Page 64 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

I’m standing with Celine now.

She’s mid-conversation, her hand lightly resting against my arm as she thanks me for how everything turned out.

“You’ve outdone yourself.” Her voice is warm, a little breathless, still riding the high of being watched, admired, and celebrated. Her eyes sweep the room like she’s still taking it all in. “It feels like… more than what I imagined.”

“That’s the goal,” I smile, already scanning past her, still working even when I’m standing still.

“Christine.” The sound of Daniel's voice drops.

I turn.

He's drunk, it's obvious. Alcohol lingers on him without disguise, loosening everything that should be held together. His movements are less detailed, his smile wider, a little too easy, his eyes dragging slower when they land on me.

“Dance with me,” he declares, like some orator. “You’ve been running this whole night, you deserve one.”

Celine laughs softly beside me, nudging him lightly.

“That’s actually sweet,” she agrees, unaware, her gaze flicking between us with something close to approval. “Go. You should.”

I hesitate, not just because he's a jerk. But because this is still my event. And this is still her night.

But anything to make the bride happy.

“Just one.” I nod.

His hand finds mine too quickly and I don’t like the way it grips.

We move to the floor.

The music is slower now, softer, wrapping around the room instead of filling it. His hand slides to my waist, pulling me closer than necessary, his grip not tight enough to call out, but not light enough to ignore either.

I keep the distance where I can.

He closes it where he wants.

“Missed this,” he murmurs, his breath too close to my ear, his words meant only for me.

I don’t respond, keeping my focus ahead… In the room. On anything but him.

But his hand starts to move. Not too fast or obvious to draw attention. Still, it makes my skin crawl.

“Still pretending you don’t feel anything?” He whispers, his voice dropping lower, dirtier, like the room doesn’t exist around us.

My stomach flips from disgust. I shift slightly, trying to reset the space between us.

He follows.

His fingers press a little firmer, sliding down my back to below my waist, enough to make it clear this isn’t accidental.

“Daniel,” I warn under my breath, my voice clipped. “Keep it appropriate.”

He chuckles against my ear.

“In front of everyone?” He drawls. “Relax. I know how to behave.”

He doesn’t, his hand sliding lower, his finger pressing against my butt crack.

I pull back, breaking the rhythm, about to walk away when I see Celine and a few of her friends moving closer. Smiling.