weekend?”
I nodded.
She glanced back at Nora, I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Actually,” Nora’s eyes flicked to mine. “I think I’ll wait for Luis, after all.”
“Of course.” Arianne climbed out and lifted the seat for her friend.
“I said I’d give you a ride,” I gritted out, irritation vibrating inside me.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” Her brow went up and before I could answer, she slipped out and slammed the door.
And I watched them walk away wondering why I didn’t feel as relieved as fuck.
Chapter 4
Nora
“Are you sure I look okay?” I fluffed my hair for the third time. My wild curls hung around my face, and my eyes were smoky and seductive. I’d even broken out my blood-red lipstick.
“Don’t you think you’re trying a little too hard?” Arianne eyed me through the mirror, and I frowned.
“I’m not trying to do anything other than look good.”
“For Enzo,” she quipped.
“No, not for Enzo. For myself.” It was Arabella Bellatoni’s sweet sixteen party, and it was set to be a big affair. The entire Marchetti family would be there. I wanted to look good. No, I wanted to look like a knockout. It had absolutely nothing to do with the brooding, arrogant guy that was avoiding me at every turn.
My stomach fluttered at the very thought of Enzo. He’d been such a jerk the other day and part of me hated him, hated the way he’d just written us off before we ever really got started… but the other part, the other part still wanted him, mistakes and all.
But I couldn’t tell Ari that. She wouldn’t understand. Nicco wasn’t like his cousin. Nicco was loyal and protective and super possessive. Nicco loved with everything that he was. Fiercely. Deeply. Truly.
Something told me a guy like Enzo didn’t know how to love.
The thought made my heart ache.
Everyone deserved a chance, a shot at something good. Something pure. Even the darkest of souls.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” Ari said. “After what happened with his father… Enzo is in a bad place. Nicco said—” She stopped herself.
Enzo’s father had been killed in a collision right before the holidays. It came as a huge shock to everyone, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine how he must be feeling. But he wouldn’t even let me get close enough to ask.
“Mafia stuff?” I asked.
“Yeah, sorry.” Guilt flashed in her eyes. “He couldn’t tell me most of it, but Enzo isn’t going to be around much.”
“He isn’t?” That got my attention.
“Nicco is worried, so whatever it is, must be bad.”
“Enzo’s a big boy, I’m sure he can handle himself.” Except, I didn’t really want to think about what handling himself meant. The illusion of a dark brooding bad boy was a hot fantasy, but the last few months had proved that reality and fantasy didn’t always match up.
“Mrs. Marchetti, Miss Abato,” Luis, Ari’s personal bodyguard, appeared. “The car is ready.”
“Thank you, Luis. But please, stop calling me that.”
“But it’s your name, Mrs. Marchetti.” I teased.
“It still doesn’t feel real.”
“Well, it is, babe. Enjoy it. It’s not every day an eighteen-year-old girl meets her soul mate, marries him, and moves in together within… four months.”
“God, when you say it like that it sounds really bad.” Her cheeks pinked, and I fought a smile.
“Ari, who cares what it sounds like? You got your prince, babe. Your very own Prince of Hearts. Own that shit. Hell, I would.”
“You know you’ll find your prince one day, right?”
“I know.” It wasn’t like I wanted to settle down right now or anything. I was barely nineteen. I had three-and-a-half years of college left and a whole life to live. But I wanted what Ari and Nicco had. I wanted that special connection with someone, that bond.
“All set?” she asked, steering the subject to safer shores.
“As I’ll ever be.” I laced my arm through hers and we followed Luis out of the apartment.
“This will be fun,” Ari whispered.
I didn’t doubt it, but I also knew Enzo would be there… and that would be the sweetest kind of torture.
Antonio Marchetti had hired The Diamond, a high-end bar in Romany Square, for his niece’s birthday party. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but the pink and black balloons and streamers made it feel every bit a sweet sixteenth. Kids danced on the dance floor, weaving shapes with their arms, singing along to the latest hits while the adults watched on, chatting and drinking.
“Oh my God, look.” I grabbed Ari’s arm. “He’s wearing a Fedora and