King of Souls - L.A. Cotton Page 0,24

Mrs. Fascini.”

“Please, Arianne.” Suzanna stepped forward. “We are going to be family soon enough.” She grabbed my shoulders and planted a kiss on each cheek.

“Suzanna, let the girl breathe. Arianne,” Mr. Fascini addressed me. “It’s good to see you again. You too, Gabriella.”

I hadn’t realized my mom had entered the room, but I didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, I pressed my lips together, forcing myself to nod. Mike Fascini was a real piece of work, to stand there and pretend everything was okay when he knew... he knew the kind of monster his son was. Yet he did nothing.

Not a damn thing.

“We have much to discuss; sit.” He motioned to the leather couch as if it was his home, as if he was the one in control.

It occurred to me that maybe he was.

I sat down like the dutiful, docile daughter I’d once been. Defiance burned inside me like a wildfire, simmering in my blood and making my breaths come in short, shallow bursts.

Mike Fascini was like his son. Handsome. Charming. Sporting a smile that lured you in. But I wasn’t fooled. Expensive suits and good looks didn’t mean much in a world where money talked, and people were nothing but pawns.

“I have reserved the Michelangelo Suite at the Gold Star Hotel for next Saturday.”

“That soon?” I choked out.

“We are keen to share the happy news,” Mr. Fascini said. “Isn’t that right, Roberto?”

Something passed between the two men, something that had a shiver rolling up my spine.

My father cleared his throat. “Indeed. Mike and Suzanna are handling the entire thing. Isn’t that kind of them?”

“I think it’s lovely,” Mom said, patting my knee. I didn’t miss the slight tremble of her hand.

“The invitations have already been sent. One-hundred and twenty of Verona County’s most influential people will gather to witness the union of our two great families.”

“I’m sure it will be quite the celebration.” My father smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. In fact, he looked utterly defeated.

I wanted to see into his mind. To know why he was doing this.

“I have arranged extra security.” Mr. Fascini’s cold gaze flicked to mine. “Just in case.”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” my father added. “Arianne knows what's at stake.”

“Yes, well, we can’t be too careful. Nicco Marchetti is out there somewhere... I’m sure we’d all feel much safer knowing the party is well protected.”

“Of course, Mike.” Mom smoothed the hair from her face. “Have you decided upon a color? A theme? Is there a certain style Arianne should wear?”

“It will be a black-tie dinner,” Suzanna beamed. “So break out those cocktail dresses and diamonds.”

“I have just the dress.” The two of them launched into a separate conversation about dresses and table centerpieces while I sat there, silent and suffocated, a storm brewing inside me.

Luis stood by the door, rigid and poised. He caught my eye, offering me a small nod of encouragement.

“Arianne?”

“Hmm, sorry?” I blinked over at my father and Mr. Fascini.

“Mike was just asking how your evening with Scott went last night?”

“It was fine, thank you.” The lie wrapped around my heart, squeezing until it hurt.

“You’ll have to excuse my son, Arianne. He can come on a little strong, but it’s only because he likes you so much. He has been waiting a long time for this.”

A violent shudder ripped through me. “He was quite the gentleman.” The words almost choked me.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Mr. Fascini picked up his glass and raised it slightly before knocking down the amber liquid.

I slid my gaze to my father. Guilt and pain were etched into his expression. And I was glad. I was glad he had to sit here and pretend too. Because why should I be the only one paying the price?

“We have arranged for you to arrive together,” Mr. Fascini said. “We think it will really make a statement. Then we’ll eat, and after the meal, I’ll make a toast to Capizola Holdings and Fascini and Associates becoming partners in more ways than one.” He sat back against the soft leather couch, pulling his ankle across his knee. He was the epitome of a man in control; a man holding all the chips.

“We know this has all come as quite the shock, Arianne,” Suzanna said, her smile wide and honest. She was like the girls at college. Girls blinded by the Fascini name: the money, the status and power, and good genes. “But in our world, couplings like this are good business.”

“Hmm.” I pursed my lips, smothering a groan.

“It’s

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