08. cocktail parties and pretty dresses

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HER POV

"I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight," Dante warned in a low voice.

Despite my attempts from the previous night, I was still stuck at the back of the black SUV headed toward The Dorchester, the ballroom where the banquet Dante had been invited to was being held.

       "You could have just left me at the mansion if you were so scared I was going to cause a scene, tesoro (treasure)," I said in a sweet voice.

       "So, you could attempt to run away again?" Dante mused with a raised eyebrow before shaking his head. "No, thank you."

       I huffed in annoyance as I rested my chin on my hand. Dante scooted closer with his usual tiny smirk. How I hated that smirk.

       "Plus," he hummed while snaking his arm around my shoulders. "I wanted to show off my beautiful bride."

       I jabbed my elbow into his left rib and shoved him away. Dante did not even wince from the impact but took it as his cue to place distance between us.

       "I will play the lovely, enamored bride role," I replied with a sour smile. "But trust me Dante, there is no way you'll win back my heart. It belongs to someone else now."

       Anger. It was the sole emotion that flashed through Dante's eyes. His lips twisted into frown as he clenched his jaw tightly.

       "We are here, sir," the chauffeur announced before getting out and opening the door for us. Dante's furious expression faded as the door opened.

       "Your mine Samantha, you'll always be mine," he whispered into my ear as we stepped out of the car. His breathe against my neck made every hair on my body stand up.

       He smirked upon seeing my reaction. I pressed my lips together into a firm line. He held his smug smirk upon getting the reaction he wanted and led us toward the ballroom. The flashing of the cameras followed us as we ascended up the stairs, walking over the blue carpet that had been laid out.

       Many journalists wanted to catch a glimpse of Dante Villanueva and his new concubine—me. I offered the cameras a small smile, but inside I felt empty. I knew that by now Brian had probably seen the news. His little friend of his worked at a business journalism outlet after all. He must be thinking the worst of me.

       I looked up at Dante who had a grin from ear-to-ear, and I felt my stomach churn with anger. I had to get free of his hold and clear things up with Brian. Brian. How I missed his gentle touch on my skin as he made sweet love to me.

       "I wonder what has you deep in thought Bella?" Dante mused quietly as we entered the ballroom.

       "Nothing," I easily lied as I distracted myself with the decor.

       It was quite grand and sophisticated. Ten times more elegant than Dennis' wedding reception. The live orchestra played their instruments and a sweet melody echoed through the room.

       Many rich families were already present—the McKellers, the Hamiltons, the Hathaways, the Daniels, the Johnsons and even the Prince of Italy.

       "I am guessing this is a normal banquet?" I asked noticing all the wealthy and clean families. There were no signs of any other mafias.

       "I have to upkeep my innocent image, cara mia (my darling), " Dante responded.

       Dante like many other mafia leaders had to uphold a double-life. He used his modeling agency and various stores to cover up his criminal tracks, from laundering money to transporting illegal goods. To the business world, he was Dante Villanueva, the handsome CEO of LA Modeling Management. To the criminal world, he was Il Lupo (The Wolf). The cold and merciless son of Riccardo Villanueva-Conti.

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