The air around the table froze, and it seemed like the entire ballroom was holding its breath.
Mara sat in her chair, perfectly still.
To her left was Marco Vitale, offering his hand with a polite, patient smile. To her right was Nico Ferrante with his hand extended, looking like he was ready to burn the entire building to the ground if she said no.
She looked between the two men as the music swelled in the background.
She looked at Nico's dark, demanding eyes, and then she gave him a very small, very calm smile.
"Tradition also dictates that we don't abandon the guests we arrived with, Don Nico," Mara said smoothly. She glanced over his broad shoulder. "Carla looks incredibly lonely at the high table."
Before Nico could argue, Mara reached out and placed her hand in Marco's.
Marco's fingers closed gently around hers, and he helped her to her feet.
