Chapter 49 Chapter 49
Lily
The Roman mansion of the godfather is bathed in golden light, the marble pillars glowing under the lavish crystal chandeliers hanging from the grand ceiling. The entire place feels timeless—like something from an ancient empire reborn for the night. Sebastian holds my hand tightly as we step inside, a quiet nod of acknowledgment exchanged between him and the guards stationed at the entrance.
Inside, the air is thick with the weight of legacy and power. All the key players from the mafia council are here—men in custom suits, women in expensive dresses, the air heavy with perfume and secrets. Glasses clink, subtle glances are exchanged, and behind every smile is a hint of danger.
I take a cocktail from the silver tray of a passing waiter and make my way to a nearby table, letting the soft music and murmurs of conversation wash over me.
Belladonna spots me and glides toward my table, her pink dress shimmering under the lights. She’s graceful and poised, yet there’s something delicate about her tonight. She sits beside me, brushing her hair over her shoulder.
“You look so pretty,” she says sweetly.
I smile warmly. “You look like a goddess,” I reply, and she blushes, her eyes casting down shyly.
Moments later, I see a familiar figure approaching—after so long, it’s almost strange to see him again. Dante.
He walks up to our table with an unreadable expression. “Hi, Belladonna,” he says stiffly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She gives no reaction, no smile, just silence.
Then his gaze shifts to me. “Hi, Lily.” His tone softens slightly. He kisses me on both cheeks like old times and then pulls a chair to sit beside me.
“Hi,” I greet him with a calm smile. “Long time no see.”
He chuckles under his breath. “Yeah. Glad to see you back in New York.”
I nod. “Thanks for bringing back Sebastian.”
His jaw tightens a little, but he nods. “It was my duty.”
“And… thank you for the support you gave me back then,” I add, quietly.
His eyes flash, but the smirk that forms on his lips is a familiar one. “Then you escaped from me…” he teases.
“You lied to me,” I mutter, taking a long sip of my cocktail. My voice soft but sharp. “I hated you. A lot.”
He laughs—a little darker this time. “The past stays in the past, Lily.” He pushes his chair back and rises smoothly. “See you around,” he says, then glances at Belladonna one last time.
“You look pretty,” he tells her—genuinely this time—and then walks away, disappearing into the crowd.
Belladonna watches him go without saying a word.
Sebastian walks toward me with his jaw clenched, his strides heavy and purposeful, the muscle in his cheek ticking with barely restrained anger. The moment he sits down beside me, the warmth in his eyes is gone—replaced by a storm brewing just beneath the surface.
“What was he saying?” he demands, his voice low and sharp like a blade. “And why were you smiling while talking to him?”
I blink, startled for a moment by how fast his mood has shifted. “I thanked him,” I say softly, trying to keep my voice calm, “because he brought you back. You wouldn’t be here if not for him.”
His eyes narrow. “He is your brother, Sebastian.”
“Yes,” he mutters, his tone dark, “he’s also the man who tasted and touched you everywhere.”
His words stab like a knife, and I inhale sharply.
He doesn’t wait for a reply. His fists curl at his sides as he stands abruptly, the chair scraping back with a sharp sound. Without another word, he turns and walks away, shoulders stiff, rage radiating off of him.
I watch him disappear through the crowd, unable to move, my heart sinking. Everyone else around me is laughing, talking, dancing beneath the lights—but all I can see is Sebastian’s back retreating into the shadows.
He’s not just angry. He’s hurt.
“Jealous man,” Bella murmurs under her breath with a sly, sarcastic tone, her lips barely moving as her eyes follow Sebastian’s retreating figure.
I exhale sharply, still staring at the spot where he disappeared into the crowd. “Damn, he is pissed off,” I admit, taking a sip of my cocktail to calm the swirl of emotions inside me.
Bella leans closer, her voice quiet but confident. “Let him be alone, Lily. He’ll be fine. He just needs to cool off. You know how he gets.”
I nod, though a part of me can feel the heaviness of Sebastian’s anger pressing against me even from afar.
Moments later, the godfather steps forward onto the stage, his presence commanding silence. He delivers a short but powerful speech, speaking of loyalty, of strength, of family—the kind of words that hold everyone in rapt attention. I can’t focus on all of it, though, because my eyes keep drifting to the side where Sebastian stands tall and stoic next to him.
Sebastian doesn’t take his gaze off me. Not even for a second.
His stare is burning, sharp, furious. It pins me to my chair, and even in this vast room filled with people, I feel like I’m the only one he sees. The intensity of his eyes sends a chill straight down my spine, and I have to look away before I crumble under it.
As the speech ends, waiters begin serving dinner. The scent of roasted meats, fresh herbs, and rich sauces fills the air. I focus on my plate, grateful for the distraction. The food is exquisite—tender steak, creamy truffle pasta, delicate bites that melt in my mouth. I try to enjoy it, but I can feel the weight of Sebastian’s gaze even from across the room.
Soon the music shifts. A slow, sultry rhythm fills the hall and couples begin to rise from their seats. The polished marble floor becomes a dance floor, the glow of chandeliers reflecting on every moving body. Laughter mingles with music.
I stay seated until a familiar, strong hand extends toward me.
Sebastian.
I look up at him, and those stormy eyes soften just slightly when they meet mine. Without a word, I place my hand in his, and he leads me onto the floor. The moment we’re close, his arm snakes around my waist—not gently, but with a possessive grip that makes my breath hitch. He pulls me flush against him, his hand pressing firmly into the small of my back. Every movement of the dance is charged, not graceful but territorial. His jaw is tight, his lips a firm line.
“You’re angry,” I whisper, looking up at him. He doesn’t answer. His fingers dig in slightly, his eyes locked on mine as he moves us across the floor.
Then, as the music swells, the partners start to switch—an old tradition at these gatherings. Before I can react, someone else’s hand takes mine and I find myself being led away, while Sebastian’s grip is replaced with another’s.
I glance back in surprise, only to see Belladonna now in Sebastian’s arms. She looks as poised as ever, but I can see the tension in her shoulders as he pulls her close.
And then I see who I’ve been paired with—Dante.
He smirks at me as if this was orchestrated. “Well, well,” he says casually, his tone light, almost teasing as he leads me effortlessly into the next step. “Looks like fate wanted me to steal a dance.”
“Seems like it,” I reply, trying to relax, though I can feel Sebastian’s eyes drilling into my back even from across the floor.
Dante leans in slightly and murmurs something that I can’t help but laugh at—a short, unexpected laugh that escapes me before I can stop it. It feels light, like a bubble rising through water.
The moment I glance back toward Sebastian, my laughter fades. His eyes are locked on me, dark and burning with jealousy. Even as he spins Belladonna effortlessly across the floor, his focus never wavers. It’s all on me. Pure rage, pure possession.
In that instant, it feels like the entire hall has gone quiet, the music fading into the background. It’s just the two of us staring at each other across the swirl of dancers, his expression a storm, mine uncertain and caught.
And I know, as sure as I know my own heartbeat that this night isn’t going to end peacefully.