Chapter 3 #3
The song is ending, but her body is shivering. I pull back from her, and she clings to me for just a moment before pulling back as well. Her face is damp, and she’s breathing quickly still.
I barely hear us being applauded once more as I link my arm with hers.
“Come on,” I tell her.
“I’m f-fine,” she insists, but her lips are quivering.
I tug her along at a pace just fast enough to not be too suspicious. We avoid speaking to anyone on the way. Dinner is being served after all, so everyone is fairly preoccupied.
“Where are we going?” Rosalie asks me pointedly, her voice cracking with emotion. “I said I-I’m fine I—” her words become incoherent and her breath so fast that her face starts reddening.
Into the restroom we go. There’s a woman washing her hands and she looks at us in surprise.
“Get out,” I demand in equal measures of charm and violence.
The woman grabs a hand towel from nearby and quickly leaves the room with it while drying her hands.
The second we’re alone, I pull over a footstool that’s sitting nearby and guide Rosalie down to sit on it.
“What a-are you doing?” she asks me, tears streaming down her face.
“You need to sit,” I insist.
She finally does as she’s told and sits down on the small stool with her dress billowing out all around her. Just as I’m about to say something else, the bathroom door swings open wildly.
“Can we get some pri—” I look over and stop mid-sentence.
It’s Damian.
“What’s going on?” he asks, taking his sunglasses off and tucking them into his breast pocket.
“Nothing you’re needed for,” Rosalie sneers between soft hiccups.
Damian locks eyes with me, and I look back without hesitation. Something about the concern in his expression is incredibly sexy. The way he burst in here without a second thought.
I can’t help but wonder, was it really for Rosalie’s sake?
“She’s having a panic attack,” I explain simply.
“I-I’m not,” Rosalie huffs.
Damian sighs and steps over to us.
“Take a deep breath,” he says quietly.
His voice is deep and compels even me to take a slow breath through my nose.
I realize that I’d been panicking a bit myself.
“I know how to breath!” Rosalie yanks her arm away from me. I stand up, having been crouching at her side.
“Fine. If you don’t need my help,” I snap back at her.
“Both of you need to calm down. There are people waiting for you at dinner,” Damian reminds us.
I adjust my suit and take another deep breath. “Of course.”
Rosalie is taking slow breaths, despite her instance of not needing to. I take a step over and grab one of the soft hand towels from the counter by the sink. I move over to Rosalie and hand it to her.
“Dab gently or your makeup will smear. It hasn’t run yet,” I say quietly.
She looks up at me with a confused look on her face.
“What?” I ask her.
She blinks and shakes her head. “Nothing. Just…give me a minute alone, will you?”
My jaw sets and I nod. I move past Damian and out of the restroom. There’s a small line forming.
“The bride-to-be needs a moment,” I tell them in a low tone. I don’t care if they think something bad has happened, that perhaps we’ve had a fight. It won’t change the fact that we have to get married.
Nothing will change that.
After dinner, and another hour of mingling with people I don’t give a damn about, it’s finally time to go home. I think.
At least, until Rosalie makes me aware of an after-party event, where a select few will be joining us for drinks well into the night at the Fiorelli estate.
“Don’t you even think about skipping out on it,” Rosalie warns me. “After what happened with the dance, we need to make a good impression.”
“I’ve made nothing but a perfect impression, thank you very much.” I glare at her as we sit in the car on the drive over. Damian sits in the driver’s seat, having become not only Rosalie’s bodyguard, but chauffeur, apparently.
“You think that, but you don’t know the look on your face,” she says with a sigh.
“Why is it so important to you that people believe we’re a happy couple anyway?
It doesn’t matter, we have to get married either way,” I remind her.
Even though just a couple hours before, I had been enjoying the game we were playing.
I find myself far too sober to enjoy it now.
Now, I’m tired, and I’ve been without a cigarette for way too long.
I light one up while we are in the car, and roll the window down.
“Do you have to do that disgusting habit in here?” Rosalie asks me while fanning away nonexistent smoke from her face.
“If you want me to be at all pleasant when we get out of this car, yes,” I say as I take a drag and blow the smoke out of the crack of the window. That first pull into my lungs feels remarkable. I close my eyes and savor the next one even more.
I hear a very light chuckle from the front of the car, and the sound makes goosebumps rise on my skin. Not from the cold either.
I open my eyes to look at the back of Damian’s head, and then at the rearview mirror, where I meet his cool eyes. Not covered by sunglasses. They look at me for just a split second before moving back to the road.
I wonder if Damian smokes on his off time.
I can imagine offering him one. Watching his mouth surround the butt of the cigarette, and the smoke billow out from his lips into the air.
Maybe I’m not quite as sober as I think I am.
When the car stops in front of the estate I’m going to have to get used to for now, I toss the end of the cigarette out of the window into the icy slush under the car and adjust my suit jacket. I even straighten my tie and brush a lock of my hair back into place.
“You’re so vain,” Rosalie says with a smirk.
“Are you teasing me?” I ask her with narrowed eyes. “That’s a dangerous game.”
“This whole thing is a dangerous game, Alessio,” she reminds me. “Now, behave yourself, will you?”
Damian gets out and opens the car door so that she can get out. I expect to open my own door, but the next second he’s on my side, opening it for me.
I look up at him curiously before I slide out.
“Thank you,” I mumble.
Damian only nods at me and then turns to follow Rosalie inside. We don’t walk together. I walk behind them as someone else comes and takes the car into the garage.
I watch the two of them as they walk, but my eyes land more so on Damian’s backside. I tilt my head to the side slightly. Then, I remember that there might be camera’s around.
So, I keep looking until we get to the door. Rosalie reaches for me, and I take her hand.
The game begins once again. Much to my displeasure.
There’re only a dozen people inside, at least. It’s just enough to hold our attention without taking up all of our time. There’s no one taking photographs either. I take a deep breath, grateful that I won’t be posing for more pictures tonight.
I look around, expecting Carmine and Soren to at least be here, but they aren’t. Fuckers. Getting out of things while I have to suffer.
I don’t blame them really. They genuinely care for each other, and they get to be free. At least, more so than I do.
“Alessio, come have a drink with me,” Eivor insists.
I look to Rosalie who nods. “I’ll be changing into something more comfortable, go ahead.”
As if I needed her permission. I was only looking to her to see what she planned on doing.
Eivor is the last person I want to have a drink with, but alcohol is alcohol, so while Rosalie heads upstairs, I head to the small bar in the parlor room with the older man who rubs me wrong in ever sense of the word.
“Scotch, whiskey, bourbon?” he asks me.
“If I could have all three, I would,” I reply grimly.
Eivor either doesn’t understand how serious I am or he doesn’t care because he laughs and grabs the bottle of bourbon, pouring us both a triple.
“You look like you can hold your liquor,” he comments.
I take a heavy drink while not breaking eye contact with him. He takes one as well, but looks to the side behind my shoulder.
“What is this about?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” He raises a brow.
I narrow my eyes, take another drink, and feel the burn down my throat. My glass is already almost done. “Asking for a drink with me. I know that I’m only here because you need an in for our family,” I tell him matter-of-factly.
Eivor’s face falls. “You’re to marry my niece. Who I raised like a daughter. I’d like to get to know you better,” he says in a low and displeased tone. “If you can’t behave properly, perhaps you shouldn’t be drinking.”
I scoff and down the rest of my drink right now and here. I lick my lips and grab the bottle of scotch, pouring myself another heavy glass before I set it down with a clunk.
“I can handle my liquor, remember?” I say with a chuckle and then turn away from him.
I feel the buzz already setting in, but it’s not enough. I need more to get myself through this night. So, I drink half of my new glass in one gulp.
It’s not going to be my last one.
Not a chance.