Page 102 of Always Mine
“Marco, I think it’s best we stick to our plan of staying platonic and in our professional roles. Tonight is important for my dad and the firm. I don’t want gossip about our relationship status to overshadow it.”
I feel like I’ve been sucker-punched. It’s not what she said so much as how. The resignation and finality in her tone registers immediately. She’s made her choice. I’m losing her. I just know it.
“I’m going to get this over with,” she says, waving a hand towards the red carpet. “Raf just got here, and I know Dad wanted us to enter as a firm. I’ll see you in there.”
She takes in my worried expression and adds softly, “It’s all going to be okay. This ends tonight.” The logical part of me knows she’s talking about what we’ve got planned, but the part of me that’s spiraling is certain she’s also putting an end to us. Fuck.
Chapter seventy-one
Villains And Heroes
Sophia
Sofarthenighthas gone to plan. Dad, Raf, Chiara, and I walked the red carpet together.
Ironically, I’m dateless. Marco’s shattered expression when I knocked back his offer to walk with me is seared into my memory. I didn’t mean for it to come out so abruptly, but my nerves are starting to take hold. Chiara played the part of Raf’s date to perfection. Somehow she managed to convince him to go along with the ruse so she had an excuse to extend her stay in New York while she gets all her visa details finalized and figures out how to break the news to her uncle that she’s accepted the photography job and won’t be coming home any time soon. It’s a miracle seeing as Raf is still intent on trying to convince himself he’s not attracted to her. Spoiler: the only one he’s fooling is himself. Regardless, it means he’s not going dateless for the third year in a row. And, quite frankly, I think it’s a good move for his image. Maybe it will help put a stop to the outlandish whispers about why a successful, wealthy, and extremely fine specimen like Raf is single but not ready to mingle. Once inside, I spot Marco talking to some of his team, all dressed in the customary black suits with black shirt. He’sthe picture of serenity on the outside, but I know he’s on high alert, too.
The room looks magical. Like I’ve stepped into a bygone era. I’m in awe of the level of detail Elena and Evie crafted to bring to life the vintage glam theme. Heavy cream fabric drapes gracefully from one side of the room to the other, set off by large white floral arrangements and ornate gold and crystal chandeliers suspended from above. Tall unstructured arrangements of wild greenery and white roses make up the table centerpieces, the soft, warm glow of candles en masse lending the room an ethereal glow. Soulful jazz notes play at just the right volume in the background, enough to fill the vast space but not to overshadow the conversations happening around the room.
I spot Evie and Chiara near the bar, Evie still directing a waitperson even though she is officially off the clock and should be enjoying the event as a guest. Evie looks classically chic in a long-sleeved black silk-satin gown that drapes low at the back, accessorized with long crystal earrings and bejeweled heels. Meanwhile, Chiara looks radiant in a fitted gold sequin gown that sits straight across her shoulders at the front and has a large circle cut out at the back. Her hair is pulled into a high, voluminous ponytail and her signature blood-red lipstick paints her lips. Stella is missing from our girl gang tonight; she’s being paid a ridiculous amount of money to work intensively with her new F1 client to ensure he’s mentally prepared for the upcoming race season.
“Evie, this looks absolutely stunning,” I say, gesturing to the room. She barely hears me, pointing a gloved hand across the room to indicate to the waitperson where they need to take the tray of canapés.
Chiara rolls her eyes at me before leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, “She always this much of a control freak?”
I snap my fingers in front of her face to get her attention. “E-vieeee!” I stretch out her name like teacher scolding a misbehaving child. “You’re off the clock now, girlfriend. Here, have this,” I say, passing her a glass of champagne. “Cheers. To a job well done.”
“Thanks, bestie. Spin for me,” she instructs with a turn of her finger so she can inspect her handiwork as my stylist. “Damn. That dress was absolutely made for you. Fits like a glove.”
I feel my cheeks warm a little. “Marco approves. Too bad we didn’t get to make this our first official public appearance like I’d planned before we fucking imploded.”
“What’s happening there?”
“We’re taking it slow. He wants me to be sure I can trust him and want to be with him after everything that’s happened. I know the distance is killing him,” I admit. “It’s torture for me too, but I just haven’t had the bandwidth to talk about next steps.”
“Girl, I understand why you guys called time out. But that man has it so bad for you,” chimes in Chiara, clinking her glass against Evie’s and then mine. “Do not let that one get away. Maybe he could teach The Grump a thing or two.”
I laugh at her scarily apt description of my eldest brother and survey the room trying to spot him.
I instantly find him looking smart in a classic black tux not too dissimilar to Marco’s. His jaw is clenched tight as he watches Arty animatedly regale a group made up of partners from various prestigious New York law firms. If I didn’t know the vile things he’s done and capable of, it would be hard to reconcile the villain I know he is with the man across the room. But I only need to play nice for a little bit longer. In a few short minutes, we’ll take the stage as co-chairs to officially kick off the night’s festivities. After seeing the hard work that has gone into making this event look spectacular, I feel a pang of guilt about what will transpire later this evening. The lengths GG has gone to in preparation for tonight has honestly proven that I might have judged a book a little too harshly by its cover. I haven’t seen her yet, but I know she will be here as a guest of Belmont Media, which is an official sponsor of the event.
There’s no turning back now. The truth will prevail.
We’re past the main meals and we’ve announced and presented several awards in line with the night’s theme, Cream Of TheCrop. The time is nearing closer to present the award for Partner Of The Year and Standout Case Of The Year. Ironically, Arty is nominated for both, because while he might have made some highly questionable decisions outside the courtroom, inside of it, he’s an astute lawyer.
“You’re killing it up there, sis,” says Luca from the across the table. In his typical way, he’s charming the pants off Dad’s assistant of almost two decades, Janice. “If the lawyer thing doesn’t work out, you could always get a gig in presenting,” he says in jest.
Dad scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, son. Next year she’ll be up there taking one or two of those awards.”
I roll my eyes at my brother and give my dad a small smile and nod of thanks for his support. He knows Marco and I have taken a step back. It’s no surprise he approved of the move, but to his credit, he didn’t try to push me into the arms of Arty. He could tell my focus was firmly on work, to the point I’ve been skipping meals, so Dad put a standing afternoon date in my calendar every Wednesday to ensure I stopped for lunch at least once in the week.
One positive to come out of pulling together the event over the last few weeks—and helping to put the steps in place for a bombshell finale—is feeling more clarity about what I want to do with my law degree. The draw of law for me was always helping others seek justice, not helping the rich get richer. It’s why I’ll be the first Princi, and not just that, but the first Princi woman, to lead the Victims of Crime arm of Princi & Associates, under the guidance and mentorship of Raf and my father, who’ve given me their full support.
Our firm has two tables at tonight’s event. The first seats some of our firm’s best performing associates and partners, and ours seats my parents, Marco’s parents, Elena and Samuel, Raf, Chiara, Sebastian, Evie, Luca, Janice, Marco, and me.
Elena and my mother are chatting; Marco and Samuel excused themselves to check in on their team and make sure there are no security issues leading into the back end of the night. Chiara andEvie are giggling at something, and Raf is trying his hardest to keep his eyes off the Italian beauty.
I scan the room and find GG and Arabella a few tables over, and I dip my head at them to acknowledge it’s almost time. They both rise from the table, GG walking off to the back where the PA and multimedia equipment are all set up. Dressed in a breathtaking ruffled lilac silk-chiffon gown, Arabella makes her way to our table. Luca tracks her every move, mesmerized into silence for once in his life. His light eyes flare with a swirl of emotion. Regret, heat, tenderness, possessiveness. Like he’s ready to pounce and whisk her away from here. He does a good job of tempering whatever he’s feeling, rising calmly to kiss her hello on the cheek and tell her how amazing she looks before she politely greets the rest of our table. “Evie and Elena, you’ve done an incredible job with the event. And you’re a natural as co-chair, Sophia,” she says, complimenting us all with genuine warmth.