Page 56 of Veil of Obsession

Val shakes her head. “I’m fine. I was just talking to Lucio about finally being able to contact my sister.”

The scene in front of me makes me gag. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think an alien had taken the place of my brother, but Eli’s pussy-whipped. I could never embarrass myself like that for a woman.

“Your mommy and daddy are going to make me sick, Bee. Save yourself while you still can.”

Emiliano stands up, snatches his daughter out of my hold before slapping the back of my head. “Shut up.”

I rub my hand over the spot. “I’m out of here. The grinch has finally reared his head. Like I said, Bee, save yourself or he’ll steal Christmas.”

“Get out.” My brother finally snaps and kicks me out, but not before I sneak a kiss on the chubby cheek of my beautiful little niece. “Don’t come near my daughter or wife. I’ll kill you.”

“Emiliano! Don’t threaten your brother. Not in front of Bianca, at least,” Valentina chastises my brother before taking Bianca from him.

I stick my tongue out at her; she rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at me.

“Immature!” I shout as she moves down the hall to set Bianca down for her nap.

“Asshole!” she shouts back.

“I thought you said no swearing?”

She looks back with a sly smile on her face. “Bianca will learn that word because she’s surrounded by assholes. Hell, her father is one.”

“I won’t let that go,” Eli warns her, which she responds to by slamming the door to the baby’s nursery.

“I’m out. I was only here to see Bianca.”

Emiliano rolls his eyes. “Don’t get arrested. You caused quite the shitstorm last time.”

The elevator doors slide open, and I shout, “I can’t make any promises!”

The last thing I see before the doors slide closed is Eli’s middle finger directed at me. Asshole.

21

Lucio

The Hoffmans’ estate is sprawling, a picture of old money and ruthless ambition. The afternoon sun beats down on the perfectly-manicured lawn, where the scent of grilled steak and whiskey lingers in the air. It’s a gathering of alliances, a carefully curated social event that masks the constant undercurrent of power plays and silent negotiations.

I stand off to the side, nursing a glass of bourbon instead of my usual vodka, my gaze drifting over the gathering. Matteo is across the patio, his posture loose, deceptively at ease, but I know better. He’s detached. Uninterested. And most importantly, he’s ignoring his fiancée.

Vivian sits beside him, beautiful and poised, just how the newspapers described her. Her dark hair cascades over one shoulder, her elegant fingers curled around the stem of a wine glass.

She tries. She leans toward him, her voice soft, an attempt at pulling him into conversation. Matteo doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t acknowledge her. It’s like she doesn’t exist.

The air is thick with tension. People laugh and talk around them, but I see it. The way Vivian’s spine stiffens, the way her nails dig into her glass for a second before she forces herself to relax. A mask slipping back into place, and I know she’s barely holding it together.

It would almost be amusing, how little Matteo gives a shit, if not for the way his attention flickers. Not toward Vivian. Not even toward business. But to something else.

Tosomeoneelse.

Cicely Hoffman.

It’s subtle. No one else would notice if they’re not watching close enough, but I’m watching. The way his eyes follow her as she moves through the crowd, greeting guests with that quiet, composed charm that makes her so goddamn untouchable. The daughter of the most powerful Hoffman, the epitome of grace and prestige. She’s everything Matteo wouldn’t want.

And yet he watches her.

My grip tightens around my glass.