Chapter 184

Chapter 184
I decided I needed to escape the kitchen. The throbbing in my temples intensified with every minute I spent preparing desserts for Franco's big night. Especially now that I knew he was systematically taking everything the Vasquez brothers had—even eyeing Dante's position in the family.

Amelia's words echoed in my mind as I wiped my hands on a dish towel. Franco had always been ambitious, but this was something else entirely. This was calculated. Dangerous.

"Where are you going?" Amelia called, glancing up from the tiramisu she was meticulously decorating. "The kitchen work isn't finished yet."

I forced a smile that felt brittle on my face. "I just need some air."

Amelia shook her head, gesturing toward the stack of mini cannoli that still needed filling. "We don't have time for breaks, Beatrice. The guests are already arriving."

"Just five minutes," I promised, backing toward the door. "I'll be right back."

She called after me, but I was already slipping into the corridor, desperate to escape the suffocating heat of the kitchen and my own racing thoughts.

The mansion's grand hall was packed with guests, like ants swarming over the Vasquez family's opulent home. Men in tailored suits and women dripping in diamonds mingled under crystal chandeliers, their laughter too loud, their smiles too practiced.

I weaved through the crowd, trying to remain invisible. The last thing I needed was another confrontation with Maria after our earlier encounter in the driveway.

Suddenly, a hand gripped my wrist, yanking me into a shadowed alcove beneath the grand staircase. I whirled around, heart hammering, only to find myself face to face with Salvatore Vasquez.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed, immediately pulling my arm free. "Someone could see us!"

His dark eyes gleamed with something between amusement and urgency. He wore an all-black custom suit with a blood-red tie, his hair still damp from a shower and falling messily across his forehead.

"I need to talk to you," he said, his voice low. "Privately."

I glanced nervously over my shoulder. Being seen with Salvatore would start rumors, and rumors could be deadly in this world—especially for him.

"No," I said firmly, giving him a warning look. "You need to stay away from me."

He smirked, leaning against the wall. "You think those beautiful big eyes of yours are going to scare me off?"

"I'm serious, Salvatore. After what happened with your mother in the garden—"

"I need to see you," he interrupted, his playful demeanor shifting to something more intense. "I'll be waiting in my room. Come find me when you can slip away."

Before I could protest further, he disappeared into the crowd of expensively dressed guests, leaving me alone beneath the staircase with my pulse racing.

I was about to follow him—to tell him exactly how stupid and dangerous his request was—when Antonio Vasquez appeared at the top of the grand staircase. The crowd immediately hushed. Even in a sea of powerful men, Antonio commanded attention. His white custom suit contrasted sharply with his olive skin, and his presence seemed to fill the entire room.

"Ladies and gentlemen," his voice boomed across the hall, "I invite you all to join me in the rear gardens for the evening's main celebration."

The guests obediently began to move toward the garden doors. I stood frozen, feeling conspicuous in my simple dress among the designer gowns and tailored suits. As the hall emptied, I found myself alone, staring up at the now-vacant staircase where Antonio had stood moments before.

My mind raced with thoughts of Salvatore waiting upstairs. What could be so urgent that he'd risk being seen with me? I remembered how his mother had caught us kissing in the rain, how she'd looked at me with such contempt. How could Salvatore still want anything to do with me after that?

I noticed that Matteo wasn't among the guests tonight. Word was that both he and his mother Lydia would arrive later—if they showed up at all. The tension in the Vasquez family had been palpable since Enzo's death, fracturing what was once an unbreakable unit.

I can't just stand here doing nothing, I thought, looking toward the stairs. The kitchen work would wait. Amelia would be furious, but I'd deal with that later.

Decision made, I carefully ascended the staircase, my heart pounding with each step. The second floor was eerily quiet compared to the bustling celebration below. I moved cautiously down the hallway, passing the guest room where I had briefly stayed. A large padlock now hung on its door—a small detail that sent a chill down my spine.

I continued past Enzo's room, my heart breaking all over again at the sight of his closed door. The memory of his smile, his kindness, the way he'd made me feel safe—it all crashed over me in a wave of grief that nearly took my breath away.

Finally, I reached Salvatore's room at the end of the hall. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the corridor. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open and stepped inside.

Salvatore immediately closed the door behind me, his movements quick and purposeful. In the privacy of his room, away from prying eyes, he looked different—more vulnerable somehow, with none of the arrogance he typically displayed.

"I've missed you," he said, stepping closer to me. "I know that sounds crazy, but I have."

I could see the strain on his face, the dark circles under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights. For a moment, I forgot all the reasons I should leave, all the dangers of being alone with him.

"Salvatore—"

"Being with you," he cut me off, his voice earnest, "makes all of this shit bearable."

He gestured vaguely, encompassing the mansion, the family, the weight of being a Vasquez. Then he looked directly into my eyes with an intensity that made my breath catch.

"I don't care what happens if my father finds out about us."

"He would strip you of your rights, your position," I warned, though part of me thrilled at his recklessness.

Salvatore's lips curved into a defiant smile. "No one takes what's mine. Not even Antonio Vasquez."

He stepped closer, eliminating the space between us until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. My back pressed against the door as he leaned in, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I love you, Beatrice," he whispered, the words hanging in the air between us. "I know you want it too. You want to be with me only."

My heart hammered against my ribs as he continued, "We could leave. Get away from all of this. Just you and me."