Chapter 3 He Said She Could Handle It
731 Words
The ballroom at DeLuca Estate glowed beneath rows of chandeliers. Onstage, Leo formally introduced Selena Valenti to every major crime family in Greyhaven.
I sat on a sofa at the far edge of the room. Though I was officially the DeLuca family's eldest daughter, not a single person came near me that night.
In the center of the ballroom, someone asked Selena with a laugh, "What does Kane do when he can't sleep?"
"He drinks warm water and listens to vinyl records," she answered without hesitation.
Compliments immediately poured in. Kane stood at Selena's side with a glass of water and didn't correct her.
Someone joked that they were made for each other. Selena lowered her head as though embarrassed, while Kane remained silent. To everyone watching, his silence was confirmation.
A woman turned toward me. "Viola, you're always at Moretti Group. What do you know about him?"
"When he can't sleep, his room has to be kept at 63 degrees Fahrenheit."
The crowd went quiet for a moment, then burst into laughter.
"You even know what temperature he keeps his bedroom? That's creepy."
Another woman laughed and pressed, "What, have you slept in his bed?"
I looked at Kane. He knew the answer, but he didn't say a word in my defense. The nights that had belonged only to us had become a humiliation I couldn't explain.
"She's about to be traded off to Westbridge, and she still has that attitude."
Lucas Costa dropped onto the sofa beside me and slid a hand around my waist.
"You'll probably spend your marriage alone anyway. Why don't I teach you a few things tonight before you go?"
His fingers crept lower through the fabric of my dress. Everyone saw, but no one intervened. Without Kane's public protection, they no longer saw me as a person. I was just a piece of property about to be sent out of Greyhaven.
I flung my whiskey in Lucas's face, smashed the glass, and pressed a jagged shard to his throat.
"Get lost."
Lucas's bodyguards drew their guns, and the ballroom fell silent. Kane pushed through the crowd and walked toward me.
The jagged edge bit into the back of my hand as I tightened my grip. Kane's gaze dropped to the thin line of blood. I thought he would at least take my side, as he always had before.
Just before he reached me, Selena suddenly clutched her chest.
"Kane... I can't breathe."
Kane stopped, turned, and swept Selena into his arms. He glanced at me, his eyes passing over the broken glass in my hand.
"Viola has been trained since she was a child. She can handle it."
He carried Selena out of the ballroom.
I opened my hand, and the glass fell onto the carpet.
On the drive home along the coastal highway, I accelerated to 80 miles per hour. As I approached a sharp turn, I hit the brakes, but the pedal sank to the floor without resistance.
The car didn't slow down.
The speedometer kept climbing. My high beams lit the guardrail ahead, and beyond it lay the black sea.
Jagged rocks lined the shore to my right. I wrenched the steering wheel, and the front of the car slammed into a concrete barrier. The airbag struck my chest. Metal shrieked around me, and only Kane's words remained in my mind.
'She can handle it.'
When I woke again, I was lying in a standard shared hospital room. A nurse told me I had two cracked ribs and a mild concussion. No family member had come to see me.
I waited a few seconds, then looked toward the door despite myself. It stayed empty.
"What about Selena? She was brought in with me, wasn't she?"
"She was only frightened. Mr. Moretti booked the entire VIP floor and called in three teams of specialists for her."
I had nearly died on the highway and been left in a shared room, while the woman who had only been frightened received all his concern and attention.
I closed my eyes. The phone beside my bed suddenly vibrated. My private security team in Westbridge had sent a surveillance still.
In the image, Selena's maid was carrying an old wooden box out of my bedroom. The lid hung slightly open, revealing a corner of white silk.
It was the wedding dress my mother had left me.
- Writer
