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More men surrounded me. “Okay, you guys need to give me room.” I flashed them a fake nervous smile.

“So what’s your name?” one of them asked.

“I bet you taste better than this wine.”

Wine was the last thing on their minds. They were probably wondering if I was a candidate for mistress.

“Move over, Sergio. Give the lady some room,” Tommy growled.

Bodies pushed against me. I could not extend my arms to pour the wine. Air became scarce. Either that or I was panicking, like I’d been thrown into shark-infested waters with a bleeding wound. In this case, it was my bleeding heart.

Just when I thought I was going to let out the scream in my chest, fresh air expanded my lungs.

The bottles disappeared from my hands, and I was staring into Sandro’s livid gaze. He used his hulking form and shouldered men aside, or maybe they simply backed off from the vicious hostility emanating from him.

His jaw was clenched. His mouth was trying to form words but failing. He gripped my arms the way Tommy did earlier and then dragged me from the room.

My gaze passed over to Griselda. Her expression was just as furious as Sandro’s. That was when I realized she was standing beside the man I knew as Gian. The adopted Rossi. The newboss. I didn’t like the speculative gleam in his eyes, like he was already plotting bad things for me.

My legs struggled to match Sandro’s long strides.

He hauled me into a living room with pass-throughs on each side. Guests got startled at our abrupt entrance.

“Out,” Sandro roared.

The occupants scrambled for the exits.

He let go of my arm and the momentum at which we entered the room had me stumbling a few steps forward.

“What the hell, Sandro?” I shrieked.

“What the hell?” he repeated, as if I had the gall to get pissed off at him. “What the hell,” he repeated more softly. And I knew him well enough that he was about to explode. And I was right.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he roared.

“I came to congratulate you on your engagement.” I tilted up my chin. Shocked, how I calmly delivered that line when my knees were knocking against each other. Self-righteous anger simmered inside me, remembering all the years I thought I could steer him away from the Rossis, showing him that their way wasn’t the only way. That my family would embrace him and protect him as long as he severed ties with them.

His eyes flickered with an unnamed emotion. Surprise maybe? Or guilt that I knew about the engagement.

“What do you want me to say, Bianca?” He exhaled a resigned sigh. “Thank you?”

“Are they forcing you to marry her?” I asked shakily.

“No.” His reply was immediate and my tattered heart started hemorrhaging.

My foolish, foolish heart. I shoved his chest. Angry tears scalded my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “Then what was that fucked-up game you were playing with me? You scare my boyfriends away and then not want me?” A pained hitch chokedthose last two words. “You said I deserved better. Help me understand, Sandro. Why marry someone else?”

The last shred of pride kept me from asking,Why not me?

“Bianca…” Was that pity in his eyes? I should’ve turned around and walked away. Left him to the Rossis. It was clear he made his choice.

“Oh, how wonderful that she knows.” Griselda strode in.

“Not now, Griselda,” he bit out.

“Oh, Sandro.” She sidled up to him and clung to his arm. “Sooner or later, she’ll find out.” The smile she cast me was full of triumph, of satisfaction that in the end she’d won and I was left with heartbreak and humiliation. “It’s time to stop indulging her girlish dreams and concentrate on the family we’re going to have.” She palmed her lower belly, leaving no question what she meant. She was already pregnant. Griselda was having Sandro’s baby.

I wanted to throw up.