“We should go now,” she said. “I don’t want to miss the grand entry. The furies will only think I’m slinking in because I’m afraid.”
The ride to the apartment building where the mayor celebrated his party took only fifteen minutes. Marcella and I didn’t talk, but she clutched my hand and I was trying to get past my feeling of discomfort riding in a limousine. I’d never been a good co-driver. I preferred to be in control.
When we parked in the underground garage of the building, Marcella remained seated.
I leaned over to her, meeting her focused gaze. Deep in her blue eyes, I saw the fear she battled like a warrior. “If you want to leave, you give me a sign and I’ll whisk you away. Okay?”
She smiled and gave a sharp nod. I got out and opened the door for her, helping her to get out then I released her hand even if it was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to show the world that Marcella was mine but not before she was ready. Her family had already driven ahead. Their presence would hopefully lessen the impact of Marcella’s appearance.
In the elevator that took us up to the roof terrace where the party was taking place, Marcella clutched my hand in a death grip. I loosened my hold when we arrived on the top floor. We weren’t officially an item and I wouldn’t be the one to make it public. That was Marcella’s decision.
After a moment of hesitation, she released me and straightened even more. The doors glided open and I stepped out, checking the perimeter. The penthouse was bustling with people. I recognized a few faces, politicians, local socialites, billionaires and Famiglia members. Everyone’s eyes zoomed in on me, the black sheep among all of these fake white lambs. I gave Marcella a nod, pretending to be the perfect bodyguard.
I could see it in the faces of so many of the women gathered in the room that they had hoped to bear witness to the dethroning of Marcella Vitiello today. The eagerness and schadenfreude in their expressions said more about their horrible characters than they probably realized. Maybe they’d hoped to find a broken, ashamed and submissive Marcella after what had happened. But when Marcella entered the room with her head held high, looking like a fucking apparition in her plum dress and her matching Louboutins, she humbled them all. Marcella hadn’t come to cower or hide, she’d come to fucking rule. Those cold blue eyes that had frozen my blood in the beginning and later set it aflame, now coldly regarded all the spectators ready to gloat.
I smiled grimly as the faces of some of the women fell, transforming to shock. Marcella glided through the room, nodding greetings at the mayor and whoever else had the guts to meet her gaze. Her phoenix ear cuff was on display as was her tattoo.
I walked a couple of steps behind her, keeping a close eye on the people around. I felt a sickening satisfaction when some people backed away fearfully. I was like a wild beast to them, untamed, not bound by their rules. They feared Luca Vitiello because of what they knew he was capable of. They feared me because they didn’t know what I was capable of. Fear of the unknown was something beautiful if used right.
Marcella took a glass of champagne from a tray one of the waiters offered to her but I shook my head, not a fan of the bubbly drink. I really wanted a beer. The moment Marcella came to a stop, a couple in their fiftieth approached her. Marcella tensed considerably but I doubted anyone but me noticed. She kept up her pleasant expression and nodded a greeting at the two.
“Marcella, it’s so good to see you healthy in body and mind after the horrors of the last few months,” the woman said, sounding insincere. Marcella must have heard it too, but she kept up the chitchat professionally.
“Giovanni has been very worried about you,” the man said, and my attention intensified. So they were the parents of Marcella’s ex. I did a quick scan of the room, trying to ignore all the curious and hostile looks I was getting from the guests. Finally, I spotted the guy I’d only seen on photos so far. He stood beside the buffet, talking to another man, but his eyes were focused on me. He narrowed his eyes when he caught my gaze.
I raised my eyebrows. Did he think his glower would intimidate me?
“I’ll grab a plate of food. Should I bring something for you?”
Marcella shook her head. “I’ll eat later.”
I nodded and crossed the room toward the buffet and Giovanni. He froze when he realized I was heading his way. His companion, too, looked ready to draw a gun on me. Of course, we now had Luca’s attention as well, and soon probably that of the rest of the room. Everyone was waiting for a scene that would make the headlines. I definitely wouldn’t cause it.