Chapter 30 · Anniversary

"Smile for one, Mr. Tan." A man I'd never met had my wrist in one hand and his phone in the other, screen already lit, thumb hovering. "One year married to a Falcone. That's worth a caption, don't you think?"

I yanked back. He didn't let go.

"Let go of him." That wasn't me.

The man's grip loosened before Nico even finished the sentence. That's the thing about a room full of Falcone money — nobody needs to be told twice who signs the checks.

"Just taking a photo, Mr. Falcone. Anniversary party. People want to see the husband."

"People can want things." Nico stepped between us like a door closing. "Delete it."

The guy deleted it. I watched his thumb do it, watched Nico watch him do it, and I still felt the fingerprints on my wrist like a bruise starting.

"That's the third one tonight," I said, low, once the guy was gone into the crowd of black suits and champagne. "Third person with a phone out. You said no photos. You said you'd handle it."

"I'm handling it.