Chapter 3 #2
I don’t find myself worried in the slightest. In fact, I’m hoping that I won’t be able to find her for a while and can just wander off on my own.
Before I can truly disappear from the scene, there’s cameras on me, asking me where Rosalie is, and how excited I am for the wedding. How we managed to keep it a secret for so long.
So long…
Someone must have fed them information I don’t know about. A story that we’ve been together for longer than it seems.
“The wedding is going to be an incredibly exciting day,” I tell them. “Stressful as well, for my poor bride. She hasn’t been feeling well, you see.” I find myself struggling not to smirk as I lie to them.
They gasp softly. “What’s going on with Rosalie Fiorelli?” they ask.
“It’s a family matter. Private. I’d appreciate if you kept this off the record,” I tell them with furrowed brow.
“Is this why the wedding is happening so soon after your engagement gala?” someone asks me.
I put a hand up. “I’ve said nothing of the sort. I can’t wait for that day though; I’ll tell you that much.” I smile softly and then turn away from the cameras.
I walk away from them, hearing the vultures murmuring to themselves about the mix of false information I’ve fed them. I wonder if it’ll get back to Rosalie. I can’t imagine she’ll be happy, but… perhaps I’m enjoying playing this game.
If her uncle is going to insist on our marriage, and my brother is going to push me into it, I’m going to attempt to have a little bit of fun with it.
I get stopped by someone else. They rush up to me way too fast, their hands aren’t immediately in view. My instincts kick in.
I’m about to grab their arm and pull them to the side, growl at them not to come up on me like that, when someone else grabs their arm.
Damian.
Damian got over to me faster than I could even process. He grabs the older gentleman’s arm and tugs him backward.
“Watch your step. Do not approach Mr. Dresvanni with your hands concealed,” Damian growls in a low and stern tone.
The man looks flabbergasted. He puts his hands up and looks at the both of us with a gasp.
“My apologies, I meant nothing by it. I simply wish to talk to Alessio before his attention is further grabbed,” the man explains.
“Do you know this man?” Damian asks me. His eyes are hidden but I can tell he’s looking right at me. I look down at him and shake my head.
“No, I do not. Who are you?” I ask the man.
“My apologies,” the man laughs awkwardly. “I’m a friend of your fathers. Rest in peace… Call me Isaiah,” he insists.
I eye him. He does look of the right age to be a friend of my late father, but I’ve never met him before.
“Why has Mr. Dresvanni never met you before?” Damian asks in my place.
A heat spreads from my stomach to my groin in response. The protective and possessive sound of his voice. I shouldn’t feel anything; he’s just doing his job, but alas.
“I live in Prague. We mostly networked long distance,” Isaiah explains with a chuckle. “I apologize for causing a ruckus. Truly, I just wanted to congratulate you on your engagement and introduce myself.”
I nod slowly. “Thank you. Mr. Rossi,” I look over at Damian, “I don’t believe you’re needed.”
Damian takes a slow step back after letting the man’s arm go. Seeing the way his hand flexes makes my cock twitch.
There’s an unmistakable difference in how a handsome man affects me versus a beautiful woman like Rosalie.
If I’d had any doubt about my sexuality, I certainly don’t anymore.
I clear my throat as Damian steps away, but I can’t stop myself from watching his strong and ample behind as he walks away. He sits at a nearby table.
I suppose I could have asked him where Rosalie is…if I truly wanted to.
“You weren’t at my father’s funeral,” I note to Isaiah.
“I wasn’t. A choice I truly regret, but I was in the middle of a…very important series of meeting with an ally,” he says quietly. “You’ll be hearing from them shortly, as they wish to discuss ideas with you as well. Or… I suppose it’ll be Carmine that hears from them, won’t it?”
My jaw tightens. “I’ll hear as well.”
“Of course. I’m sure he tells you all of the happening of your family,” Isaiah smiles, but I get the sense that he’s trying to pull some information out of me that I’m not going to give him.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to find my fiancé,” I tell him with a touch on his shoulder.
He looks disappointed but nods. “Very well. Let’s catch up later.”
As if there’s anything we really need to catch up on.
I step away from him and begin a real search for Rosalie. I’m curious who she is speaking to, what she is doing. If she’s having as much or as little fun as I am. Is she making up lies about me too?
If so, what are they?
I smirk slightly as I think about it. It doesn’t upset me, the idea of her lying about me. It only makes me more motivated to think of more lies to spread about her. Perhaps she could even be pregnant? That would be a reason to get married quickly and fall in line with her feeling unwell lately.
I scoff to myself. Then again, it would require a child eventually come of our union, and the thought of that sends an unpleasant chill down my spine.
“There are you, darling,” I say as I find her talking to a group of young women around her age. I recognize some of them as being around the estate now and again, around town, but I’ve never truly spoken to them much. Perhaps they’ve been at the club.
“Here is your wine.” I hand her the glass. My rum and coke is already almost gone again. I feel a slight buzz taking over, and it makes the evening easier to handle.
I wonder if a third will make it even more pleasant.
“What took you so long?” she asks with a chuckle.
“Oh, I was stopped by a few people,” I insist.
“It’s almost time for your dance! How romantic,” one of the women coos as she nurses a glass of champagne.
“Is dinner not before the dance?” I ask curiously. I had no say in how the event was planned, but if I had, dancing would have come long after dinner.
“Not according to Eivor,” Rosalie says through her teeth as she strains a smile. “He decided our dance would be best suited while the guests are being served.”
I bite my tongue for a moment. “Very well.”
Before too long, Rosalie and I are motioned to the center of the dance floor while the violin music that surrounds us grows both louder and slower in tempo. It’s obvious what’s expected of us, despite having never danced together before.
Rosalie’s hand that rests in mine feels incredibly cold all of the sudden, and I glance over at her to see the strained look of her face. Her smile is even more so forced than before.
Regardless, as we get to the center of the room, I pull her close to me. One hand is on her waist; the other holds her hand on the opposite side after guiding her other hand to my shoulder.
We don’t speak. Not yet anyway.
The music fades for a moment.
“Please join us in watching Mr. Dresvanni and the future Mrs. Dresvanni in a dance to celebrate their engagement!” I swear Rosalie’s hand is squeezing mine so tightly that she might cut off the blood flow to my fingers.
Applause follows, then the music becomes loud once again. Playing a song that will allow me to perfectly lead Rosalie in a simple dance with a pleasant tempo. Not too fast, not too slow.
Something that I know neither of us wants to be doing right now.
Despite this, I take a step back and lead Rosalie to step forward. She does as I guide her to do, and we dance in a two-foot section of the dance floor, side to side, back and forth, our bodies growing closer to each other.
I know how to dance in a more elaborate fashion, but it seems unnecessary for this event and moment.
The quicker it’s over, the better.
I have my gaze set to the side of Rosalie’s head, focusing on her ear rather than her face or expression. I think about my plans for after this. To be alone, with no one bothering me. No one expecting anything of me. Just peace and quiet.
And a cigarette.
Ah, that would be divine.
I take a step to the right, to the left, and forward.
On this forward step though, I feel Rosalie falter.
It’s enough to take me off balance for a brief moment.
I look to her face as I get us back on track before anyone notices.
Her eyes are glistening. Wet and pink around the edges of her long mascara-coated eye lashes.
I feel something move in me, just a bit. Some minor concern for the woman that prompts me to lean in closer to her in a natural manner. I place my head against the side of hers so that we can speak without being overheard or intruded upon.
“Are you quite alright?” I ask her in a hush.
“I’m fine,” she insists. “I just don’t enjoy dancing.”
I can hear her voice waver, and I know she’s lying to me.
“If you’re going to lie to me, at least make it good,” I tell her in return.
She huffs softly. “Why, it’s not like you actually care. Do you?” her question is laced with a verbal venom. Sharp, but not nearly as stinging as she might be hoping for.
“Does it matter?” I ask. “Our audience believes it.” I tilt my cheek against the side of her head, and place my mouth against her hair ever so slightly. An expression of affection to anyone watching closely.
I slide my hand from her hip around to her lower back and draw her in closer.
I feel her breath quiver, and I smirk to myself.
“Maybe even you can,” I rumble out. I know how to seduce a woman, even if I’m not interested in them.
“I hate this,” she whispers to me. “Dancing for all these people. It makes me sick to my stomach…”
I rub my thumb along her back slowly as we dance. “Why?” I ask her. “You’ve made it clear you’re in for the long haul with this. So, why dancing? Why does that get you?”
Rosalie squeezes my hand tighter for a moment. “You wouldn’t understand.”
I can feel her breath grow quicker, and she feels heavier in my arms.
“You’d be surprised,” I reply.