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“Stay close to me, and we will be fine.” I move my eyes over the area. I catch a few stares, but the majority of people avert their eyes and look elsewhere. “Two hours tops, and then we leave.”

“Okay.” She steels her back. “I can do this.”

Gold chandeliers cast a warm glow over the ballroom, illuminating the faces of politicians, businessmen, and criminals. I see Governor Raynes by the bar—a man whom I helped to fund his campaign. They move through the room with carefully rehearsed smiles, masking their true intentions beneath expensive suits and designer gowns.

The crowd parts like the Red Sea as we make our way to the bar. I hear the murmurs, and I feel the stares, but I hold my head high, and so does Maria.

“Maria!” Ginny’s voice rings out, and within seconds, she’s beside us, dressed in a crimson gown that screams confidence. Dario follows closely behind his wife. His expression is blank, but his eyes tell me that his mind is ticking away.

Ginny launches herself at my wife and envelops her into a tight hug. They both laugh, and when they pull apart, they wear matching smiles. It’s nice to see that she and Maria have found friendship. After what happened with Emily, I was scared she would close herself off.

Ginny grins. “Oh my God, this dress is stunning on you. Emerald is definitely the color for you. Matteo, your wife is a vision—careful, or the vultures might start circling.”

I scoff. “I would love to see them try.”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “How romantic. Have I ever told you what a walking cliché you are? You remind me of my husband. Brooding, silent, and rich.”

I quirk my eyebrow at her. “Funny.”

“It’s a joke, Matteo.” My wife laughs and presses her hand on my chest. The small gesture is enough to temper my hardness. I have been on edge since the moment we walked in here. “Smile, my love.”

“No.” I grab her waist and pull her in closer to my side. I press my lips on the side of her head and give her a slight squeeze. Having her near me helps to dull the sharpness in my chest. “Dario, I see you’re well.”

“Well enough.” Dario then moves his eyes to my wife. Surprisingly, there is a softness when he addresses her. “How are you, Maria? The last time we saw each other… things were pretty rough.”

Maria leans into me, her hand coming to rest on my chest. “I’m doing well, thank you. A lot better, actually.”

An awkward silence passes between us, but Ginny quickly fills it with a story about their vacation to Jamaica last week.After the incident, Dario thought it would be good for her to get out of the country for some time.

He was right. Ginny looks lighter now. The day of the Emily incident, Ginny had put on a brave face, but I knew better. She was hiding her true emotions for the sake of my wife. And for that I will be grateful.

“…the beaches were to die for. We need to visit together, Maria. You will love the…”

And then I hear it—a laugh I know too well. My head snaps to the left, and there he is.

Daniele.

He’s leaning against the bar, a whiskey glass dangling from his fingertips, his tie undone, his body language radiating ‘fuck off’ energy. His usual sharpness is dulled, his gaze heavy with intoxication.

Great. He’s drunk. My son has officially gone off the rails.

Maria senses my tenseness and she follows my eye line. Her muscles go rigid against my body as she sees my son. I know how she feels about the current situation, and she is wary.

The fibers in my arm twitch, and my jaw locks in place. I watch as he brings the glass to his lips and takes a long swig of the brown liquor. He slams the glass back onto the bar and points to the bartender to give him another.

“For fuck’s sake.” I need to get over there.

“Whatever you do, be calm, Matteo.” Maria tries to ease my irritation, but it doesn’t work this time. “He is your son, but he is working with Giacomo.”

“I know.”

Dario and Ginny both turn to look where we’re staring. I can feel the strain in the air, like it has teeth. I feel Dario’s eyes but I don’t dare look his way. I already know the judgment waiting there.

I release Maria with a murmured, “Excuse me.”

I only make it three steps before my wife’s hand grabs mine. I look back at her worried expression. Her eyes dart from Daniele to me and then back again.

“Matteo…” The plea in her voice is evident.