Filed to story: The Mafia Boss’s Regret (Ava & Dante)
He must have been satisfied with my answer, because he stepped back.
A second later, someone came around the corner. Ice crawled up my throat. Benito stopped when he saw us, his eyes narrowing to slits.
Dante and I stood a couple feet apart now, though we were both alone, and my wide doe eyes had to give everything away. I forced a smile, and Dante gave my cousin a look of dark indifference before I sprinted into the bathroom.
Leaning against the door, I exhaled a breath of relief.
I was not going to marry Oscar Perez.
Now that I knew there was an out, I let myself hope for the best. And I wasn’t going to lose the chance because of Dante Moretti.
I used the restroom, went straight to the terrace beside the pool, took my gin and tonic from Christian, who must have noticed I liked them-a good quality in a man-and swallowed a large drink for courage.
Then I talked to him. Animatedly. Like it was 100 percent my choice and not done by my father’s interference. Like I hadn’t gotten blackmailed not to.
Christian was amused by it all, appearing to know everything I did, and I wouldn’t doubt it. He was perceptive, and hot. He only got hotter the more I drank, but, for some illogical reason, I couldn’t push Dante out of my mind for a second. I was continually aware of his presence, even with this insanely attractive man’s avid attention.
My gaze caught on Dante’s through the glass. He watched me, his hands in his pockets, while talking to Luca. His expression was unexpected: indifferent and calm. Like the exchange in the hall hadn’t happened.
What a confusing man.
He’d told me he didn’t bluff, and unfortunately, I would soon learn he really didn’t.
Five minutes later, my cheeks felt hot from my fifth drink of the night, and I was beginning to think I’d imagined Dante’s temper as well. Christian was easy to talk to, though I wondered how much of what he said was the truth. I listened as he told me about a cabin he owned in the Rockies, where the stars were incredibly bright.
“Sounds beautiful,” I commented. “I would love to see it.”
“See what?”
My shoulders tensed at Dante’s deep voice behind my back.
“My cabin in Colorado,” Christian responded, while I said, “None of your business,” at the same time.
“You sound angry, Ava.” Dante’s voice was tainted with something dangerous. “Maybe you should cool off.”
My brows knitted. “What? No-“
I never got to finish what I had to say.
Because, with one hand on my side, Dante pushed me into the pool.
WHILE I CLIMBED OUT OF the pool, soaking wet, they stood a foot apart staring at one another.
Christian’s lips tipped up as he brought his drink to his mouth, but his gaze never left Dan’s.
“Ava!” Mamma gasped, running onto the patio. “What happened?”
Everyone’s eyes touched my skin through the glass, and it felt like I was on display at the zoo.
My teeth clenched. “I fell.”
“Madonna! How much have you drunk?”
“Apparently more than I thought,” I muttered.
Her hesitant gaze ran to Dante and Christian, who were the two most ungentlemanly men I’d ever met-the former for pushing me into the pool, and the latter for not helping me out.
Gianna came rushing outside with a towel, and Christian flicked a slow gaze to her over his glass, like the glance was equal parts involuntary and unwanted.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, accepting it.
“I think I have something for you to wear.” She grabbed the heels I’d pulled off so I could get out of the pool. I should have thrown them at Dante’s head, but by that time I had the entire party’s attention.
As I followed Gianna inside, everyone stared at me with wide eyes-well, all the women. I expected the worst from my papà, but he wasn’t even looking at me. His attention was on the two men on the patio, his expression darkening.
My stomach dipped.
How many had seen that it was Dante who pushed me in? And why would he do something like that? I guessed Morettis did what they wanted when they wanted. Papà should have known from the beginning not to get involved with Dante.
I followed Gianna into a room that looked like a spare, while drying my hair with a towel. She dug through a bag on the bed, and something twisted in my chest. Was she planning on spending the night? Ugh, why did I even care? Dante had pushed me into a damn pool. I didn’t like him at all.
Gianna found a pair of red shorts that had white trim on the edges and up the sides, and a plain white t-shirt. The outfit was from the seventies, right off Farrah Fawcett. I was beginning to wonder where Gianna shopped.
I accepted the clothes and a sports bra-thankfully, Gianna was close to the same size as me in the breast department-and turned around to change.
“Thank you. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I guess I’m just… clumsy.”
Ugh.
Gianna laughed. “You don’t have to lie. I saw Ace push you in.”
I paused with my dress around my waist while I pulled the t-shirt on. “How many saw?”
“Oh, mostly everyone.”
Of course they did. I blew out a breath, shimmied the dress down my hips, and then pulled the shorts on.
Turning around, I saw Gianna lying on the bed, her feet on the floor and her arms stretched above her head. It was an unladylike pose the Candy Voss would have never imitated. And I envied her for it.
“Thank you for the clothes again,” I said. “I’ll wash them and return them to you.”
“Keep them.”
Silence morphed between us, and I had an urge to fill it.
“Does he usually push girls into pools?”