“Maxim,” Damir said, gesturing him over. “This is Capri Balestra. She’d like a dance.”
Maxim’s lips quirked and his eyes sparkled. “Was that her suggestion?” he asked.
Damir grunted. “Don’t be fresh. Dance with the girl.” He turned and strode off, rejoining my father on the edge of the crowd.
I stared up at Maxim, my stomach knotted.
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“You as well.” He reached out a hand.
I accepted it. We shook.
“I guess we should dance?”
He sighed and led me onto the floor. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be paired with him either, but at least I was hiding it better.
He held my left hand in his right and placed his left on the curve of my hip. I rested my right on his shoulder, and we moved with the music, falling into the crowd. It was uncomfortable and awkward, and I felt like everyone was staring.
“Can I ask you something?” he said as we made a circuit.
“I hope so,” I said. “Since apparently we’re getting married.”
He snorted, eyes sparkling. “Did your father give you a choice?”
I clenched my jaw and tightened my grip on his hand. “Is that your question?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Will it matter one way or the other?”
“Yes, it will.”
I tilted my chin up. “Then no, he didn’t.”
He sighed and nodded. “Thought as much.”
“What, this is optional for you?”
“My father can’t force me into a marriage.”
I laughed. The idea was preposterous. “Lucky you then. I don’t have that luxury.”
He seemed uncomfortable for a moment and glanced down at the floor. “Capri, I don’t mean to be rude, but—” He paused, sucked in a breath, and let it out. “I’m not interested in marrying an unwilling woman. Do you understand?”
Sudden fear lanced my heart. If I messed this up now, Dad would be livid. He’d beat the living hell out of me, and I wasn’t sure if I’d survive the encounter. Maxim was being kind and trying to give me an out of this situation, but I couldn’t blow this marriage thing up, not right now. I needed freedom and access if I was going to keep helping Mal.
God, Mal. The thought of him shattered me. Here I was, dancing with another man, talking about marrying him, when all I wanted in this world was to find Mal and kiss him in some dirty, dark alleyway.
“No, please, you misunderstand me,” I said quickly, trying to cover up my discomfort. “I don’t mean that I don’t want to marry you, only that—” I bit my cheek and shook my head. “I just mean, I’m willing to do it. For my family.”
“I see.” He looked at me, head tilted. “When my father mentioned this arrangement, I was against it at first. I’d heard about you. I heard about the things that happened with your father and Falsone. I heard how you played your part. I wasn’t interested in getting involved. And yet meeting you now, I wonder.”
I nearly lost a step, but Maxim kept up and helped me stumble along. “You heard about me? What does that mean?”
“You seem like a nice person. And I’ll admit, I know this is somewhat awkward to say, but you are an attractive girl. It wouldn’t be so bad, marrying you. But I know your secret. I know how you helped your father. And I’m curious why you did it. Because if I’m going to marry you, I’d like to know why you turned your back on the last boy you were engaged to. For my own safety, you understand.”
I stopped. Right there, in the middle of the dance floor, I stopped. He looked down at me in confusion as I stared at him, my jaw hanging open.
“How I… helped my father?” The words barely squeezed from my throat.
“Capri,” he said softly. “They’re watching.”
I snapped back to him and we resumed the dance. I felt my father’s eyes staring into my body and I wanted to shrink into a tiny black hole and disappear from existence. What the hell was he talking about? I never betrayed Carmine. I had nothing to do with my father killing the Falsone family and usurping their power. All of that happened without me, while I was locked in my room, beaten half to death. I wanted to cry and retch at the thought of being implicated in what happened, but I had to keep going. I had to push on. For Mal and Carmine. And for me.
“What do you mean, I helped my father?” I asked, my voice a harsh whisper. I leaned closer to him, to make it look as though our dancing had gotten more intimate, when really, I wanted to hide my lips from my father’s men in case they tried to read what I was saying.
Maxim seemed to understand. He turned his mouth and spoke into my ear. “The numbers. He bragged about the numbers you gave him. He said they were the key.”