The woman's recklessness. The man's relentless reach. The way he protected her. The way she still moved as though she knew—absolutely knew—he would be there when it mattered.
It struck too close. It was her and Luca in a dance. By the time the dancers hit their final dramatic hold and the room burst into applause, tears were already sliding down Veronica's cheeks.
Luca turned immediately. "Bambola?" he whispered.
Veronica laughed through it, already swiping furiously at her face with the tips of her fingers. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's your damned baby." She sniffled and shook her head. "I'm going to ruin my makeup."
"You'll still look gorgeous."
Veronica shot him a wet, unimpressed look. "You're still getting some tonight. Stop being a suck-up."
Around them, the room began settling again as the applause faded. Guests murmured to one another.
The lights rose once more. Don Genovese himself stepped into the center of the ballroom.
