Ruthless Prince (Dark Syndicate 1)

He sees her watching and takes my hand, but he doesn’t look at me.

The fundraiser is being held at Stanford Hall, a place reserved for the rich and the famous. Tonight’s fundraiser is similar to the charity ball. This one is in aid of the Children Society.

We walk up large stone steps with pillars going up to the doors. When we step through the large oak doors, Massimo takes me aside to a little break room near the foyer, probably to lay down the law on me again.

“We’re not going to be here for long,” he begins.

“I thought we’d stay for the night.”

“No, an hour, tops. Maybe less.”

I didn’t know that he planned to leave so soon. “Why?”

“You ask too many questions, Princesca.”

“Can’t we just go out on a normal date?” I throw back. He looks at me, su

rprised.

“This isn’t a date. This is a business arrangement.”

“I’m sorry, are you talking about the fundraiser or me?” Why did I bother to ask? As if I don’t know the answer.

“Watch it, Emelia. I’m not in the mood tonight to argue about shit. Like I said, we’re here for an hour, tops. You have five minutes with your father. No more. Other than that, you mustn’t leave my side.”

He always has a way of spoiling things. I don’t bother to encourage this argument because I know I won’t win, so when he reaches out his hand to me, I take it. We leave the room, and Tristan approaches us.

“Hey,” he says to Massimo, but to me he offers a kind smile and tips his head reverently. It surprises me.

“Hey, there,” Massimo answers him.

“Riccardo is here. Arrived ten minutes ago,” Tristan informs us and glances at me cautiously.

Dad is here. I can’t believe I’ve been in the States for the last three weeks and haven’t seen him.

“Massimo, there are a few undesirables here too. Nothing we can’t handle. Just thought you should know.”

Massimo’s brow creases. Instantly, I wonder if there’s trouble. “Tristan, if shit happens, you take Emelia and go.”

I glance up at Massimo.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Tristan says, and with a nod leaves us.

I tug on Massimo’s hand. He looks at me. “Is something happening?” I ask. Maybe that’s why he’s been so tense.

He reaches out and touches my face briefly. “No. Nothing to worry about.”

When we enter the hall, I see Dad. He’s the first person my eyes go to. He’s standing by the drinks table in the far corner talking with a tall, bulky Italian man who looks like he could be a wrestler. Dad sees me too, and I can’t deny that my heart lifts at the sight of him. It lifts then falters in the same breath as I recall how he sold me and ruined my dreams.

Massimo and I walk toward the middle, and so does he. We stop when we meet in the middle. I notice the way how Dad completely ignores Massimo for as long as possible until he’s forced by the awkwardness to look at him.

“Are you at least going to allow me to speak to my daughter, or is this a display of power?” Dad asks.

Massimo doesn’t answer him. Instead, he focuses on me and says, “Five minutes. I’ll come and get you in five minutes.”

I nod, agreeing, and he leaves us.

“Come, I wouldn’t want to waste the little time we have,” Dad sneers in a mocking voice.