Page 85 of The Serpent's Bride
My eyes narrowed. My cousin leaned beside Chiara now, saying something with that permanently smug expression that made me want to break his jaw with my bare hands. He bent slightly closer toward her, and I noticed the exact second her body stiffened.
Her gaze dropped. Not shy. Upset. Something ugly scraped beneath my skin.
Before I could move, Sergio shifted closer beside me. “Careful.”
“I’m always careful,” I reminded him.
“That,” he muttered, “is the biggest lie you’ve ever told. You’re careless around her.”
Maybe he was right.
Angelo smirked at whatever quiet response Chiara gave him before disappearing back into the crowd. The second he left her side, I moved.
People parted automatically as I crossed the ballroom. Fear did that. Power did that. Conversations lowered the closer I got to her.
Chiara finally looked up at me. And there it was again. That silence. No glare. No biting remark. Just exhaustion and something colder underneath it.
My palm settled possessively against the small of her back. Heat seeped through the silk beneath my hand.
“You’re quiet,” I murmured.
“I’m tired,” she whispered.
I searched her face closely. “Did someone upset you?”
“No,” she lied. But before I could push further, another wave of guests approached us with fake smiles and congratulations dripping from their mouths.
My patience snapped clean in half. Enough.
“The reception is over,” I announced flatly. Confused murmurs spread across the ballroom.
Chiara blinked up at me. “What?”
Before anyone could object, I slid one arm beneath her knees and lifted her effortlessly into my arms. She gasped softly, instinctively clutching my jacket as whispers exploded around the room.
“Here we go,” Sergio muttered behind me. I ignored him completely.
Chiara’s perfume wrapped around me. Vanilla. White florals. Something sweet underneath that was just her skin. I inhaled once and nearly groaned from the effect it had on me.
“Leo,” she hissed quietly, mortified. “Put me down.”
“I don’t think so,” I said firmly.
“Everyone’s staring.”
“Good,” I hissed.
Her cheeks flushed pink beneath the ballroom lights. All my possessive thoughts slammed into me harder this time, nearly violent in their intensity.
Behind us, Sergio’s cold voice cut through the room. “Party’s over. Finish your drinks and leave peacefully.”
Nobody argued. Not with Sergio because it meant arguing with me, and no one dared piss off The Serpent.
The elevator ride upstairs felt unbearable. Chiara stayed strangely still in my arms while the city lights climbed higher around us through mirrored glass walls. Her gaze stayed fixed near my throat instead of meeting my eyes.
Something was wrong. I could feel it now.
The penthouse doors slid open silently. I carried her through dark hallways lit by low amber sconces until we reached the wedding suite waiting upstairs. Candlelight flickered across black marble when I pushed the doors open one-handed.
