Chapter 4 Elisa pov
Elisa
If one more person asked me when I was getting married…
…I was going to fake my own death.
“I swear, Grandma Rosa is doing this on purpose,” I muttered, grabbing another mini cannoli from a passing tray.
Nicol laughed beside me.
“She only asked twice.”
“Seven times.”
“Four.”
“Seven.”
Amy shrugged.
“Honestly, I stopped counting.”
I popped the cannoli into my mouth with a satisfied hum.
“Worth it.”
“You’ve eaten enough desserts to feed a kindergarten class.”
“It’s called balance.”
“You’ve had zero actual food.”
“Dessert is food.”
Nicol sighed dramatically.
“I can’t argue with stupid.”
“It’s not stupid if it makes sense.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It does to me.”
The three of us burst into laughter.
For a few hours, I’d managed to forget that I was attending a mafia wedding.
Instead, it almost felt…
Normal.
Families talked.
Children ran across the gardens.
Music floated through the warm afternoon air.
For once, nobody was arguing over territory or shipments.
Just dancing.
Exactly how weddings were supposed to be.
“I’m getting another drink,” Amy announced.
“I’ll come,” Nicol added.
They disappeared toward the open bar, leaving me alone near the dessert table.
Perfect.
No witnesses.
I reached for the last chocolate-covered cannoli on the silver tray.
Another hand reached for it at the exact same time.
Long fingers.
Tattooed knuckles.
Well…
That’s awkward.
I looked up.
Way up.
The man standing in front of me had to be at least six-foot-five.
Broad shoulders filled out a perfectly tailored black suit.
Black hair.
Sharp jaw.
Icy blue eyes that looked almost unreal.
The tattoos disappearing beneath his cuffs only made him more intimidating.
He looked like the kind of man people crossed the street to avoid.
Good thing I wasn’t people.
I looked down at the cannoli.
Then back at him.
“You snooze, you lose.”
Before he could react, I plucked it from the tray.
And took a bite.
While maintaining eye contact.
His expression didn’t change.
Not even a little.
I chewed slowly.
“Delicious.”
Silence.
“…You’re welcome?”
One dark eyebrow lifted.
“I was going to take that.”
“You were.”
I nodded thoughtfully.
“Past tense.”
His gaze dropped to the half-eaten dessert still in my hand.
“You stole it.”
“I prefer the word rescued.”
“It wasn’t asking for help.”
“How do you know?”
For a second…
I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
It disappeared before I could be sure.
“You enjoy arguing.”
“I enjoy winning.”
“You assume you’ve won.”
I held up the remaining half of the cannoli.
“I literally have the evidence.”
He looked at it.
Then at me.
“I’ll survive.”
“I’m glad.”
I smiled sweetly.
“I’d hate to have a homicide investigation over pastry.”
That earned me another almost-smile.
Interesting.
He was handsome.
Ridiculously handsome.
The kind of handsome magazines put on covers.
Unfortunately…
He also looked like he hadn’t smiled voluntarily since birth.
“You’re staring.”
I blinked.
“I was trying to figure out if your face always looks that serious.”
“It does.”
“Ouch.”
“What?”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It isn’t.”
“For you, maybe.”
He folded his arms.
“And for everyone else?”
“I imagine children cry when they see you.”
A tiny voice interrupted us.
“Miss Elisa?”
I turned immediately.
Little Sophia stood beside me, holding a broken pearl bracelet in her tiny hands.
Tears shimmered in her brown eyes.
“It broke.”
“Oh, sweetheart.”
I crouched in front of her.
“Let me see.”
The string had snapped, scattering a few pearls onto the grass.
“Can you fix it?”
“I think so.”
I gathered the tiny pearls while Sophia sniffled beside me.
One by one, I placed them back onto the string, tying the knot as tightly as I could.
“There.”
I fastened it around her wrist.
“As good as new.”
Her entire face lit up.
“Thank you!”
She threw her little arms around my neck before running back toward her parents.
I laughed softly.
“You’re welcome!”
When I stood again…
The stranger was still there.
Watching me.
“What?”
“You fixed it.”
I frowned.
“Shouldn’t I have?”
“Most people would’ve called her mother.”
“It took thirty seconds.”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he simply continued looking at me.
Honestly…
It was a little unnerving.
“So…”
I crossed my arms.
“Do you always stare at strangers?”
“Only interesting ones.”
That…
Caught me off guard.
I recovered quickly.
“You need better hobbies.”
“Perhaps.”
A waiter approached us carrying champagne.
I accepted one glass.
The stranger declined.
“Not drinking?” I asked.
“I work.”
“At a wedding?”
“Especially at weddings.”
I looked him over again.
Expensive suit.
Security constantly glancing in his direction.
People pretending not to look at him.
Ah.
One of those men.
“You must know my brother.”
“I do.”
“I hope you’re not one of the people trying to make him work today.”
“He invited me.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
“It wasn’t.”
For someone with so many words…
He really didn’t say much.
“I don’t think we’ve met.”
“We haven’t.”
“I’m Elisa.”
“I know.”
That made me pause.
“…Should I be concerned?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I extended my hand anyway.
“Nice to officially meet you.”
He looked at my hand for a moment before taking it.
His grip was firm.
Warm.
Mine looked tiny compared to his.
For some reason…
Neither of us let go immediately.
“You still haven’t told me your name.”
“No.”
I laughed.
“Seriously?”
“You’ll hear it soon enough.”
“That mysterious, huh?”
“It isn’t intentional.”
“It feels intentional.”
“It isn’t.”
“You’re terrible at conversations.”
“So I’ve been told.”
I couldn’t help smiling.
“Well…”
I gently pulled my hand back.
“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Mysterious.”
“You too, Miss Cannoli Thief.”
I gasped dramatically.
“I prefer Dessert Liberator.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“You do that.”
Nicol appeared beside me carrying two glasses of champagne.
“There you are! We’ve been looking—”
She stopped mid-sentence.
The color drained from her face.
Her eyes widened.
She looked from me…
To the stranger…
Then back again.
“Oh…”
she whispered.
“Oh, no.”
Before I could ask what was wrong, Amy grabbed Nicol’s arm.
“We have to go.”
“What?”
“Now.”
The two of them practically dragged me away.
I looked over my shoulder.
The stranger hadn’t moved.
He simply stood there, watching me disappear into the crowd.
I leaned toward Nicol.
“What was that about?”
She looked like she’d seen a ghost.
“You…”
she swallowed hard.
“…have absolutely no idea who you were just talking to.”
“No.”
“That’s Dominic Moretti.”
I frowned.
“The Dominic Moretti?”
She nodded.
I glanced back one last time.
He was still standing exactly where I’d left him.
Watching.
For some reason…
A chill ran down my spine.
“Well,” I muttered.
“He could’ve started by introducing himself.”
Behind me, hidden by the music and laughter of the reception…
Dominic Moretti watched the fiery redhead vanish into the crowd.
For the first time in years…
He found himself looking forward to their next conversation.
