Page 4 of My Sunfall

I roll my eyes. Why does he dislike Nathan so much? It’s not as if they knew each other that well, or that they were competing against each other. They are not even living in the same world. Nathan is a professional swimmer, and Lucas owns an investment company.

“Well then,” I reply lightly. “If you need to throw a stone at someone, I have a trust fund, too.”

“But you, sweetheart”— he winks down at me—“are my trust fund baby.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible.” I groan and he throws his head back, laughing loudly, not caring that he is attracting attention.

I shake my head but can’t refrain a chuckle from bubbling out. He is like that—sunny, unapologetic, and disarming. And blindingly handsome, a voice chimes in my head. I swallow as panic begins to crawl up my throat.

When the song ends, he releases me and I quickly flee to the bathroom. I am flustered from our dance, and jittery because I still haven’t found the courage to talk to him. I breathe through my nose a few times until my heartbeat slows to a normal speed.

Once I am more composed, I return to the ballroom, deciding to seek him out before my resolve falters. But as soon as I step through the doors, a tall body blocks my way.

Nathan.

I look up into his face as he steps closer. “I believe this dance is mine.” He grins and takes my hand before I can reply.

“This is a kidnapping.” I laugh.

“It is,” he concedes, with a chuckle. “But if abducting you is the only way to dance with you, so be it.”

“Nathan, you could’ve just asked.” I huff, amused.

He pulls me closer and we begin to dance. “Call me Nate,” he demands.

“Like when we were kids?” I smile. “I wouldn’t dare, we are grown-ups now and you are the mayor’s son.”

His face becomes thoughtful. “I’m still the same boy who followed you around like a lost puppy.”

“More like you followed my lunch,” I tease.

“Yeah, that too.” He grins. “You had the best peanut butter sandwiches your sister made, and you always slipped me half of yours.” We both chuckle at the fond memories.

But then his face grows serious again. “Chiara…”

I look up at him, intrigued. His face is solemn, his gaze intense, and I suddenly feel irrational dread making my heart beat faster.

“I know that in your circle I need to talk to your father first. But I want you to know that I will go and ask for his blessing to marry you.”

“Wh-what?” I stammer. My footing slips and I catch myself on his chest. This…this can’t be real. I am suddenly lightheaded.

“When we were kids, I had this huge crush on you for as long as I can remember, and the second I saw you again last year, I knew it wasn’t a mere crush.”

The champagne I had been drinking begins to creep up my throat and I start to suffocate.

“Nathan, I-I don’t know what to say,” I stutter. “It’s…so sudden,” I finish lamely.

“Say yes, say you’ll be my wife. I’ll run for Senate in a few years and you’ll be by my side, as my anchor, the mother of my children. Both our families are powerful. We make the perfect couple.”

I inhale sharply. I am going to be sick.

“Tell me what I should do, who I need to talk to, to make you mine.” He is gripping my forearms painfully, lips pressed into a stubborn line.

My mind blanks and I gape at him, eyes wide. Is he really proposing to me? Or rather, negotiating the pawn who will complement his public image?

“Is it your father?” he goes on, missing the shock on my face. “Or the head of your”—his voice drops to a whisper against my ear—“Mafia?”

I recoil and look up sharply at him. The famiglia is not a big secret for those with power in this city, but we still never talk about this with outsiders.