Page 27 of Forbidden Sins

ESTELLA

I stand in the center of the ballroom, my champagne flute grasped so tightly in my fingers that it might snap. Around me, there are lights and people and music, but it feels like it’s all a swirling haze, like I’m in a terrible dream that I can’t wake up from.

Another one of my father’s parties to narrow down my choice of suitors. Another night for me to be paraded like a piece of fine art, or maybe a particularly sought-after broodmare.

Across the room, I can see my father talking to Vito Bianchi. To my right, Nico Adamos is dancing with another guest, fractured light from the crystal chandelier above illuminating them as they move across the marble floor, but he only has eyes for me.

He’s not the only one. Aleksi Valinov, the son of a wealthy banking family looking to gain a foothold in New York, is another of my father’s prime choices.

Mateo Rossi is another possibility, the cousin of a powerful family from California.

I see them watching me from their vantage points in the room, circling me like sharks scenting blood, and I want to run screaming from the room.

There are other suitors, of course, but I know those four are the ones my father considers most ‘suitable’. And I know that Nico and Vito are at the top of his list.

The thought makes my stomach clench.

I take a sip of my champagne out of habit, remembering when the fizz and pop of the bubbles on my tongue were sweet and delightful, making me feel as if I could float away.

Now it tastes bitter, the fizz a sting in my mouth as I look for Sebastian.

He’s the only man I want to see tonight, but he’s keeping a careful distance, and I know why.

He’s been withdrawn again, since our conversation in the cemetery, all of those unsaid and half-said things hanging between us. He’s always around, always watchful, but I felt the walls between us go up, a barrier between us and everything that I know now he and I both want.

And now, I’m standing here, currency for my father’s transactions as he seeks to strengthen our family after my brother’s death.

That’s all this is. He might pretend to cater to my desires, pushing Nico in front of me as the more attractive option, but in the end, it will come down to whoever is best for the family.

Not for me.

If it were about who was best for me , I think bitterly as I take another sip of champagne, I’d be in Sebastian’s arms right now.

“You look like you’re planning a murder,” a voice says from behind me, as if by thinking about him, I summoned the man I want to see the most. I know it’s Sebastian standing behind me.

“Maybe I am,” I murmur. “Starting with Vito Bianchi.”

“The Boston don wouldn’t be pleased.”

“He can’t be that valuable to him if he’s willing to lose him to my father,” I counter, turning finally to face Sebastian. My chest tightens as I see him, as devastatingly handsome as always, his chiseled features illuminated in the glimmering light.

“Deals like that are always being made. Trading one underboss to another family is nothing if it comes with money and influence. I’m sure if you marry Vito Bianchi, the don will get a cut of what comes next.” Sebastian says it dryly, but the matter-of-fact way he’s speaking cuts me to the core.

“I’m glad it’s so easy for you to discuss this.” I turn away from him, and I feel his hand graze my arm ever so slightly before he steps away, next to me, a reasonable distance between us.

“You know it’s not,” he says in a low voice. “But it’s better to face the inevitable, isn’t it, Estella?”

“I’d rather find a way around it,” I say in clipped tones. I can feel Sebastian’s mounting frustration from where I’m standing, but I do my best to ignore it.

“Estella—”

“There you are.” My father’s voice interrupts us as he approaches, and he casts Sebastian a concerned glance. “Is everything alright, Sinclair?”

“Fine, sir,” Sebastian responds curtly. “I was just checking on Miss Gallo, to make sure that all is well.”

“And all is well?” My father looks at me, and I nod tightly, managing to paste a smile on my lips.

“Of course.”

“Good.” He smiles broadly. “Come with me, then. Vito was just telling me about a new development project that he’s eyeing, up in Vermont. A resort. It could be quite profitable for us. In fact, he was interested in hearing your take on it.”

I press my lips together, but nod. “Of course,” I manage, following my father away from Sebastian and over to where I see Vito standing, watching me without bothering to conceal his interest. His gaze rakes over me as I approach, taking in the emerald green silk dress I’m wearing, and the way he looks at me makes me feel naked.

But it’s not good , the way I feel when Sebastian looks at me, when I feel as if my body is heating from the inside out, all of me on the verge of being set aflame.

It feels uncomfortable, sticky, as if I want to wipe away the lingering residue of his eyes on me.

Vito reaches out as I approach, taking my hand. His thumb strokes over my knuckles in a way that’s far too intimate, and I have to resist the urge to recoil and yank my hand out of his grasp. “A pleasure to see you again, Estella,” he murmurs. “You look absolutely stunning tonight.”

And then, he begins to rattle off the details of the investment that he no doubt wants to impress me with.

He’s certainly impressed my father. I can practically see him already calculating the additional wealth that Vito could bring to the family.

I nod and smile at the appropriate intervals, trying to keep my gaze from wandering to look for Sebastian.

Is this what it’s like, being the heir all of the time?

I wonder, as I try to pay some modicum of attention to what Vito is saying.

Not just this part, but the constant parties, the socializing, the deals to be made, the jokes to laugh at, and the egos to be appeased?

Is this what you did while I was off pursuing my dreams, Luis ?

I feel a stab of guilt. My brother had his own dreams, things he wanted to do that he never got to and never would.

But he never complained. He never made me feel bad for getting to pursue an art history degree, while he was forced into international finance.

I had more freedom in a lot of ways than he did, and yet he never once said a word about it to me.

Now I’m forced into his role, albeit to a lesser degree, and I haven’t stopped complaining.

I bite my lip, feeling that guilt work its way deeper.

I don’t want to be the heiress. I don’t want to play my part in all of this, marry a man I don’t know, do my duty to the family.

But neither did Luis. Now he’s dead, and I’m all that’s left.

Should I be trying harder?

“Would you like that, Estella?” Vito’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I blink, trying to catch up to the thread of the conversation.

“I’m sorry?”

My father’s jaw tightens, and I can tell I’ve missed something. “Vito was just asking if you might like to go sailing tomorrow. He has a yacht he thought you might like to see.”

Another yacht. It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes.

“It might be good for you to get some sunshine,” my father continues, and his tone makes it clear that I’m expected to say yes. To get to know Vito, consider his proposal. Do my duty.

“Of course,” I manage, hating how small my voice sounds. How I’m capitulating so easily…and at the same time, hating that I don’t want to. That I resent everything I’m being asked to do in the wake of Luis’ death.

Vito smiles broadly. “Excellent. I’ll have my assistant arrange it all, and my security will discuss protection measures with your team.”

The conversation fades out around me again, and I look across the room, seeing Sebastian leaning against a wall. His bearing looks casual, but his gaze is hawk-like as always, missing nothing. He looks in my direction, and I feel my breath catch in my throat.

I can’t do this. I can’t.

“Excuse me,” I blurt out suddenly, moving away from Vito and my father. “I just need to get some air. It’s hot in here—I’ll be back.”

I walk quickly away from them, out toward the doors that lead to the garden, before Vito can say something about accompanying me.

I hear my father’s muttered apology behind me, and I know I’ve embarrassed him, but I can’t bring myself to care just now.

After all, he doesn’t care about how I feel about any of this. Not in the slightest.

I need to escape, just for a few minutes. I need space, to breathe, to get away from the expectations suffocating me. It’s all too much.

Slipping out into the warm darkness of the gardens, I breathe in the scent of the flowers—roses and lavender and night-blooming jasmine.

My heels click against the stones as I walk down the path, and I feel my eyes burn with unshed tears, my chest aching as I slip deeper into the recesses of the garden.

The sounds of the party fade, and the pressure in my chest eases the slightest bit as I lean against a fountain on the outer edge of the garden maze, listening to the splash of the water.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper aloud to nothing—or maybe to Luis, wherever he is. My brother would have listened, even if he couldn’t have helped.

I hadn’t realized just how much freedom I’d been allowed until it evaporated. Until I was suddenly hemmed in by expectations that weren’t there before. And I feel guilty for resenting it, because things are only like this because Luis is dead.

It feels like resenting him, and I don’t . I really don’t.

I sink onto the edge of the fountain, uncaring if the water splashes on my dress, burying my face in my hands.

“What options do I have?” I whisper. There are no good ones that I can see.

I can marry a man I barely know and don’t love, chain myself to him for a lifetime, or I can refuse and lose everything.