“Smile,” Gian whispered next to my ear. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” I muttered.
Carmela held up two flutes with our names etched into the glass. “Gian. Evie.”
I accepted the glass from her, and yeah, it was awkward. I did my best to avoid direct eye contact with her and anyone else in the room. Unfortunately, a man with his forearm resting on the fireplace mantel had a different agenda. His cold, dark, glittering eyes zeroed in on me like a bird of prey, calculating my weaknesses and extracting my secrets. The heat of his stare burned through me like the fire of a thousand suns. Goose bumps spiraled down my arms.
He cleared his throat. “As the head of this family, I’d like to make a toast.”
Almost as if this man were Moses parting the Red Sea, a hush fell over the room, and everyone lined up like good little toy soldiers.
I leaned into Gian. “Is that your dad?”
“No. My uncle, Dominick. Why?”
“Just wondering, because that man sure as hell doesn’t look sick.” His arms and shoulders, although bulky, didn’t disguise the muscles straining and pulling against the seams of his custom-tailored suit. He had the right amount of gray to achieve a distinguished salt and pepper look. While he was shorter than Gian, he didn’t need height to make an impression. His eyes alone would scare the shit out of anyone—maybe even Lucifer.
“Gianluca, I’ve told you this many times, and I’ll repeat it again now. I am proud to call you my nephew and my godson. You know I’d do anything for you. Anything. Now that you’re taking the next step in your life, I have every faith that you’ve chosen well. I have a few words of counsel for you and the lovely Evangeline.” He rotated his square chin to the side, his lips flat and lifeless. “You earn respect from your spouse with actions, not words. Always respect and listen to her because a real man takes care of his family. Be careful of lines crossed that can never be uncrossed. Every betrayal starts with trust. Every enemy starts as a friend. Every lie has a grain of truth. Behind every sin is a sinner.” He lifted his glass, and the entire room followed like minions eager to implement their evil leader’s plan. “May your days be numerous and your troubles trivial. Famigila per cent’anni!”
Dominick’s stare never wavered from mine as his rubbery lips engulfed the rim of his glass. Then he laughed—though, he hadn’t said anything funny. I forced myself to meet his deadened gaze, trying to bury my fear. Like a snake preparing to strike, his lips curled upward, and he made a slashing motion with his hand across his neck. The air went from festive to heavy with tension. I couldn’t get enough oxygen in my lungs.
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
What the hell am I doing? This is insane. These people are certifiably crazy.
Gian kissed my temple and tapped his glass against mine. “Drink, sweetheart, or you’ll insult my uncle.”
With more than a little tremor in my hand, I raised the glass to my lips and took a giant sip of the champagne, craving immediate anesthetization. I didn’t taste anything. It could have been a glass of arsenic, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
The sugary bubbles clung to the walls of my throat, suffocating me. My eyes flared, and for a second, I seriously thought the drink would make a less than graceful reappearance on the spotless ivory Aubusson rug beneath my feet.
My emotions seesawed from breakdown to out of control laughter and back again with alarming frequency. Frost coated the walls of my veins, only to be replaced with scalding heat a few seconds later. My vision muddied. Fleetingly, I remembered I hadn’t eaten all day. Voices became garbled like someone had shoved my face under water. My body swayed, and I clawed at the sleeve of Gian’s suit jacket.
“Gian,” I rasped, and everything went black.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Gian
I paced back and forth at the foot of the bed in my childhood home. The plush tan carpet swallowed the sound of my black wingtips. This was a disaster. Evie fucking fainted in front of the entire family. She really knew how to clear out a party. Unfortunately, my mom now had it in her head that Evie was pregnant.
“I really am sorry, Gian. I didn’t do it intentionally.” Evie sat with her back to the headboard and her knees curled against her chest. “I don’t know what happened. Your uncle’s speech freaked me out, and I didn’t eat all day. Then, I don’t know…” She swallowed. “Did I screw everything up? I feel like a total loser.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into my arms without saying anything. I wanted to make sure she was really okay. When she swayed forward, my heart nearly burst through my fucking ribcage. I rocked her, comforting her and myself. It never failed. Every time something happened to her, a weird feeling bubbled up in my chest, compelling me to protect her from everything bad in the world. The urge was preposterous because by anyone’s definition I was the big black wolf in sheep’s clothing.