Chapter Five #2
Turning around ready to knock the person out I spit, "Watch where you are going, assh-" but am cut off by the looming figure in front of me.
This man was built by the gods themselves.
Tousled, layered black hair sits atop his head in waves.
Stubble coats his jaw line cleanly and his full lips fit perfectly to his face.
He's gorgeous in a dangerous sort of way. There is something about him that I just can’t place. My eyes flicker around the room
still searching for my target of the night, The Ghost.
"I am so sorry, Miss. I didn't see you there." He speaks in an apologetic tone. I smile trying to retract my previous banter.
"It's not a problem. I am Everly from the Beretta family, and you are?" I politely question.
"Ah my apologies, I am Blake Mikaelson." His smile is friendly. His accent is subtle on the tip of his tongue. Offering a polite glance, I try my best to not appear rude while continuing to search the crowd.
"It's nice to meet you Blake. I have been looking forward to meeting other members of your family. They don’t come very often, do they?" I inquire while looking around.
"Not usually, no. I find these types of events silly if I'm being honest, but this year I have decided to come. Business is a driving reason.” I nod as a courtesy while taking note of the way he speaks. It’s overly formal which reminds me of his family’s history.
He wasn’t born here, therefore English wouldn’t be his first language.
"I see. Well, I look forward to chatting more with you." I offer softly. Just as our conversation settles. The music changes and “I'm yours” by Isabel LaRosa passes the speakers.
"Would you grace me with a dance, Amour?" I eye him curiously, his French origins being evermore apparent. Nodding in approval, he takes my hand leading us to the dance floor. A show of good faith can’t hurt, right?
We pass our families who give us shocked expressions.
Some members even show emotions of true disgust; I can’t blame them though.
We are dancing with the enemy after all.
Turning to face each other, his one hand lands on my waist while the other continues to hold my hand.
My free one finds his neck. Our bodies are pressed dangerously close, leaving me to feel the rhythmic beats of his steady heart beneath the expense fabric of his tailored suit.
We find the rhythm and move effortlessly around the floor.
No direction or cue to which step comes next.
Just two people, caught in time together.
"Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?" He asks in a rhetorically flirtatious tone.
"A few," I respond with a smirk. This earns me one in return before I am dipped back quickly. He pulls me up a moment later.
Suddenly, we are in full swing. We follow each other’s steps, one after the other, never breaking stride.
He catches my leg while spinning us around.
It's as if we were made to do this dance together.
The chemistry is undeniable. Others must feel it too, because soon we are the only ones left on the dance floor.
"Your eyes..they are different colors. I had not noticed until now. Absolutely beautiful." My eyes are a rarity being heterochromatic.
One a rich blue and the other a sharp green. I can’t help but blush in response. The effect this man has on me is impossible to fight.
The music slows and we glide to a halt. As our faces are inches apart, it’s the first time I look into his eyes.
Amber ones look back, reminding me of aged whiskey.
My drink of choice coincidentally. I'm helplessly drawn to his lips and on instinct mine part.
His tongue darts out to wet his own. Thoughtlessly, I mimic his actions while slowly nearing each other when suddenly my father's voice catches our attention.
"And that's how it's done. Two families who are sworn enemies, coming together for a beautiful performance.
Thank you Everly and Blake!" He says with a tone that says he is less than thrilled with what could have just happened.
My attention returns to my dance partner, backing away until just our hands touch.
"Until next time, love." He says with a beautiful smile, leaving me to emit a small gasp. I didn’t think he could get more beautiful but then he goes and smiles? My mouth struggles to form words despite all effort. Flusteredly, I nod before making a quick exit.
Needing to clear my mind, I find a bench next to the small pond that lies within our garden. What the fuck was I doing back there? I almost kissed him. This whole Ghost thing has gotten me stuck in my own head.
"Well, that was intense." Ryon says from behind, causing me to jump slightly.
"I just got caught up in the moment." I retort, as I'm given a pointed look suggesting that he sees right through my bullshit.
"Yeah...but this could actually be a good thing." His words are far too peppy for how I’m feeling at present. All I can manage to do is look at him like he's crazy.
"Hear me out! If you and Blake made a marriage alliance, the American Mafia would be so much stronger!" Oh, now I know he's crazy. Laughing in response, my eyes give an almost mocking expression.
"Not a chance. I don’t marry for alliances and I am not some bargaining chip.
" He nods his head in understanding, knowing I’ve always had these values and they won’t be changing anytime soon.
Just then, he takes my hands and kneels before me.
I freeze in my place as I’m lost in bewilderment . What the fuck is he doing?
"Well, in that case...we have known each other our entire lives. We already love each other so I think it’s only fitting that we take it to the next level.
I'm so nervous, ha-ha. I've had this for a while but couldn't find the right moment for it.
" He pulls a velvet box from his pocket, presenting with his loose hand.
He slowly opens the box and a candy ring is revealed, cherry flavored I believe.
"Everly Violet Beretta...will you...sorry... will you be my bestest best friend?" Before he can register my movement, he's in the pond flailing like a dying fish.
"What the fuck, Ev? I had this whole thing planned out and this is how you act?" He calls from the waist deep water, arms hitting the water in large splashes. I burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.
I walk off laughing breathlessly until I am back in the ballroom.
The party has died down and as guests leave I can’t help but look around for not one but two men this evening.
Blake, the heir to the French Mafia. There was something there.
It felt like electricity on my skin when we touched.
Charged and hopeful. Then there is The Ghost, a man I am determined to wipe off the face of this earth.
Finding my family nearby, I excuse myself for the night.
Once near my room, I notice the door is ajar. I push the door open carefully, ensuring it makes no sound while doing so. The darkness within is what I first take notice of. Movement in the corner causes me to pull my gun and aim it at the frozen figure.
"Calm down, Little Siren. I just wanted to see what your room looks like. I am embarrassed to be caught in the act.” His rich accent pulls my attention further while my eyes finally adjust to the lack of light.
I tilt my head as I realize he’s speaking in French, watching as the details of his mask dance under the moonlight.
Cocking my gun, I direct it to the middle of his forehead.
"I don't care what you want. You had the audacity to come, not show your face, and then sneak into my room,” Annoyance evident in my tone.
He tsks at me while waving a finger. "Ah, ah, ah. No violence remember. Those are your family's rules and the night is not over yet."
I growl in frustration. I may be angry, but I am not dishonorable. "What do you want then?" I huff while stowing away my weapon.
He chuckles in response, "I have a few things in mind, but besides those...I just came to say you look delicious tonight."
He stalks towards me until we are nose to nose. It's so dark but even now I could remember every painful detail of his mask without ever having to see it again.
"I am tired. I am not in the mood to go back and forth with you right now. Either try to kill me or go.” I say in a forceful tone. My stomach is doing weird things I don’t like. The idea of him leaving is almost frustrating. Call it morbid curiosity at best.
He pushes a piece of hair behind my ear. Suddenly, my hands are held together by one hand while his other trails over my body.
I jump at the sight of him pulling up his mask which elicits a small smirk. I hardly have time to focus on the details before he begins to lean in. Our lips brush ever so slightly and I shudder at the contact.
"Ghost, Don't," I say in a harsh tone, warning him.
He smirks and crashes his lips into mine.
I expected him to be aggressive, though he's anything but.
His lips are soft against mine, almost like he's afraid to hurt me. I fight the sensation brewing in my stomach, one that begs me to let go and enjoy this. To say he’s a bad kisser would be a lie.
He pushes his tongue out and slides it across mine, before taking my bottom lip between his teeth.
As if on instinct, I moan in response causing him to freeze.
As quickly as he stops kissing me, he starts again.
His hand slowly slides up my body until it wraps around my throat.
"Fuck it," is all I manage to say before kissing him back harshly. I force myself against his hands that work as binds, attempting to keep me in place.
He finally lets go of the restraints, allowing me to place them on either side of his face. Just as I am about to grab his mask, he takes my hands back and waves a finger in my face.
"Until next time." He says before I am left panting in the dark and he is nowhere to be seen. A Ghost in the night.