Celeste;
Heat travels through my entire body, thick foreboding curling in my lower back.
Despite it being the peak of winter—the coldest month in Palermo.
I chose an all-black dress, fully aware of the fact that that might be the color of Romano's outfit for dinner tonight. And I plan to match him in any way possible.
It's a simple flare dress that I easily slip into as the servants assist.
Matching dark heels with straps that reach my calves.
I didn't go for heavy makeup. Simple lip gloss and mascara that thickens my clustering lashes.
The only thing the servants have done is my hair, which is styled in a high ponytail with fancy clips to serve as aesthetics.
Silver accessories to match.
They'd wanted to trim my bangs. Imagine the insolence.
The glare I'd flung at them delivered more blow than any verbal threat would.
"You're all ready, miss," one of the two girls notifies, and I glance at the dresser mirror, pleased.
Flashing a show of teeth, "Thank you," I tell them.
At once, they bend at the waist in a bow as if the action was choreographed. And they leave.
Leaving me with a tight chest and hitching breath. "Pull yourself together, Poppy."
I do a mental skim through all the names Angelo had mentioned, and their fucked-up relationship to the Cosa Nostra.
Their family tree as well.
Dinner is at eight, and it's five minutes past when a knock rattles at my door.
A heavy feeling weighs on my chest, like a rock is suspended there.
Blinking away my distraught, I force vibrancy to my skin; kinda guessing who it is on the other side. "Come in," cool and sweet, I permit—even though I feel anything but.
My gaze rests on his tall figure. I haven't seen him for a day and a half. Fuck it, two days. That ball of anxiety tightening in my stomach.
"You're stunning," his voice settles in the pores of my skin, warming me.
"Thank you," I actually mean it.
He steps closer, reaching out a hand. Without reluctance, I place my palm in it, and with his other hand he wraps it around his biceps.
I suppress a blush while he leads us out, gently shutting the door.
"Black," I hear his quip between the clicking and thudding of our shoes against the marble.
Befuddled, my eyebrows scrunch with questions before it dawns on me what he means. My expression relaxes into a schoolgirl blush. "Yes."
"Bold choice." The ghost of a smile touches his mouth before disappearing. I guess he's pleased.
Silence accompanies us all the way.
Tension so thick I can feel it in my throat. Loud din and clatter of silverware permeate my ears. Mild conversation harbors the atmosphere.
I recognize Ruggiero's voice.
As if Romano feels my inner turmoil, he adjusts my palm and gives it a firm squeeze. I focus on the masculinity of his grip—all callouses and roughness.
"How are your extended family members like?" I can't believe the way my voice trembles as it rolls out. It does good for the pretense…but damn that weakness.
His head inclines down in my direction, lazy pupils assessing me for a second. He clips, "You'll find out in a while, Piccola mia."
Fuck him.
Battling the urge to glare at him, I acquiesce.
We finally make an appearance and I literally bristle at the pairs of eyes that leave everything forgotten and stare at us. Me.
All twenty-five pairs of them.
My heart lurches.
Romano's expression hardens. Morphing into the man I'd met in that clearing during the ambush.
Seems there's more to this than meets the eye.
I believe his change in demeanor in the presence of his family is a part of some power play.
I hide a smirk at the recent information—except the one that the men in the mansion use only a two-way radio on duty.
Playing ignorance at Romano's major change, I follow suit. I mean, because why not?
He draws out a chair for me and I wait till he slides it back before lowering myself. Doing everything in my willpower to ignore the burn of the twenty-five pairs of eyes on me.
Yet in my attempt, I can't help but scan the crowd for a very particular one.
I don't find it.
I resist the foreign sinking feeling that flows all the way to my guts.
"Father," Romano nods in respectful acknowledgement after he takes his seat beside me, and who I suspect is his uncle—the resemblance to Ruggiero is alarmingly striking.
In this kind of setting, I don't know what to do. If I should breathe, move, or just barely...exist.
"Been ages since we had a reunion as happy as this one," an accented gruff voice initiates.
Rumbles of chuckles follow.
Happy my ass. I can swear none of them are here without weapons buried in their underwear or something.
"Thanks to Romano, I suppose." One from the opposite side of the gigantic table speaks. He has gray hair and a five-day-old scruff.
Ruggiero clicks his tongue—the action filled with pride.
"We all know what we're gathered for," he starts.
But only the elder ones seem to pay him any attention—their kids however…except the men of the family though—Romano and Caruso's cousins.
"It's been long overdue," Ruggiero's gaze lands on Romano with a glint that makes my spine shudder.
"My successor finally listens to me." His smile is crooked.
"We heard she's a Montagna." Another gruff voice echoes, but with an edge in his tone.
My gaze finds him, and my blood runs cold by the look he's already giving me. I swallow, pinning him with an undecipherable stare of my own.
What's his shit?
His eyes narrow at me, and his bearded mouth spouts, "But I see no Montagna here."
A ripple of murmurs spreads across the table. Heads tilt, some eyes narrow. The air tightens like a vise around me.
My heart immediately picks up pace. I swallow, pinning him with an inscrutable gaze.
Romano goes completely still beside me, his jaw tightening. I can feel the shift in his presence—every muscle poised, ready.
For a second, the entire table goes unnaturally quiet.
Then, familiar booted footsteps echo, a haunting aura so thick it presses down on my chest as Caruso makes an appearance. A sick grin stretches across his lips—one that tells me he heard.
Those eyes look at me with dry amusement and something darker—something more terrifying than the scalding gazes everyone now appraises me with—Romano included.
There's no power outage to save me now. My bones chill.