Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
I was sure he would, but how could I help? “Won’t that mean he’ll just want to focus more on revenge?”
“Yes, but he’s a lot more vulnerable than he seems.”
I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but her phone rang. It was Lucien’s father wanting to check up on everyone.
That evening, I was so nervous Lucien had to help me get ready. He buttoned my shirt for me, knotted my tie, fixed my cufflinks, and threaded my belt through its loops.
“I’ve tripled my security force and brought in some of the best men in the country,” Lucien said as he hugged me from behind, surveying us both in the mirror. “I’m going to keep you safe tonight.”
“What about you? Will you be safe?”
“No one who does what I do is ever completely safe.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Lucien brushed my hair back from my face. “Angelo and Devil will see that you’re taken care of if anything happens to me.”
“That’s… I didn’t mean…”
He laid a finger over my lips. “It’s time to go. Don’t worry about anything. Just smile and be pretty. That’s all you need to do tonight.”
“Should I be insulted by that?”
Lucien’s smile made me feel warm all over despite my concern. “Absolutely not. I don’t take just anybody with me to special events.”
“Is that all I am, though? An accessory?” I immediately regretted the words. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer, and now was absolutely not the time to be asking. Lucien might appear calm and controlled, but I knew he was worried about what would happen tonight.
He studied me, his gaze sweeping me from head to toe. “You’re mine. That’s what you are.”
What did that mean to him exactly? I couldn’t help thinking about what Sabrina had said, that he was a lot more vulnerable than he seemed. I knew he was concerned for my safety and the safety of his restaurant patrons, but I couldn’t imagine him ever feeling like I did most of the time: wary, ready for something or someone to jump out at me the way my parents’ murderer had burst right through our door. At any moment, fear might send me running to curl up in a ball under the covers and refuse to come out.
“Ready?” Lucien asked.
I nodded, not sure I could keep my voice steady.
He kissed the side of my head, then laced our fingers together. “Everything will be fine.”
I hoped he was right.
We said little on the ride to the restaurant. There were reporters and photographers standing outside when we arrived. Lucien smiled and wrapped his arm around me as we posed for several pictures. He repeated the same things about how excited he was to be opening this restaurant, how much everyone was going to love the food, and how much care had been taken on the design. He was at his most charming, and I was completely overwhelmed. There I was, on the arm of a man these people considered a celebrity—a dangerous one with no morals—but that only made him more fascinating.
DiGiulio’s interior was stunning. Lucien had given me a tour the day before, but now that it was filled with people, it seemed even more impressive. The decor was sleek and modern, but the warm lighting kept it from feeling cold. The kitchen was open, and I saw the chef and his assistants bustling around. The bar was packed, and the whole room was filled with bright, happy noise. I didn’t normally like crowds, but I felt comfortable there. There was a second floor with a metal and glass stairway leading up to it and tables on both levels. Lucien escorted me up the stairs to a table that allowed us to see most of the lower floor as well as the tables on our level.
As soon as we were seated, the restaurant’s wine steward offered a bottle for Lucien to approve. Once he’d tasted it, she filled my glass and then his. “Let me know if you need anything else, sir.”
“I will. Thank you.”
When she left us, Lucien said, “We’re having the chef’s tasting menu tonight. It will include a selection of other wines, but I wanted to start with this and the calamari. The chef makes the best I’ve ever tasted. If there’s anything additional you would enjoy, all you have to do is ask.”
“Calamari sounds amazing. I just want to try everything.”
He smiled, seeming more relaxed than he had as we’d made our way through the crowd. “I like that about you, your desire to try new things.”
Heat rose in my face. I’d tried a lot of new things with Lucien, and I’d loved every one of them.
The dinner was incredible. Several people, including an actor and a model I recognized, stopped by our table to speak to Lucien. He continued to be at his most charming, though as the evening wore on, his tension grew. Several times he seemed distracted, and I assumed his security team was talking to him through the earpiece he wore.