Page 130 of Cara

“Nervous?” She nudges my chin when I shake my head, obviously lying. “You look tired.”

“I haven’t been sleeping too well,” I confess.

Through the window, my gaze drifts beyond the party to the building concealed in the shadows. The prison. No matter how hard I try, I can never forget it’s there.

Together, we pass the long line of men and women waiting for a meeting in the parlor, exiting through the living room to join the party.

Xavier clearly won’t be free for a while.

The media announced my return across a broad range of outlets, but all the chatter in the garden quiets to a hush when the guests notice me on the stairs in a pale pink cocktail dress and mini heels. I didn’t bother to do anything with my hair, which sways at my waist as I risk another step, concealing my fear while I grab the nearest drink and lift it toward the group.

“Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to me—to us—that you all could be here.”

Maybe I should say more.

I can’t say I ever listened to my mother’s speeches.

A part of me doubts my father ever gave her a chance to make one, and perhaps that’s why my mind is drawing blanks, especially when my gaze roams the garden, and my eyes focus on the very person I’ve been thinking about all day—a person I was sure I’d never see again.

Courtney goes totally rigid beside me as Camilla Marin, clutching her purse to her chest, weaves through the crowd, heading this way.

Mamma.

My first thought, even though it doesn’t deserve to be.

Losing sight of her when I'm suddenly surrounded, my heart pounds. It isn’t real. Shecan’tbe real.

Bianca is doing her best to get my attention, shaking my shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re here. You don’t even know how worried I was when you were gone. Tell me… You were in Sicily? Where? Why for this long? Sophia?”

I'm not even looking at her.

Some man taps impatiently on my shoulder, introducing himself. Another one creeps up to my ear, and my fists clench, suppressing the programming Isaac drilled into me to prevent me from punching someone in the face.

It’s more than I can handle.

Their prying eyes and meddlesome suspicions of me, scrutinizing my body for signs of the rumors they’ve all inevitably heard. Deep down, they know I didn’t leave my life of my own accord four years ago only to return now. Their Boss hasn’t been alone for four years because I was caring for a friend in Italy. The media may buy that—not the family.

Not when they all know what powerful men do to headstrong problems like me.

“Sophia, my name is…”

A firm hand settles on my shoulder before a broad back shields me from the crowd. In an instant, I release any and all fear as my fingers feebly clutch the cinch of Xavier’s pinstriped vest. With effortless and unwavering dominance, he asserts his presence, forcing them to retreat under the scorching intensity of his disapproving gaze. At the same time, Dante blends into the masses, closely following my mother, who fends off anyone who tries to slow her down.

Xavier turns to me, stone-faced, every bit an intimidating Mafia Boss in this moment. “Go see your mother.”

Bianca stands tongue-tied as I pass through the bewildered crowd, venturing down the untraveled path, confronting my mother where Dante has halted her with a massive hand blocking her chest, forbidding her from getting any closer. Ignoring his intimidating scowl, her gaze remains fixed on me, her eyes widening as if she’s just now pieced together that it’s really me.

“Sophia.”

“Camilla.”

There’s no outcry of emotion. No crushing embrace. Justcold restraint behind beautiful golden-brown eyes. One look and I’m already sure she isn’t here because she hasn’t been able to live all this time without me.

“Why did you come?” I ask.

“I had to see you with my own eyes.”

Dante flashes his eyes at me in a silent question, letting her move only when I tell him to. She isn’t here to kill me. She has no gun, and even if she did, at least I now know how to strip it from her. As he shoots daggers at the woman who gave me life while she heads into the house, I nod, letting him believe I can handle this, even if I can’t.