Anna stared back at me coldly. “I deleted the video of Leonas in case you’re looking for it.”
“I bet you downloaded it to your phone first since you’re so fond of blackmailing others.”
She sat up and the look in her eyes could have frozen hell and didn’t match the sweet smile twisting those dangerous lips.
“As long as I can have fun blackmailing you, I’m happy.”
Frosty.
That was the word that described my interactions with Santino in the following weeks.
I was furious. Santino was even more furious.
Neither of us would back down. As usual.
That’s why we hadn’t shared a word except for public pleasantries when my engagement to Clifford rolled around at the start of October. Luckily, I had been busy with preparations for my engagement party, eighteenth birthday party and my move to Paris. Provoking Santino had been the least of my worries. And if I really felt like riling him up, I still had the option of telling him about the photo I took of him and dear Dolora.
We celebrated the engagement at our home. High tables and buffet tables were still arranged in our living room and the yard from my eighteenth birthday party the day before. Though party was the wrong word for the social gathering my parents had prepared. It was a soiree that required me to smile politely and engage in small talk. Definitely not the excitement I’d hoped for. I promised myself to party once I was in Paris, away from prying eyes. Santino could sulk all he wanted, I’d have the time of my life in Paris.
I’d picked a white cocktail dress for the occasion, trying to play the good mafia princess everyone wanted me to be. Santino didn’t react to my choice of color. Usually he would have commented on it, but he was being overly professional these days.
His vigilant mask didn’t crack in the slightest when Mrs. Clark entered the room at her husband’s side. Heat traveled up my throat. I wasn’t sure if she knew that I’d caught her with Santino. I was pretty sure Clifford was unaware of his mother’s extramarital activities and I had no intention to tell him. It would only cast a bad light on the Outfit. My loyalties didn’t lie with Clifford but with my family, and I doubted that would ever change. He was a means to an end, and so was I for him.
My family greeted the Clarks under the watchful eyes of our guests. We had invited people from the political elite as well as important families from the Outfit. Of course, the press was invited as well. Clark Senior had insisted on it. His entire life played out before cameras.
Clifford gave me a tense smile. In his form-fitting suit, he looked really dapper. He’d even cut his sonny boy hair short.
“You cut your hair,” I murmured.
“My father thought it would look better on camera.”
I nodded, though I didn’t agree. Then my gaze dragged over to Mrs. Clark who kept looking at Santino. If she kept it up, someone would eventually realize something was going on between them. I really hoped Santino would have the decency to keep his hands to himself today. If he dared banging her at my engagement party, I wouldn’t have to tell Dad about Santino’s sexual activities, I’d kill him myself.
Fury sizzled in my belly.
I’d thought I was over my anger, but seeing Mrs. Clark now, I realized my jealousy still burned brightly. It was a very sobering realization.
I tore my gaze away and motioned Clifford to follow me to the fireplace. Dad and Mr. Clark stepped in front of our guests and shook hands, then Dad addressed the crowd, officially announcing my engagement to Clifford.
Sofia caught my eyes across the room. She stood beside her husband Danilo. They seemed to have overcome some of their difficulties from the beginning of their bond. Before my birthday party, I hadn’t seen her in almost two months. I could tell that she was eager for a conversation. Talking over the phone was always risky so I hadn’t been able to share details of my recent interactions with Santino with her yet.
After a few photos of our families, and Clifford and I holding hands and smiling at each other, the guests began to swarm around us to congratulate us. There was curiosity in the eyes of many, especially the political guests, while wariness lingered on the faces of many Made Men and their families. I knew my marriage to Clifford was a very controversial topic in the Outfit, but I trusted in Mom’s and Dad’s judgment regarding the bond.
Eventually the constant hand-shaking and small talk got overwhelming, even for someone as accustomed to it as me.
Clifford gave me a look that suggested he felt the same way. “The photographers must have taken a billion photos of us by now.”