I dreamt of Dante three nights in a row.
I couldn’t recall what happened in the dreams, but I woke up each morning with the phantom touch of his hands between my thighs and a tight ball of need in my stomach.
Cold showers only helped temporarily, and Dante’s absence while he was in California was both a blessing and a curse.
A blessing because I didn’t have to face him with amorphous memories of sex dreams running through my head.
A curse because without new interactions to distract me, all I could think about was our night in Valhalla’s library.
His grip on my neck. His fingers filling me as I shamelessly rode his hand to orgasm. The desire in his eyes as he watched me come apart in his arms, so hot and potent it’d almost driven me to the peak again.
A shiver that had nothing to do with the weather rolled over my body.
The day had dawned gray and drizzly, and while I usually only liked the rain when I was tucked snug and warm in my bed, I relished the chill today.
It cleared my thoughts—as much as they could be cleared anyway.
I checked my watch as I wound past the puddles gathering on the sidewalk, umbrella in hand. I’d finished lunch in record time since I wanted to browse Lohman & Sons before my next meeting at two.
It was the Russo Group’s largest jewelry subsidiary. Up until now, I mostly wore my family’s brand of jewels, my engagement ring notwithstanding, but since I was marrying a Russo, it made sense to add more of their products to my collection.
Rain and retail therapy. Two things guaranteed to take my mind off Dante.
The ring of my phone dragged me out of my thoughts before they took me down an unwanted path.
An unknown caller on my work phone. Unusual but not unheard of.
“This is Vivian.” I slipped into my professional voice and stopped in front of the Lohman & Sons entrance. An elegant older woman passed by with an immaculately groomed white poodle. Both wore matching quilted Chanel jackets.
Only on the Upper East Side.
“Vivian, dear, how are you?” Buffy’s throaty voice oozed over the phone. “This is Buffy Darlington.”
My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t talked to Buffy since her granddaughter’s birthday two weeks ago. The payments were settled, the contracts fulfilled. The Darlingtons seemed happy with the event, but then why would Buffy be calling me on a random Tuesday afternoon?
We were both active on the Manhattan social scene, but we ran in very different circles. We didn’t call each other just to chitchat.
“I’m well, thank you. How are you?”
“Wonderful. I heard you were at the Valhalla Club’s gala over the weekend. I was quite upset about missing it, but poor Balenciaga was having stomach issues and we had to rush him to the vet.”
Balenciaga was one of Buffy’s five prized Malteses, along with Prada, Givenchy, Chanel, and Dior. Each dog only wore clothing by the designer corresponding to their name. There’d been a whole spread about them in Mode de Vie two years ago.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said politely. “I hope Balenciaga’s feeling better.”
“Thank you. He’s doing much better now.” I heard the clatter of china in the background before Buffy spoke again. “While I can discuss my precious babies all day, I must admit, I have an ulterior motive for calling.”
I’d figured as much. People like Buffy didn’t contact you out of the blue unless you could do something for them.
“As you may know, I’m the chairwoman of the Legacy Ball committee this year. I’m in charge of the overall production, including choosing the host or hostess and guiding them through the planning process.”
My pulse spiked at the mention of the ball.
“Arabella Creighton was the hostess,” Buffy said. “But unfortunately, she had to resign from her position due to unforeseen circumstances.”
Unforeseen circumstances was an understatement. Arabella’s husband had been charged with embezzlement and corporate fraud over the weekend. Photos of the FBI marching him out of his Park Avenue townhouse in his pajamas had been splashed across all the front pages since Saturday.
Three days.
Buffy and the committee worked fast. The last thing they wanted was for any whiff of a scandal to taint the ball on their watch.
“As you can imagine, we’ve been frantic, considering the ball is only six months away. The event planning process requires extensive preparation, and we have to start from scratch again since Arabella’s work is…no longer tenable.”
Translation: they were going to pretend Arabella was never attached to the event because it looked bad for them.
“The ladies and I discussed possibilities as a new hostess, and I presented you as an option since you did such a wonderful job with Tippy’s party.”
“Thank you.” My pulse was in overdrive now.
I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but hosting the Legacy Ball would be a game-changer. It was the ultimate stamp of social approval.
“Some of the other members were resistant at first, since the Legacy Ball has traditionally been hosted by those who come from…a certain lineage.” A.k.a. two or more generations of wealth. My smile dimmed.
“However, you are engaged to Dante Russo. We have great respect for the Russo family, both present and future members, and after much deliberation, we’d like to formally invite you to be the new host of the Legacy Ball.”
A wisp of unease tugged at my stomach, but I pushed it aside. Hosting the ball was hosting the ball, regardless of the reasons behind it.
“I’d be honored and delighted to accept. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“Wonderful! I’ll send you the details later this afternoon. I’m looking forward to working with you again, Vivian. Oh, and please do say hi to Dante for me.”
Buffy hung up.
I closed my umbrella and entered Lohman & Sons, my skin buzzing with anticipation. Decor, catering, entertainment…there were so many possibilities given how big the ball’s budget was.
I’d planned on taking my two o’clock call at home, but I should head back to the office—
“Vivian?”
Surprise crept through me at the familiar brown eyes staring at me from behind the counter.
“Luca? What are you…” My question tapered off when a piece of an earlier conversation with Dante rose to the forefront of my mind.
What does he do now?
Salesman.
Of course. It made sense Luca was working at one of the Russo Group’s subsidiary stores, but it was still a shock to see him working at the very shop I dropped in on.
“Working hard.” A hint of dryness surfaced before it smoothed into a generic sales smile. “How can I help you?”
It felt odd being waited on by my future brother-in-law, but I didn’t want to make it weird by treating him differently.
“I’m looking for two new pieces,” I said. “A statement piece, and something versatile I can wear every day.”
For the next forty-five minutes, Luca walked me through the store’s finest offerings. He was actually an excellent salesperson—knowledgeable about the products and persuasive without being pushy.
“This is one of our newest pieces.” He retrieved a dazzling ruby and diamond dragon bracelet from the display case. “It consists of forty round and pear-shaped rubies weighing approximately four point five carats and thirty marquis, round, and pear-shaped diamonds weighing approximately four carats. It’s part of our Exclusive collection, which means there are only ten in existence. Queen Bridget of Eldorra owns the sapphire version.”
My breath caught. I’d grown up around jewels my entire life, and I recognized a standout piece when I saw it. The rubies were a pure, vibrant red with no orange or purple overtones, and the bracelet’s overall craftsmanship was exquisite.
“I’ll take it.”
Luca’s smile warmed a fraction of a degree. “Excellent.”
The cost of the bracelet and the discreet emerald earrings I’d chosen as an everyday piece totaled two hundred thousand, five hundred dollars.
I handed over my black Amex.
“You should come over for dinner soon,” I said as Luca processed the payment. “Dante and I would love to see you.”
A long pause, followed by a vague, “I’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”
Frustration needled at me. I hadn’t seen or talked to Luca since the engagement party. I couldn’t shake the sense he disliked me for some reason, and his cool reply confirmed it.
“Have I offended you in some way?” I had half an hour before my meeting and no time to beat around the bush. “I get the sense you don’t like me very much.”
Luca slid the sales receipt across the counter. I signed it and waited for an answer.
His work wasn’t the best place to have this conversation, but the rest of the customers had left, and the other staff members were out of earshot.
This was the best chance I had of getting a straight answer. I’d bet my new jewels he would go out of his way to avoid me if we weren’t forced to talk one on one.
“I don’t dislike you,” he finally said. “But I’m protective of my brother.
It’s always been the two of us, even when our grandfather was alive.”
Luca’s voice dropped. “I know Dante. He never wanted marriage. Then, one day, out of the blue, he announces he’s engaged? It’s not like him.”
A strange current ran beneath his words, like they were a mere cover for what he really wanted to say.
It made sense though, even if I was startled by how readily he’d answered. I’d expected him to deflect.
“And yes, I’m aware of the business side of the arrangement,” he said.
“But your family gets much more out of the deal than ours, does it not?”
Heat crawled down the back of my neck. Everyone knew Dante was
“marrying down,” but no one dared to say it to my face.
Except for his brother.
“I understand your concerns,” I said calmly. If Luca was trying to get a rise out of me, he wouldn’t succeed. “I’m not here to disrupt your relationship with Dante. He’ll always be, first and foremost, your brother.
But I’ll also be your sister-in-law soon, and I hope we can at least establish a civil rapport, for both ours and Dante’s sakes. We’ll see each other plenty at family functions in the future, including Thanksgiving, and I would hate for animosity to ruin a good meal.”
Luca stared at me, his surprise tangible. After a long, drawn-out moment, his face softened into a small but somewhat genuine smile.
“Dante got lucky,” he muttered. “It could’ve been a lot worse.”
My brows pulled together at the odd response. Before I could question him on it, an explosion of noise yanked my attention to the entrance.
My blood iced.
Three masked men stood by the door, two of them holding assault rifles and one holding a hammer and a duffel bag. One security guard lay unconscious on the floor next to them; the other faced down the barrel of a gun with his hands in the air.
“Everybody get on the fucking ground!” One of the men waved his gun while his accomplice smashed the glass of the nearest display. “Get down!”
Luca and the other two employees complied, their faces leached of color.
“Vivian,” Luca hissed. “Get down.”
I wanted to. Every instinct screamed at me to crawl into a corner and curl up until the danger was over, but my muscles refused to obey my brain’s commands.
I’d lived in New York for years, but I’d never experienced a mugging or assault. Sometimes, I’d watch the news and wonder how I’d react if I were caught in such a situation.
Now I knew.
Not well.
One second, I was signing receipts and talking to Luca. The next, the sight of the masked men had pressed pause on the tape of my life, and all I could do was watch, numb, as the one who’d shouted instructions caught sight of me still standing.
Fear ricocheted through my body as he stalked toward me, yet my feet remained rooted to the floor. No matter how hard I fought the creeping paralysis, I couldn’t move.
Everything felt surreal. The store, the robbers, me.
It was like I’d floated out of my body and was watching the scene play out as an invisible third party.
The masked man neared.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
My pulse reached deafening levels and drowned out everything except the heavy, ominous thud of his boots.
I should be focused on how to escape my current situation, but time flipped back with every footfall.
My first camping trip with my family. Walking across the graduation stage at Columbia. Meeting Dante.
Life events, big and small, that’d shaped me into who and where I was today.
How many more of those did I have left, if any?
Pressure squeezed the oxygen from my lungs.
Get down. But I couldn’t.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He was here.
The last thud finally kicked my fight or flight into high gear.
My body jerked, a gasp of life in the face of death, but it was too late.
The cold metal of a gun pressed against the underside of my chin.
“Did you not hear me the first time?” The man’s hot, wet breath fanned across my face. My stomach turned. “I said get on the fucking floor, bitch.”
His dark eyes gleamed with malice.
Some criminals were all bravado. They just wanted to snatch the goods and leave without actually killing anyone.
But the man in front of me? He wouldn’t hesitate to murder someone in cold blood. He looked like he was itching for it.
The drumming of my heart reached a fever pitch.
Less than an hour ago, I’d been agonizing over Dante and over the moon about hosting the Legacy Ball.
Now…
There was a possibility I might not make it to the next morning, much less the ball or my wedding.
