Page 110 of Modern Romance May 2026 Books 5-8
But as I sit next to Aiden, as he lays his hand over mine while he sips on his drink, his words echo in my head.
“I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
When our fake engagement ends, I won’t be able to stay. Can’t continue to work alongside him knowing how his bare chest feels beneath my hands, the taste of his lips, the feel of him inside me. Won’t be able to see him resume his dating life and watch him go out with a parade of women.
I look up as Aiden squeezes my hand, give him a bright smile when he shoots me a questioning glance. I’ll deal with my emotions later. For now, I’ll focus on playing the role and doing whatever I can to sell our ruse.
A ruse that, for me, is becoming all too real.
Chapter Twelve
Aiden
GLASS TRUMPET VASESoverflowing with white gardenias and violet roses line the stone staircase of the Palazzo Pisani Moretta. I greet guests as they step from their water taxis and gondolas into the hall.
After our meeting with Randolph, I left for the Palazzo Pisani Moretta for a final walkthrough. Seraphina opted to stay behind and relax on the hotel’s rooftop terrace. The night apart bothered me more than it should have, but I needed to keep my focus on the gala. And it provided a perfect opportunity for me to have one last gift delivered.
A gift she’s wearing now as she stands by my side. The black halter gown had been brought over, along with several other evening gowns that would have paired well with a mask for tonight’s event. But when I saw this dress in a storefront just off St. Mark’s Square yesterday, I knew I had to buy it for her.
I glance over at her. The dress is comprised of swaths of orange, yellow and white fabric that cling to her torso and cinch at the waist before falling into graceful folds in a sweeping skirt trimmed in red. Diaphanous sleeves give her a mystical flare, while the matching mask shimmers in the dim lighting.
She looks like a fire goddess come to life. Primal satisfaction curled through me when I walked into the hotel lobby and saw she had chosen to wear the dress. That and my ring on her finger mark her as mine to the dozens of tuxedoed men who are eyeing her with appreciation.
Except she’s not yours. Not really, a voice whispers in my ear.
No, she’s not. But in this moment, to the public, she’s mine. Even if that perception may not extend to reality, I wanted to do this for her. I can’t recall the last time I enjoyed buying gifts for someone, of discovering something that fits them just right rather than opting for the highest price tag.
And that was before she talked to Randolph. I hadn’t planned on letting her take the lead. But as soon as she started talking, I knew it was the right thing to do. She knows my clients, knows what makes them tick. I watched the older man’s face as she spoke, saw him soften as she spun a story of new lovers just wanting some time to themselves.
“Ready to go up?”
She looks up at me, her eyes bright green behind the fire hues of her mask.
“I am.” Her grin is infectious. “I’m excited.”
“I’m glad.”
And I am. It’s like seeing the masquerade through fresh eyes. As we ascend the stairs, I allow myself a small smile. My mother would have loved this. She’d always dreamed of visiting Venice, of buying a jeweled mask and attending a masquerade. The proceeds from tonight’s benefit go toward a mentorship program for foster kids back in New York. I started it in memory of her, to honor her hard work even though she never got to see it pay off.
The Grand Hall’s walls glow mauve from the lights placed along the baseboards. Waiters pass through the crowd with silver platters of champagne, grilled scallops with black truffle dust, zucchini flower tempura and beef carpaccio rosettes. Several buffet tables are arranged against the walls, including a raw bar with a tower of oysters and a caviar and champagne station. A trio of musicians stationed at the far end fill the room with classic Italian songs as couples walk by, dressed in custom costumes or evening wear by brands like Chanel and Gucci.
“This is incredible.” Seraphina looks up at me with shining eyes. “You’ve done a wonderful job.”
Before I can respond, a hand clamps down on my shoulder.
“There you are!”
Cassian moves in front of me and grins. He’s dressed in black trousers and a black vest with a maroon-colored coat that falls almost to his knees. His black mask glitters in the dim light. Warmth flickers in my chest. It matters that he’s here.
I grasp his hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” His gaze turns to Seraphina, his eyes widening appreciatively. I bite back a growl. Cassian may play the field just as much as I used to, but I trust him. He would never seduce a woman who’s taken. But that doesn’t mean he won’t flirt. A thought I don’t care for as he grabs Seraphina’s hand and raises it to his lips.
“Good evening, sis.”
A startled laugh escapes Seraphina’s lips. “What?”
Cassian points to the emerald ring. “Your engagement.”
