The Devil's CrownPart Two - Monica James Page 0,42
He appears to be the same age as Santo and Vincenzo, but there is no mistake that he is the head patriarch. The air of authority follows him as he kisses my cheeks.
So, this is the Italian mafia. The men who plan on taking Alek down.
Gulping down my champagne, I realize I’m in way over my head. I thought this would be…easier. Renata made it look so simple. But I suppose she didn’t have to contend with the Italian fucking mafia.
I don’t fail to notice Mila observing my every movement. As a rule, we stay out of each other’s way. She doesn’t like me, and the feeling is more than mutual. Even before Santo showed any interest in me, she had it out for me.
I thought it was because she believed I wasn’t good enough for her baby boy. But now, I think she knows Santo likes me more than he should. She sees me as a threat to her precious kingdom, but she can have it. Once this night is through, I’ll be out of here. I just don’t know how yet.
Looking at the grandfather clock, I see that it’s after seven. Alek should be here soon. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I need to tell him his life is in danger. He needs to kill Santo before Santo gets to him first.
A shiver surpasses me as I’m afraid. This has all turned to shit in the span of twelve hours. This world is so foreign to me. I want out, and when the air charges and sparks with a pulsating current, it seems I’m about to get my wish.
All attention rivets toward the doorway, all in tuned to the man who turns heads wherever he goes. Alek enters the room, and all I want to do is cry in happiness. He’s here. Even though I’m still furious at him for consorting with those three women, I can’t deny my happiness overrides my anger. For now.
His dark hair is slicked back, showcasing his chiseled features and those steel-blue eyes. He’s clean shaven, but like always, a hint of a five o’clock shadow pokes through. He reeks of authority in his navy fitted slacks and a white crisp shirt.
His cane makes him look all the more intimidating.
Saint and Willow are close behind him. Both look stunning. I wonder where Pavel and Max are.
“Ah, my friend,” Santo says happily, walking over to Alek and offering his hand.
They shake, and I can’t help but feel deflated as Alek hasn’t sought me out. He’s behaving as though I don’t exist, but I suppose that’s to be expected after our last meeting.
How things have changed since then.
“Please, I want you to meet my brother, Vincenzo; his son, Christian; and my brother-in-law, Fausto.” Santo waves his family over, wanting to get introductions out of the way early.
“Pleasure to meet you, Aleksei,” Vincenzo says in Sicilian.
“English please, Vince—”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Alek replies in Sicilian, cutting Santo off.
All men stare at Alek, impressed he can speak their dialect. Did they really think he’d come unprepared?
Fausto shakes Alek’s hand firmly. Two alphas in the same room—this will not end well.
I quickly avert my eyes, knowing I’m openly ogling Alek. I catch the gaze of Willow who watches me closely with a concerned look on her face. She’s here for appearances’ sake, but neither Saint nor Alek would put her in harm’s way which makes me believe they don’t intend on tonight ending in violence.
The need to speak to Alek is even more imperative.
Frank’s grip on my arm tightens as he draws me into his side. I don’t know what’s caused this sudden possessiveness, but when I meet Alek’s eyes, I realize he’s the reason. He doesn’t seem to care that we’re in a room full of people because he looks at me as though we’re the only people in the world.
He openly examines me from head to toe, his heated gaze lingering on my face as he works his way back up. I remain passive, not wanting to alert that anything is amiss with so many eyes on us. His hunger turns to fury, however, when he focuses on Frank’s fingers digging into my upper arm.
I want nothing more than to wrap myself in Alek’s arms and explain everything, but I can’t. His blatant stares haven’t gone unnoticed by Frank, so I have to tread with caution.
“Let’s eat,” Santo says, breaking the sudden uncomfortable silence.