Page 77 of Chains of Recompense
My feet falter, my hand going to my stomach as I try to regain my breath in the shadows before I’m supposed to make my grand entrance.
Evi insisted upon it, but after watching her and Anika go before me—and now that I see Raf’s two other brothers, Gio and Leo, with their wives waiting in the foyer—I don’t know that I have the courage to do it.
Not when the man who will be waiting at the bottom of the steps for me is so far from the Prince Charming it would seem the other four Chiaroscuro brothers have become.
And they truly are something to behold.
Each of them looks so smitten with their wives that it brings tears to my eyes.
I’m not naturally a jealous person.
I’m so grateful for so many things I have in my life.
But it feels unusually cruel that the one man I could have seen myself falling in love with is the very man who’s only agreed topretendto love me until we can get our revenge on the Yakuza.
Pull yourself together, Aisling,I command myself.This isn’t about love or marriage or your happiness. This is about your loyalty to your family. About staying strong for the MurrayClan. They’re the ones who matter. And you get to see them tonight. Think about that. Not him.
The silent pep talk gives me the strength I need, and I take one deep, fortifying breath, then square my shoulders, pulling the black mink shawl tighter around my arms, and start my dramatic descent.
“Wow,” Sandro says beside Evi, his arm tightening around his wife’s waist when he sees me.
Evi squeals with delight. “I know, right? I think it might be my masterpiece.”
My cheeks warm at the open appraisal as all eyes turn to me, and Gio’s wife—Stephanie, I believe, with her black peak-a-boo-highlighted pixie—gasps.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Evi,” Leo’s wife, Sora, says, her eyes gleaming.
I only met Sora and Stephanie briefly at the wedding, but I feel an immediate sense of camaraderie with the women for being married into the Chiaroscuro family, and though I know I’m an imposter, it gives me an oddly reassuring sense of encouragement.
Because they’re all looking at me with an open sense of acceptance—even affection.
Though Sora’s expression carries a hint of… pity?
Especially when her eyes turn to Raf.
It makes my stomach tighten, and I swallow painfully as I turn to find the man whose arm I’ll be on for the rest of the evening.
My heart skips a beat.
He looks devastatingly handsome, dressed in a black tux and crimson tie that matches my dress to perfection.
His hair is perfectly styled, the dark locks combed back from his clean shaven face, showing off his sharp hazel eyes and sculpted lips.
The bruises my brothers gave him two weeks ago have all but faded, the slight discoloration at the corner of one eye acting almost like eyeliner and accentuating his impressively thick, dark lashes.
But it’s his stricken expression that makes my pulse flutter.
My hand suddenly feels clammy against the banister. Because he looks almost convincingly like a man who wants his wife.
“You look lovely tonight,” he murmurs, taking my hand and brushing his lips across my knuckles as I reach the bottom of the stairs.
“Thank you,” I say, hoping my makeup effectively masks the intense heat burning in my cheeks. I take the arm he offers me as I descend the last step. “I never should have doubted your acting abilities,” I whisper as we all filter out the front door to our waiting limo. “Looking at me like that, you could almost havemeconvinced we’re a happy couple.”
Raf’s snort is soft, and still, it cuts like a knife.
“Don’t kid yourself,focosa. Not everything has to be an act between us. I would have to be blind not to appreciate you in that dress. But I don’t think anyone is under the misimpression that you and I are happy together.”
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