "You are with me. And no one touches what is mine."
May you like
The line between the act and reality was blurring, and as he dipped me, his lips brushing against mine in a breath-stealing almost-kiss, I realized with terrifying clarity that I was falling in love with a monster.
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