Chapter 90 CHAPTER 090

Chapter 90 CHAPTER 090
A few hours later, the dining room had transformed.

The table was cleared, the chairs pushed aside, opening the space into something looser, more social.

Along one wall, a bar had been set up, staff moving quietly as they poured wine and whiskey.

The lights dimmed, casting the room in a softer glow, while classical music drifted through the low hum of conversation.

It was exactly the kind of gathering Anna imagined rich people enjoyed.

Everyone looked relaxed, but the ease felt rehearsed, every laugh and gesture carefully measured.

Across the room, women gathered in small groups, their jewelry glinting beneath the lights as they whispered about luxury vacations, designer handbags, and houses so massive they barely needed renovating.

Anna drifted away from the crowd, knowing she didn’t belong there.

She stopped near a floor-to-ceiling window, half-hidden in the shadows, and pressed her back against the cool glass, letting out a slow breath.

From there, she could see Vincenzo across the room with a group of men in dark suits, whiskey glasses in hand.

Someone said something that drew laughter from the others, but Vincenzo only nodded.

Then his gaze lifted.

And locked onto Anna from across the room.

She looked away first, turning from him and moving farther off, stopping where she was sure she could barely be seen.

Boredom settled heavily over her as she stared out the window.

She had nothing to do, no one to talk to, and nowhere to rest her attention.

The other women had already made it clear she didn’t belong among them, their hushed conversations and subtle glances enough to keep her at a distance.

And honestly, she would rather be alone in her solitude than somewhere she wasn’t wanted.

Without even a phone or a drink to occupy herself, time seemed to drag endlessly.

She watched the city below—cars passing, the constant rush of movement, the restless hum of life.

Then her gaze dropped to her palm, her fingertip tracing the faint lines there in slow, absent patterns.

Her thoughts drifted back to the mansion—and the comfort of Vincenzo’s bed.

“Ugh… I can’t wait to get out of here,” she muttered.

“Hey, beautiful.”

The voice came from behind her, low and smooth, making Anna jerk slightly away from the window.

She turned to find a man approaching with a glass of red wine in his hand.

He looked young, probably in his late twenties, dressed in an expensive suit tailored perfectly to his frame.

He stopped a little too close, and she instinctively stepped back until her back touched the glass again.

“Hey,” she said, forcing a small smile and hoping it looked polite instead of nervous.

He lifted his glass slightly toward her. “Want a drink?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

He gave a small smirk. “Not even a sip? You can share mine.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to the glass before returning to him.

Something about the way he looked at her made unease curl low in her stomach.

“Thank you,” she said carefully, “but I really don’t want a drink.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You don’t drink alcohol?”

“No. I don’t,” she replied.

He nodded slowly. “That’s nice.” He took a sip from his glass, his eyes still fixed on her. “I’ll tell you a little secret.”

He leaned closer, the scent of cologne and alcohol drifting toward her. “I’m not really much of a drinker.”

She raised an eyebrow slightly. “Oh, is that so?”

He either didn’t notice her disbelief or didn’t care.

“Yeah,” he said, taking another sip. “I’m only drinking because everyone else is. Otherwise I’d look out of place.” He gestured lazily around the room. “Social pressure.”

Anna stayed quiet.

The excuse sounded ridiculous, but she was too tired to argue with him about it.

“Okay,” she said simply, already done with the conversation.

He didn’t take the hint.

“I don’t even want to be here,” he continued. “I’m only here because my dad couldn’t make it and sent me instead.”

“Oh.” She faked a concerned look.

“To make things worse, I didn’t even have time to pick a partner. Now I have no one to talk to because I clearly don’t relate to their boring-ass mafia and business talk.”

She nodded. “I completely understand you.”

Leaning against the glass beside her, he moved close enough that his arm nearly brushed hers.

“Who are you here with?” he asked casually.

She hesitated for a moment before she finally spoke. “Vincenzo Romano.”

His brows lifted slightly. “Oh. You’re the woman he introduced as his wife.”

Heat rushed to Anna’s cheeks.

Vincenzo’s wife.

The title still felt strange, like something that belonged to someone else.

The man let out a soft laugh. “Your husband is kind of scary.”

Anna smiled, and this time it came more easily. “He’s not that bad. Trust me.”

He chuckled. “Okay, if you say so.”

He studied her for a moment, then held out his free hand. “I’m Jonathan. And you are…?”

“Anna.” She slipped her hand into his.

His grip was firmer than she expected.

“Anna,” he repeated slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Pretty name for a beautiful woman.”

She hesitated, unsure how to respond without encouraging him further.

“Thanks,” she said finally, pulling her hand back.

“Can I get your number?” he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

The question settled heavily in her chest.

She didn’t have a phone, hadn’t replaced it since leaving her old life, but she couldn’t tell him that.

“I just got my number changed, so I don’t know it yet,” she said instead, the lie slipping out too easily.

He didn’t seem discouraged.

“Alright, I’ll just put mine in. Let me have your phone.” He stretched out his free hand.

Her pulse picked up. “My phone’s in the car… I left it there.”

He studied her for a moment, the smile fading slightly. “Ah… alright. No problem.”

He drained his glass in one long swallow and set it down on the table behind her.

As he leaned past her, his arm brushed her shoulder.

She flinched, a small gasp slipping out before she could stop it.

He pulled back slightly, but not far enough to give her space. His face was still close, his gaze fixed on hers.

“You’re even prettier up close,” he said quietly. “Too bad I won’t be getting your number.”

She forced a nervous smile, pressing her lips together as she edged back—but her shoulders met the window.

She shifted to the side, trying to create distance.

Before she could move further, Jonathan’s hand caught her waist.

His fingers pressed into her side as he pulled her forward, closing the small gap between them.

Her breath caught.

She lifted her hands to his chest, trying to push him back, but he didn’t move.

“Where are you going?” he asked, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“You should let me go,” she said, trying to wrench herself free from his grip.

Instead of releasing her, he pulled her closer, his arm tightening around her waist until there was no space between them at all.

His face dipped toward hers, lips barely a breath away.

She saw the amusement in his eyes and instantly knew what he was about to do.

Her breath turned uneven.

Heat from his exhale brushed her mouth as she turned her head slightly away, tension coiling through her.

“Please let me go—”

"What the hell are you both doing?" Vincenzo's voice sliced through the space, sharp and dead cold.