CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: WINTER
Ineverthoughta pretty, expensive dress would perk me up, but as I look at myself in the mirror I know I look gorgeous, and that feels… good.
I still don’t feel so hot, my brain is a mess, but I don’t think it affects my appearance. I have on the dress that Daria picked out for me when we were at the mall, and the small silver flats keep me from having to deal with aching feet. My hair is simple, soft curls from a braid out.
The cool air is blowing in the bathroom of the fancy hotel that Daria’s engagement party is taking place at. And I feel at peace, in a bathroom of all places.
But I know it’ll only be a matter of seconds before someone comes searching for me. I make my way out of the bathroom, following the sound of music to the main hall.
My eyes instantly look for the four men I came here with tonight and it isn’t hard to find them.
Giovanni is in the back, talking with the groom to be, who for his part, doesn’t look as if he was chained and drug here. But he doesn’t look excited to be getting married either.
Vito is on the opposite side of the room, by the drink table, and he’s talking to an older gentleman. The man gives him a pat on the back, letting out a laugh at something that Vito said.
Enzo is lingering by the doors, far away from…
Maximo.
I find him easily. He’s taller than most people in the room and his energy doesn’t allow him to be ignored. His suit is tucked against his body, making him look prim and proper but the look in his eyes is anything but that.
He hasn’t tried to hurt me, which was surprising after seeing him for the first time since he pulled a gun on Enzo. Speaking of which, the two have been pointedly keeping their distance from each other all night. Or at least, Enzo has been staying away from Maximo while Maximo tries to get as close to him as possible.
Anytime Maximo moves within five feet of him, Enzo moves to a new spot in the room. And Maximo gets that murderous look in his eyes before seemingly calming himself.
It seems like he’s given up on trying to get Enzo’s attention through close proximity. He’s trying other methods, methods that don’t seem smart, considering he and Enzo seem to be into it over being intimate with people other than each other.
I watch him and I think that he feels my gaze on him because his eyes meet mine from across the room. An uncomfortable feeling moves through me as I watch him dance his fingers over Isabella’s shoulder. I like the woman, she was nice when we went to the spa and mall together, even if I was a little skeptical of her at first.
Still, she’d proven to be nice and funny.
But right now, I want to rip her pretty black hair from her head.
And I have no idea where the urge is coming from. It’s stupid and makes no sense, considering I was just worried about Maximo possibly killing me and I’ve been in a depressive funk for weeks now.
I let my eyes move over to Enzo. To anyone else, he probably just looks like a guard doing his duty but even from across the room I can see the tension in his body.
I grab a shot glass from one of the passing waiters, tipping the glass up to my lips and letting the strong liquid rush down my throat. I’m not sure if tonight is one of those days that I have permission to drink like the adult that I am, but frankly, I don’t care.
I’ve basically been on my own for weeks now and I’m tired of playing by all these rules, tired of being treated like a doormat.
“Woah, you look like you could use a sedative or two.” Someone says from beside me and I look over to find a slightly familiar man standing beside me.
He’s handsome, to say the least. His hair is a fiery orange, his ocean blue eyes dancing with mirth as he watches me. He has a champagne glass in his hand and he sips from it as he continues to watch me.
“Or maybe a little fun could change things up for you?” he says slowly after he moves the glass away from his lips.
I know what he’s insinuating and while he’s more than attractive, I don’t necessarily feel the urge to jump his bones. I only ever have that urge with the Costa men.
I guess people who try to kill me is what really gets me going.
Yet…
My eyes move across the room where Maximo is watching me. Isabella is still talking to him but he’s pretending as if she doesn’t exist, keeping his gaze steady on me. His eyes move over to the man beside me before he raises a brow.
“Maybe,” I mutter back to the man.
A rush of power moves through me and I suddenly realize why Maximo is doing exactly what he’s doing right now. Why he persistently does it to Enzo. The control, the power, the adrenaline of playing with someone else could easily go to one’s head.