REUNITED IN BED

Startled, I turned to find Silvio standing behind me. His sharp, dark eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my breath hitch. Dressed in a flawlessly tailored black suit, he exuded an aura of authority and danger that seemed to command the attention of everyone in the room.

“You’re late,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended, though relief coursed through me at the sight of him.

Silvio smirked, stepping closer. “Had business to handle,” he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for further questions.

I crossed my arms, tilting my head as I took in his slightly disheveled appearance. “Couldn’t spare a moment to fix your tie before walking in?”

His smirk deepened. “I thought you might enjoy the privilege of fixing it for me, Mrs. Argento.”

I rolled my eyes but stepped closer, reaching up to adjust the crooked tie. “Bend down,” I ordered, my tone brisk.

To my surprise, Silvio complied without protest, lowering himself slightly to my height. The gesture was uncharacteristically docile for a man like him. As I straightened his tie, my fingers brushed against the soft fabric of his shirt. His cologne—a rich, woody scent with subtle smoky undertones—enveloped me, stirring an unbidden warmth in my chest.

For a moment, I allowed myself to study his face. His sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and the few rebellious strands of hair that fell across his forehead made him look less like the ruthless head of the Argento family and more like a man who, under different circumstances, might have been approachable.

“You look…” I hesitated, struggling to find the right word, “…presentable now.”

“Only presentable?” he teased, his deep voice laced with amusement.

I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t push your luck.”

He chuckled, the sound soft and unexpected, but before I could react, a murmur from nearby caught my attention.

“Do you think she even knows what she’s gotten herself into?” a woman whispered to her companion as they passed by.

I stiffened, my gaze snapping toward the retreating figures, but before I could follow the sound, Silvio’s hand gently cupped my chin, turning my face back to him.

“Focus on me,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

There was something in his tone that made it impossible to argue. My breath hitched as his thumb brushed lightly against my jaw before retreating.

“You’re drawing attention, Martina,” he added, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “In that dress, you could make a man forget his name.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, but I masked it with a scoff. “I’m sure you’d be immune to such distractions, Silvio.”

His smirk deepened. “You’d be surprised.”

Before I could formulate a response, a familiar voice called out to me.

“Martina!”

I turned to see Serafina weaving through the crowd, her blonde hair gleaming under the chandeliers. Antonio followed closely behind her, his dark eyes scanning the room warily. Relief washed over me as I rushed to greet them, pulling Serafina into a tight embrace.

“You look stunning!” Serafina gushed, holding me at arm’s length to admire my dress.

“You’re one to talk,” I replied, taking in her soft blue gown that accentuated her delicate features.

“Don’t forget about me,” Antonio interjected with mock indignation, his lips curving into a teasing smile.

I laughed, turning to him. “You look dashing as always, Antonio. Happy now?”

“Marginally,” he quipped, though his grin widened.

For a moment, it felt like old times—before the weight of our respective worlds had settled on our shoulders. But the lighthearted mood shifted when their gazes darkened with concern.

“Martina,” Serafina began hesitantly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you… okay? Did he hurt you?”

The question struck like a blow, and I glanced over my shoulder instinctively. Silvio stood a short distance away, his back to us as he surveyed the room, but I could feel his presence as if he were right beside me.

“No,” I said firmly, shaking my head. “He hasn’t hurt me. I swear.”

Antonio’s jaw tightened. “If he’s done anything—”

“He hasn’t,” I cut in, stepping back and spreading my arms. “Look at me. Do I look like someone who’s been hurt?”

Antonio’s eyes roamed over me, searching for any sign of distress. Finally, he nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But if he so much as lays a finger on you—”

“He won’t,” I assured him, my voice softer now.

The tension eased slightly as the conversation shifted to lighter topics. For a while, we laughed and reminisced, the weight of the evening momentarily forgotten.

Eventually, though, they had to leave, called away by an urgent matter at the Moretti estate. I watched them disappear into the crowd, my heart aching with the longing to follow them.

As I turned back to the ballroom, I realized Silvio was gone. My chest tightened, unease creeping in. Where had he vanished to?

“Looking for someone?”

Startled, I turned to find a young woman seated at a nearby table. She was striking, with sharp cheekbones and dark eyes that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. Her lips curved into a faint smile as she gestured to the empty chair beside her.

“Silvio,” I replied cautiously. “Have you seen him?”

She tilted her head, studying me with an intensity that made me uneasy. “He stepped out a while ago. Didn’t say where.”

“Oh.” Disappointment and worry mingled in my chest.

“Sit,” she said, her tone more of a command than an invitation. “Have a drink. He’ll turn up.”

Reluctantly, I sat, but when she slid a glass of champagne toward me, I hesitated.

She noticed my wariness and smirked. “Relax. If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn’t waste time poisoning your drink.”

Her bluntness sent a chill through me, but she took a sip from the glass herself as if to prove a point.

“In this world, trust is dangerous,” she said, her tone almost conversational, though her words felt like a warning.

I studied her carefully. “And who are you?”

“Isabella,” she replied, extending a hand.

“Martina,” I said, shaking it warily.

Her grip was firm, her expression calm, but her eyes betrayed a sharpness that unsettled me.

“You’re new to all this,” she observed, gesturing vaguely at the room. “Let me give you a piece of advice. Be careful who you trust—even those closest to you.”

Her words lingered long after she disappeared into the crowd, leaving me alone with the sinking realization that in this world, I could trust no one—not even the man I called my husband.