28. Chapter Damian
I can’t take my eyes off of her. I’m pretty sure I look like a creep right now, but I couldn’t care fucking less. Here I thought the possibility of her looking more beautiful was impossible, but yet, here we are.
“You’re staring,” she whispers with a giggle.
“You really do look beautiful.”
“Yes,” she rolls her eyes playfully, “I gathered that from the other six times you’ve told me during this ten minute car ride.”
“What can I say? I don’t want you to forget,” I say with a playful wink.
She places her head on my shoulder. “ Right.”
I almost said fuck it when she came out, because all I wanted to do was stay home so I could tear that fucking dress off and worship her the way she deserves.
My cock stiffens at the thought of me between her legs, exploring every inch of her body, and making her come until we’re both delirious and exhausted.
God, this is fucking killing me.
As we get out of the car, the entrance is bustling with activity. Magazine paparazzi are all around since this is one of the most prestigious auctions in the world. All well-known artists, gallery owners, and even celebrities attend every year.
Aria’s looking around, taking it all in. She stops dead in her tracks and grabs my arm as she keeps looking around nervously, which is understandable, since it’s her first time coming here. I place my hand around her waist and press my fingers reassuringly. She looks at me and takes a deep breath with a nod as we both start walking to the entrance.
“Wait, is that Damian Romano?” a woman whispers.
“Seems so. Who is he with?” another woman whispers back.
I roll my eyes as we keep walking to the carpet to get our photo taken. For business owners like me, it’s important we come here to make connections, but also, the auction lineup they have is usually quite impressive, and I always make it a point to leave with a piece or two. Most people treat this like a party, where they come to drink and gossip as they desperately try to get into the elite's inner circles. It’s sickening, really.
Approaching the carpet, she tries to wiggle herself out of my touch, whispering, “I’ll be inside.”
I grip her waist. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“What do you mean? They can’t take pictures of us. That won’t be good for your reputation,” she replies back with a confused frown etched on her face.
I raise an eyebrow. “My reputation, huh?” I laugh, kissing the top of her head and whispering, “ Tesoro , I couldn’t give zero fucks about my reputation. Now smile.”
She shakes her head, her shoulders shaking with laughter as she places her arm on my back and looks at the cameras with a bright smile.
That damn smile. I’d give anything to see that plastered on her face always.
While everyone is trying to get my attention, as paparazzi are shouting at me to look their way, all I can look at is her. With her bright smile and natural charisma, her cheeks blush from the compliments they’re shouting at her.
So fucking beautiful.
I don’t care what the rest of the world is doing, because I just want to stay here forever in this exact moment. Those big bright hazel eyes find mine, and her eyes sparkle with so much happiness, it makes my chest tight with emotion. I simply grin back at her like an idiot .
Once they finish taking our pictures, Fathom Vanity, the magazine company owned by Fathom Group who is in charge of the auction, is having one of their reporters interview some people, and while I typically steer away from that side of things, the reporter is running, trying to catch up with us. I can’t deny it makes me feel a little bad, so I give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Mr. Romano! I’m Rachel Zae, reporter for Fathom Vanity magazine. Can I have a moment of your time?” the woman asks, panting.
I nod curtly, glancing at my watch. “Only have a few minutes, so make them count.”
“I hear you’ve almost completed your gallery collection. Is that why you’re here tonight? Anything you can tell us on how that endeavor is going?”
“Certainly.” I nod curtly. “Without giving much away, all I can say is that I’m really looking forward to re-opening The Romano Gallery and showing you what we’ve been working with,” I look at Aria. “I had the wonderful opportunity to hire this beautiful woman, Aria Petrov, one of the top curators in the industry. She’s really been taking over the creative control of the gallery, and has been doing some wonderful work.”
Aria smiles shyly and nods without saying anything.
Rachel, the reporter, opens her eyes wide. “Wow. That’s… surprising. What do you have to say to the people that usually find working with you extremely difficult? What made you change your mind and let,” she looks at Aria from head to toe, “her take creative control?”
I let out a humorless laugh. The look she gave Aria doesn’t escape me, and she’s about to be fucking sorry for it. “She has a name. It’s Aria Petrov, by the way, in case you already forgot. And I have nothing to say to that. She’s extremely good at what she does.” I grab Aria’s hand and interlace our fingers as I look at her with a warm smile. “And I trust her.” I look back at the reporter and nod curtly. “No more comments. Thank you.”
Aria leans toward me. “Thank you for that.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t do it just for you. I truly believe you’re good at what you do, Darling. Please don’t let people think otherwise.”
And that’s the truth. I won’t allow people to doubt her ability, and I will make sure that’s known. My promise to her was real, too. I’m here for her, always. I will defend her with tooth and nail. This doesn’t change the fact that I hired her because I knew what she could bring to the table was nothing short of amazing.
She pats my chest jokingly with a playful wink. “Come on, Romano. Give me more credit than that. I know I’m good.”
“Good. You best remember that, always.”
The auction is being held on the second floor of Fathom Group's two-story gallery, while the first floor is where people socialize. I typically come alone, because the last thing I want to give people is ammo to talk about my personal life and start their gossip. That's all people love to do in this industry, and it bores me. I’m nothing but glad that she’s here with me though. She’s the calm in my storm, and the serenity she brings me is something I’ve grown to love.
“Wow, this place is nice ,” she whispers.
“That’s Fathom Group for you.”
The place is nothing short of extravagant. With high-ceiling walls, and a spiral staircase in the middle that takes you to the second floor. Typically, there’s nothing but art all around, but today, there are high tables scattered with candles causing a low light setting, giving it a sense of elegance.
As we’re walking, a few people stop me to introduce themselves, and while they’re talking nonstop, Aria is nodding and smiling along, while I have nothing but a scowl on my face. I have no interest in these people and what they have to say. All I want is to be left alone with Aria, and go to our little bubble where all I see and listen to is her.
She hits me softly with her elbow. “Would it kill you to be nice?” she whispers.
I roll my eyes. “This is how I am during these activities. They bore me.”
She chuckles, looking at me knowingly. “God, you’re such a snob. ”
I shrug. It’s not that I’m a snob. It’s that I know these people see me as less by the simple fact that I don’t come from old money. I worked my ass off to get to where I am, and with this being such a small community, they always hate the outsiders. It’s just a bunch of hypocrites who want to play nice with me when they see me once or twice a year. I’d rather not entertain them.
“Oh my God, is that Henry Anderson?” Aria whispers to me excitedly.
“How do you even know who Henry Anderson is?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Sophia’s a hockey fan, and obsessed with that man. God, she would die if she knew he was here. He’s definitely more handsome in person.”
A tinge of jealousy floods through me at her comment, but that’s Henry Anderson for you. At the ripe age of eighteen, he was drafted by the NHL, making him one of the youngest players to join the roster. He was picked up by the Chicago Thunders, where the Canadian has been playing ever since. His career has been impressive, and he’s only 28 years old. But the guy has the reputation of a playboy, with a different woman every night. With the constant travel and the ridiculous amount of money he makes, it’s not surprising.
As I’m about to reply to her comment, Henry walks our way as he extends his hand to me .
“Hey, man. Long time no see,” he says as we shake hands and pat each other in the back.
I nod. “Yeah, man. I haven’t had time to go to any games.”
“Because you’re a workaholic. It wouldn’t kill you to go out once in a while. Matter of fact, we should hang out once we go back to—” He stops mid sentence, his eyes finding Aria’s.
I already don’t like where this is going.
“Well, who do we have here?” he asks with a flirtatious smile. “Henry Anderson, nice to meet you, beautiful.” He winks, extending his hand to Aria.
While Aria reaches out, I place my hand on her waist and grip a little too possessively.
“Aria Petrov. So nice to meet you. My best friend is a huge fan of yours,” she replies with a smile.
Henry looks at my hand placement and smirks knowingly. He may be a playboy, but his Canadian roots make him too respectful. He knows she’s off limits. That doesn’t mean the man doesn’t like to push people’s buttons, though.
He smiles. “Well, if she’s as beautiful as you, I definitely need an introduction.”
“Aria, if you love Sophia, please don’t do that,” I deadpan.
She snorts with laughter .
Henry takes a step back, acting offended. “Oh, come on, Damian. You hurt me. I’m a gentleman,” he remarks jokingly.
“Sorry, Anderson, but I love her too much. I could never do that to her,” she says with a playful wink.
Aria excuses herself to go to the restroom as Anderson and I go to the open bar, grab a few drinks, and keep talking about his contract with the Thunders, my latest business adventure, and just overall catching up. We used to hang out a lot, but our schedules are so hectic, I see him maybe once a year in events like these. Taking a glance at my watch, I notice Aria hasn’t come back and it’s been a good fifteen minutes since she left. Shaking Anderson’s hand and saying goodbye, I start looking around for her, dread settling in the pit of my stomach.