THE WAY WE WERE BEFORE

LLA'S

marble floor. Powerful mafia families move through the room, exchanging fake smiles and e

eighteen, and my father threw a grand party to celebrate. The estate was filled with guests, business colleagues, enemies pretending to be friends, and, of course, their ever-watchful wives. I could hear their whispers as I walked past. "Why is this young girl putting on such a revealing dress? They keep sp

on the deck, smiling sheepishly as he speaks to the other. The second, ta

oss the room, I can feel his commanding presence. His dark blue eyes sca

nzo R

illings and kidnappings. His reputation precedes him, nobody dares cross his path. Beside him, his younger brother Matte

mmediately. Even with his back partially turned, his stiff posture and commanding aura never go unnoti

the way. A woman from the Marcello family stops me, her lips curvi

stand out and look unique." My voice was polite, but there was a sharpness

ing hands with Vincenzo. "Ah, Vincenzo," he said

olite smile and step forward, stretching out my

ck shake, and lets go. "I'm sure it is," h

. "The gala is breathtaking, don't you think?" I ask, stud

sip of his drink. "I

, murmuring under my

ediate contrast to Vincenzo's. He smiles warmly, his eyes twinkling with amusemen

oyance. "If I had to guess, I'd say he doesn'

k. But that's what makes him Vincenzo Romano, I suppose. Always serious, always calcula

f my mouth lifting slightly

the one who gets to enjoy these events while Vincenzo broods in the corner." He leans in slightly, l

and gives me a playful salute. "Duty calls. But don't wor

undeniably charming, but my mind drifts back to Vincenzo.

contact or any contact whatsoever but then as I looked it dawned

. Waiters walking to and fro through the crowd with trays of champagne, the soft tone

o spends several minutes telling the virtues of her new villa in Lake Como

. I can feel his presence even when I'm not looking. It's ironic that I crave

ick quip about the absurdity of the Marcello family's outfits. His humor is

y is preparing to leave, I'm exhausted, both physically and emotionally. As I walk toward the exit, I

I guess I don't fit i

r at least, that's