The Rules of Risk

"You look beautiful, Mama!" Sofia's voice cut through my spiral of anxiety as I stared at my reflection-at Valentina's reflection.

"The most beautiful," Luna echoed, her small hands reaching for the hem of my crimson gown.

I made myself breathe, made myself be present. Every action had to be perfect tonight. My father would be watching, studying "Valentina's" every move. The thought turned my stomach.

"Girls, give mom some space to finish up in here." Elena's voice from the doorway sent a shard of ice through my veins. I caught her reflection in the mirror staring at me with predatory focus.

"Aunt Elena!" The twins flung themselves at her, giving me a minute to collect my thoughts.

"I hear Adrian's been asking about you," Elena said, her tone casual but her eyes razor-sharp. "He seems. concerned about your recovery."

"Adrian has always been overprotective," I said, delicately painting on Valentina's signature red lipstick. "But I'm fine."

"Are you?" Elena took a step closer to me, her perfume choking. "You seem. different lately."

I didn't have time to answer before Nicolas appeared in the doorway. My heart skipped-but not from fear this time.

"Elena, Adrian's looking for you downstairs." There was no defiance in his tone. When Elena was gone, he stepped closer with an ornate box of jewelry. "For tonight."

The necklace lay bloodred and lovely, limelighted within. Nicolas' fingers touched my neck, closing it for me. "You normally have a lot of problems with that clasp," he whispered.

Instinctively my fingers found the catch, maneuvered it to a perfect seat-a mistake. I saw in his eyes the mirror catch a spark of.

"I must be remembering more than I thought," I stammered, but it was too late. Cracked again.

The drive to my childhood home-now the Constantine estate-was agonizing. Every familiar turn brought back memories: sneaking out as a teenager, coming home drunk from college parties, leaving for the last time before my "suicide."

"You're shaking," Nicolas said, his hand reaching for mine.

"Just nervous about seeing everyone." The lie tasted bitter. "It's been a while since."

"Since the accident," he finished. "Stay close to me tonight."

The mansion loomed ahead, transformed by Adrian's family into something colder, harder. Like everything they touched.

Walking in felt like attending my own funeral. Faces turned, watching, judging. My father stood with Adrian near the grand staircase, champagne paused halfway to his lips as he saw me.

"Valentina," Adrian called out, too loud, too pleased. "You look ravishing."

I felt Nicolas tense beside me. "Adrian," he acknowledged coolly.

"We've missed you at these gatherings," my father said, his eyes searching my face. Looking for his dead daughter in Valentina's features? "How are you feeling?"

"Better every day," I managed, grip tightening on Nicolas's arm. "Though some memories are. still hazy."

"Such a tragedy about poor Isabella," Adrian cut in, his eyes glinting as he watched me closely. "Her suicide sent shockwaves through all of us."

My nails bit into my palm. "Suicide does seem. improbable for someone with so much to live for."

The air snapped with tension. My father's knuckles whitened on his glass.

"Dance with me," Adrian said abruptly, holding out his hand. A test, a trap.

Nicolas's arm tightened around my waist. "My wife just recovered-

"One dance," Adrian insisted. "For old times' sake."

I couldn't refuse without arousing suspicion. His hand felt like ice against my back as we moved across the floor.

"You know what's interesting?" he mused, steering us toward a massive portrait-my portrait. "Isabella loved this song. Used to say it reminded her of better times."

My throat closed. He was watching, always watching.

"How sad," I said, "that we will never learn what might have possessed her with such despair."

 His fingers dug into my upper arm. "Yes. Although there are those who claim she was. fragile towards the end. Paranoid. Making outlandish accusations."

 A waiter glided by with champagne. In the reflective surface of his tray, I saw my father disappear through a side door; Adrian's gaze flicked after him.

 "Excuse me," I whispered, tugging free. "I need some air.

I knew the service corridors by heart and followed them to the hidden passage behind my old study. Voices filtered through the ventilation grate.

"She knows something." My father's voice, harsh with concern. "She's been asking questions about Isabella's death."

"Let her," Adrian replied. "Nicolas is having DNA tests run. Soon we'll have everything we need to—"

A haunting melody sliced through their words-"La Llorona" from my childhood music box. I'd bumped it in the dark.

Footfalls approached from either direction. My heart thundered as my gaze landed on the dumbwaiter. A perilous way out, but better than being discovered here.

I finally made my way to the ballroom through the kitchen, doing my best to even out my breathing. Nicolas homed in on me in a heartbeat. Concern was etched into his features.

"Where did you go?" he asked quietly.

Before I could respond, Elena appeared with a host of fresh questions about my whereabouts. Through the open doors, lightning flashed, illuminating my father's face as he watched me with growing suspicion.

The storm had finally broken. In more ways than one.