Sugar Sweet Sin

The Fontaines

The mansion of Charles and Giovanna Fontaine is insane.

It's huge, of course. And gorgeous. And surrounded by grounds that make it look like we're somewhere in Tuscany. If I thought Dante's house was intimidating, it's nothing compared to this.

Though I'm sure the fact that I'm about to meet his parents isn't helping my nerves.

I'm a bundle of anxiety as Dante leads me through the front door. His arm is hooked through mine, his fingers offering a reassuring touch on my inner wrist.

"You look gorgeous," he murmurs to me as he leads me across the foyer and into the formal living room. "They're going to love you."

The rest of his family is already here, and my breath stops as I take them in. At least one of the advantages of dating a Fontaine is that I already know the names of many of the people here in this room—there won't be any awkward lapses of memory later. Still, meeting everyone at once is more than a little intimidating. It's not just the fact that they're Dante's family, or even that they're famous—every single person here has a presence, that undefinable trait that allows them to capture and keep the focus of all of your senses. Dante has always had that sort of sway over me, but I don't think it's a coincidence that this entire family has ruled Hollywood and the tabloids for so long. If there's such a thing as star power, everyone in this room has it.

We're hardly through the door when we're approached by the woman I know to be Giovanna Agosti Fontaine, Dante's mother.

"Darling," she says, hugging him. Then she turns to me.

"This is Ashlyn," Dante tells her. To me, he says, "Ash, this is my mother, Giovanna."

"Pleased to meet you," I say, thankful I have a voice. Dante's mother is stunningly beautiful—but how couldn't she be, to produce a son like Dante? Her long hair flows down over her shoulders, her famous gold locks threaded with streaks of silver. Her eyes are large and brown, set in a face that's wide and expressive while still capturing a very classic sort of beauty. She's the sort of woman who will look elegant until the day she dies.

"Lovely to meet you," she says, ignoring my outstretched hand and pulling me in for a hug. "We don't deal with those sorts of formalities in this family, my dear." She presses a quick kiss to each of my cheeks before releasing me. I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to return the kisses or not, but fortunately, Dante's father is just behind her.

"Ashlyn, this is Charles, my father," Dante says.

Charles is as intimidating as Giovanna is elegant. He's tall and broad-shouldered with the same coloring as his oldest son—though like his wife, he's started to wear the effects of age with pride. He greets me warmly—but thankfully without the cheek kisses. I'm still not sure how to handle those.

After that, we make a tour of the room. All of Dante's brothers and a few of his cousins are here, and many of them brought dates. He brings me first to Raphael, his second-youngest brother, who frankly looks a little underdressed compared to the rest of his family. But there's no denying he looks good in those dark jeans and leather jacket—if you go for that shaved-head, bad boy kind of look. Still, I can see the family resemblance, and with his rich, deep voice—deeper even than Dante's—I have no doubt he attracts his fair share of women. He's with a pretty, dark-haired woman I don't recognize, and he introduces her as a model he met on one of his recent shoots. Still, I don't miss the way his eyes skim over my body as Dante introduces us, and I know without a doubt that this one is trouble.

Orlando is next. He's Dante's youngest brother, probably no more than twenty-four or twenty-five, and he seems to have inherited his mother's coloring. His dirty-blond hair is a mop of curls, and though there's something still a little boyish about his smile, the gleam in his golden-brown eyes leaves me no doubt he's going to be a heartbreaker in a few years—if he isn't already. But I also notice a hint of something in his expression—a shadow, perhaps, or a hint of something darker—and I find myself wondering more about this youngest member of the family. Of all of the Fontaines, he seems to find his way into the gossip pages the least often, but whether that's by luck or intention, I couldn't say. From what I've heard, he's been following in his father's footsteps and dabbling a bit in directing, but I couldn't tell you what's become of any of those projects. I've spent the last few years trying to avoid getting any news about the Fontaines—but if I'm going to stick around, then I guess I need to brush up again.