Page 2 of Wicked Villain

Chapter

One

Allegra

The girl staring back at me through the full-length wardrobe mirror looks like she wants to run out of her own skin.

Even with her raven hair styled in an elegant updo, her usually soft green eyes are smudged with dark circles and have that deer-caught-in-the-headlights stare.

Worst is the thing that can’t be seen. That haze of conflict settling around her like an angry rain cloud waiting to burst into a torrential downpour.

The mirror adorned with golden filigree is a work of art, handcrafted on the coast of Sicily, like so many of the treasures filling our Old Westbury manor home.

Whoever created the mirror would have done so with painstaking care, hoping their craftsmanship would please my father, the renowned Corrado D’Auria.

I doubt they ever imagined their beautiful mirror would reflect so many secrets.

So many lies.

I wish I were looking at someone else.

Not myself.

Of all the emotions I can’t stand, I loathe uncertainty the most.

I can deal with fear. God, after twenty years of living under my father’s iron fist, fear is easy. I can even deal with hatred. But uncertainty…

That is torture.

Slow, relentless torture.

You never know what’s going to happen. Or when.

Mama yanks on the satin ribbon laces of my dress. She’s standing behind me. The mirror shows her scrunched-up expression as she focuses on my back.

She waltzed into my bedroom an hour ago, saving me from the small army of stylists Papa hired to polish me into perfection for the evening.

I suck in a sharp breath as Mama pulls the laces way too tight.

God, I can’t breathe.

But…

It’s not the laces. Not really.

It’s my chest. It was already tight. Inside. That clamping sensation spread across my ribs from the moment I woke this morning and remembered what day it was. It felt like I was having a heart attack. As the day pressed on, the feeling grew worse and worse.

I dip my head and take three deep breaths, willing my body to calm.

Calm down, Allegra. Tonight is happening whether you like it or not. You just have to breathe and stay calm. There is nothing else you can do. There are worse things than getting engaged to Danillo Bellandi.

At twenty-seven, Danillo is the eldest Bellandi son and heir to their global empire. Our parents arranged for us to marry after he finished overseeing the family’s European operations. Now that he’s back in New York, his father is eager to finalize the arrangement.

I am not.

If my grandmother were still alive, she’d tell me not to worry about the things I can’t control. Focus on what you can do, she’d rasp in her rusty smoker’s voice.

So, if I don’t want my heart to implode inside my chest, I need to heed that advice. Even if all I can do right now is breathe.