Definition of Black Suit

Chapter Sixteen

AN: This chapter dedicated to the best PA there is !
Love you - Eva x

Lyla

Keeping my composure in the face of embarrassment was a real challenge. Sebastian, however, remained unruffled, effortlessly conversing in fluent Italian. Not responding to me every time I talked Italian to him, giving the impression he didn't understand the language. Here is proving the point that this man is holding his cards close to his chest at all times. With him, I could never fully let my guard down.

I made a concerted effort to focus when an older man's gaze landed and lingered on me as he spoke with Sebastian. "Certamente signore" (Of course, sir,) He lowered his head as if in a bow.

However, the way the older man looked at me, though in a polite tone, made me distinctly uncomfortable. But before I could retreat from his gaze, Sebastian's unspoken presence by my side reassured me. Always the gentleman, he pulled out a chair for me and introduced me to the group "La signorina Marino mi assisterà oggi. In questa triste compagnia, qualcuno deve apparire carino". (Miss Marino will assist me today. As in this dismal company, someone needs to look pretty.) And then he waved a hand toward his right-hand man, seated on the opposite side, "Si ricorda di Tom Volkov" (You remember Tom Volkov.)

I fought the urge to slap him and perhaps strangle him with his own tie; he had almost made it sound like I was some sort of side chick, and that was certainly not a role I'd agreed to. However, I restrained myself, determined not to show even a hint of annoyance. Sebastian's casual gesture had effectively marked me as his, diverting the attention of the two men, and that was a relief in itself.

It was hard to ignore the fact that he had referred to me as "pretty," even though all four men were wearing tailored suits and was far cry from shabby Sebastian was undeniably the most outrageously handsome man I had ever encountered. Regardless, the older guy at the table seemed instantly uncomfortable, and I couldn't help but appreciate the territorial undertones of Sebastian's actions.

"Certanente" (Indeed), the older man concurred before Sebastian could take his seat, gesturing toward a younger man. "Non credo sia stato presentato a mio figlio, Salvatore Sant'Arcangelo, il mio erede"

(I don't believe you've been introduced to my son, Salvatore Sant'Arcangelo, my heir.)

Salvatore bore some resemblance to his father, sharing a square jaw and deeply dark eyes, but the similarities ended there. His father was shorter, with a weary countenance and slouched shoulders, while Salvatore, though shorter than Tom, was similarly tall, lean, and well-built.

Salvatore's undivided attention was fixed on Sebastian, as though his entire existence depended on this meeting. His father tensed when Sebastian didn't immediately respond, seemingly dismissing Salvatore and took his seat. And they have no other option but to follow.

As the two men and Tom settled at the table, a visibly nervous waitress approached, menus in hand, ready to take our drink orders.

Italians ordered wine, Salvatore, while talking with a thick accent showing he did not use English language often, although I couldn't help but wonder if he was old enough to partake. He appeared young, perhaps around the age of twelve on his face, despite his physically fit appearance. Suppressing my curiosity, I ordered a glass of wine for myself, hoping it would steady my trembling hands. Tom requested a glass of gin, and to my surprise, Sebastian opted for coffee, the only one in the room who didn't seek solace in alcohol.

As the waitress left, the tension in the air grew palpable. I couldn't comprehend why Sam, or Sebastian, was so on edge, especially when these two men, clearly influential and powerful, appeared utterly terrified by Sebastian's presence to their very bones.