Page 1 of From Rome, With Hate

ONE

JULIANNA

I used to worry he’d suffocate and die while his face was buried between my thighs, but now I wonder why I worried at all.

It’s probably in poor taste to wish someone was dead. Especially him. Though it’s difficult to think otherwise when you not only hate someone, youloathethem, too.

I’ve hated him my entire life. From the moment I drew my first breath and was placed into my father’s arms, he whispered the same words into my ear as the ones he ended up telling me for the rest of my life. Words that became a promise in the end. An oath.

To protect me from the dangerous Montgomery family.

The rivalry between the Capuletis and Montgomerys goes back generations, and we’ve all been raised never to question the real reasons why. I’m not even certain any of us know the truth at this point, but even if I hadn’t been taught to do so through our generational rivalry, I’dstillhate him.

I haven’t stopped staring at him between the cracks in the enormous flower wall, which my best friend’s wedding planner designed. If I’d been the one to plan the wedding, I probably would have done it slightly different. Charleigh, however, wanted me to leave my interior design and event planningbehind for one night and simply be here as her best friend and maid of honor.

It’s her night after all, so who am I to argue? It still doesn’t keep me from taking note of every design detail, though.

The expansive flower wall is beautiful, dividing the buffet table from the dining room. The gaps aren’t wide enough for me to maintain a clear view ofhisface, but there’s enough for me to see parts of him at a time: his jawline, the sharp angle of his nose, his constantly furrowed brow.

I catch a glimpse of his eyes, piercing me between the petals and stems of mountain laurels. When he looks away, his profile remains, though. A sharp breath cuts the back of my throat. I cough, clearing out the visceral scratch before I take another sip of my champagne. One sip quickly leads to me downing the entire motherfucker before I snatch two more from the server passing me with a full tray and hold one in each hand.

“Thirsty?”

“Yep,” I mutter, keeping my gaze pinned on the man behind the flower wall while grinding my teeth until my jaw hurts.

“Are you all right?” My best friend’s voice is laced with enough worry to snap me out of my trance.

I force myself to turn and look at her. Charleigh’s fucking stunning as a bride. Her wavy curls cascade over her shoulders, the ends resting on top of her flowered, lace, form-fitting white dress. Thankfully, her ridiculously long train is pinned to the back, keeping it from tangling around her feet. I note the pinky blush shadow dusting her soft lids. She’s simply beaming now that she’s married to her first love. Last year, I don’t think Charleigh ever imagined she would be married to the love she thought she’d lost when she was eighteen by forces neither of them could control. Now though, she’s a successful business owner of two floral shops in the biggest city in the world,and she’s married to an equally successful real estate executive, Asher Egan.

I give her a soft smile, shoving the anger I feel for the man I can’t escape aside. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” She smiles back, soothing me by running her hand along my arm. “I’m about to toss the bouquet and figured you wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” I wince, holding up one of my glasses. I peer at her through the empty top half. “I think I may have had one too many of these to catch anything at this point.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with earlier, does it?” She laughs, tipping her head back. Her highlight-dusted cheekbones shimmer under the bright lights of the ballroom.

“Earlier?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, her smile fading. “The bouquet of roses your secret admirer left for you in your hotel room. London and Selene told me about it.” She gives me a leveled look. “And that you threw the flowers in the trash. Normally, I’d be angry at you for throwing them out, but you must have had your reasons.”

I swallow thickly, trying not to look back at the flower wall, but I can still feel him. I imagine him standing on the other side of it, wearing his usual stupid ass, smug grin.

I roll my eyes. “They weren’t from a secret admirer.”

“Oh?” Charleigh’s brows knit as she jerks her chin back. “Are you dating someone again? Unless they’re from one of your exes? If that’s the case, it’s strange for whoever it was to deliver you a bouquet of roses on my wedding day.”

“Something like that,” I mumble before downing the rest of my second glass of champagne.

Charleigh’s assumption that the bouquet delivered to my hotel room was gifted by one of my exes doesn’t surprise me. Up until a year ago, I went through a period of dating anyone who even so much as looked my way.

I drop both my empty glasses onto a passing tray without grabbing another. Not only because the server doesn’t have any left, but the alcohol is already swimming through my veins a little too freely. A fraction of the tension I feel from knowing he’s here has started to dissolve. Albeit, just a fraction.

“Hello, Mrs. Egan!” London shouts from across the ballroom. She gathers the bottom of her sage green bridesmaid gown—one that almost perfectly matches mine and Selene’s—and jogs over to us. Selene quickly follows behind, handing her plate to her husband, who also happens to be my brother Holt.

London’s grin stretches across her gorgeous face, and the tendrils of her black hair frame her eyes. They sparkle as she sighs and grabs hold of Charleigh’s hand. “I thought you said you were ready to toss the bouquet.”

“I am.” She nods in my direction. “I was wrangling this one here. She’s been oddly silent since the ceremony.”