Chapter 48🌜Good Boy
William's POV
"Good evening, Mr. Oberoi-Maxwell." The man with a crisp looking bowtie says. He has the handle of the cart in his hands and a charming smile on his face. "May I come in to set up your dinner?"
"Yeah..." I push my glasses up on my nose. Staring at him with every ounce of I have my shit together confidence that I could muster.
He rolls the trolley inside our room, "Where would you prefer to dine tonight? On the terrace overlooking the sea, or right here by the couch?" I shut the door behind him with a soft duck.
"You can just leave it here in the living room. And please keep it quiet; my husband is resting." The man bows his head slightly and starts arranging the dishes. Every movement is so subtle as if it isn't even happening, yet smooth like it is-but under his control.
I awkwardly sit my ass down on the couch. Fidgeting with the TV remote in my hand, I wait for this tall man with a soft Italian accent to finish his job.
It doesn't take him much, though it feels like hours. "You can just dial the In-Room Dining button whenever you are finished so the cart can be cleared." He instructs me before bowing his head again. I catch the initial half of his name as he turns around to leave me hanging frozen there.
Rom-
Illusion. It's a fucking Illusion.
Now I have started seeing things too...Wow.
Just wow.
It's either that, or it's the worst possible coincidence in the world.
"Who was it?" I jump at the heavy voice behind me.
It's him. Aiming me as the target of the gun in his hands.
"What are you even doing here? You are supposed to be on the bed and not here scaring me this way!" I growl. A growl wasted in front of this elephant. "And now will you put that thing down?"
His intrigued stare doesn't waver, in fact it becomes more intense every second. "Yeah-yeah. Now answer the question, William." He strides closer to me and at this point I notice-
He isn't wearing a shirt. "Eyes up here, caro." He lowers the gun in his hand.
There's not a single sign of weakness, fatigue or just-illness on his face. Just a cocky smirk that I want to punch the fuck off his face. "Now will you say something with your tongue or do you want to continue staring at me?" He slips his hand inside his pocket, effortlessly looking down on me.
"I...uh..." Fuck.
That's fucking embarassing.
"You what, William?" He walks even closer, now just a foot apart. "Tell me. I'm waiting."
His eagle-like stare is directed straight on me, pinning me down under him without using any physical strength. Just his posture and relentless eyes are enough. "H-He was...urm..." I look down. There my eyes fall on his torso and here I fall on the couch.
"Yeah, who was he?" One of his hands is still clutching the gun. Not close enough to the revolver but still.
It won't take much.
"Fuck off, Zane." I turn my head away. I cannot look at him in this state of ours.
"Look at me, William." The controlled authority in his voice is what makes me do so. And when I do, his mouth softens, losing its hard line to a proud mirth. "Good boy. Now you will answer me without deflecting it. Am I clear?"
I bob my head twice, trying to cool down my heating up face. Good boy? Seriously??
I'm not a good boy.
...am I?
"Crystal clear." I dig my nails deep inside my forearm with a stretched inhale of breath. "It was just the room service guy. Here for the chicken soup I ordered for you." I point my finger to the cart, but he doesn't look that way as if he already knows what I'm talking about.
"Okay, so it was for me?" Wait, is he actually more surprised about that?
I release a breath I didn't know I was holding when he goes behind me and picks up a bottle of fancy Scotch. "Yup."
"Mhm..." He doesn't bother with the corkscrew.
Instead, he bites down hard on the stubborn cork, tasting the bitter tang of the aged wood and dry leather capsule while maintaining deadly eye contact with me.
With a sharp, tactical twist of his wrist, the cork breaks free with a loud, wet pop.
He spits it out in his hand and begins drinking directly from the bottle.
The sound rumbles as he gulps the content of the bottle down with a painfully slow pace.
A tiny drop spills out of his lips, trailing the hardness of his chiseled jaw, then diving onto the slope of the bulb of his neck.
Zig-zagging down his torso, until it disappears somewhere inside the shallow pit of his navel.
He puts down the bottle with a thud. Wiping his lower lip with his thumb, he stays hooked on me. "Hello, are you still here?"
"Huh?"
"Lost. I said you are lost."
"No, I am not." Suddenly, my mouth feels like I am lost somewhere in the Sahara. Well, my vision can accompany that feeling too. "Anyway, drink that soup, and put on a shirt."
"Why am I not wearing one in the first place?" He looks down at himself and then at me. I gasp-internally-and then stand up to go anywhere but here.
"How would I know? Maybe you slept that way or something...? Anyway, I got stuff to do, so I am going on a walk. Bye!" Damn, second time in just one day. I'm setting new records everyday.
Fuck.
??
A heavy hand bangs against the fine wood, demanding urgent attention as if an Alien Invasion has begun and we own the only getaway UFO.
Truly a pleasant way to say 'Good Morning', right, God ji?
"Tathastu putra." I slap myself real hard when I hear the cosmic tone.
I gotta wake up. Now. Otherwise-
Wait... is it a dream?
"Hello? Is anyone even here in this shithole?" The person on the opposite side hammers the door even harder, accompanied with a mighty kick.
Well now it isn't.
"Who is it?" My arm strangles the pillow beside me as I lean in.
"There's only one person who can be a fucker like that and it's-"
"Have you died or something, fra?! Open the door!" Zane's muffled explanation gets violated by another round of banging.
"Enzo? What is he doing here this early?" My groan disappears into the cotton below me.
"How would I know?" He doesn't make a move to sit up, so I address the elephant outside the room.
"Then at least go open the door, damn it!" I scrunch my eyes close to make up for the open curtains.
"Why don't you go? Seeing I'm older than you and stuff?
" He sounds equally as pissed as me-okay not as much as me, that's physically impossible for anyone else-but what's shocking is, he sounds relaxed.
Not his usual 'I am the alpha lion who needs to guard the forest, twenty four by seven,' kinda guarded, but the 'I woke up from the best sleep of my life,' kinda relaxed.
"That's irrelevant. I'm sleepy."
"I'm ill."
"My brown ass. You sound healthy enough to me." I yawn against my hand, "You are going. End of discussion. And also... shut those motherfucking curtains off too."
"Bossy."
"Whatever."
"On the count of three, this door will be lying far away from its hinges. One..."
"Go. What are you waiting for?" I take a peek at his lying form with one eye.
"I will, but for that you need to unhand my biceps, though." The glee in his tone is unmistakable.
"My hand?" I finally open both of them, and look at the culprit of a hand digging my nails into his flesh with narrowed eyes. "Even after the pillow wall??" I swiftly remove it from the crime scene.
"Apparently." Zane lets out a small chuckle, his smirk widening underneath. Standing up to finally unlock the door. "Buongiorno anche a te, fratellino."
"Damn, bro... I have been banging outside for eternity!" Enzo doesn't share Zane's amusement and rushes inside, straight to the bedroom. When his eyes fall on me sitting on the bed, he says, "Holy moly...were you guys doing the deed?" He places finger inverted commas around 'the deed'.
"No we were not!" I jump up from my slagged position to sit properly.
"Yes we were, you cockblocker!" Zane swats his back down with a heavy hand.
"Ouch! I get it, you were making a baby...but that doesn't mean you gotta hurt this little soul, fra." He rubs his back, testing all of his upper body flexibility to reach the point just above his upper back.
"We weren't 'making a baby'!" I shiver while saying those words.
That's not even possible!
"And you aren't a 'little soul'" Zane continues, "In fact, you are the big ass soul which can use some smacking on his head." True to his words, he drops a tight slap on his nape.
"Fraaaah!"
"Yeahhh!"
I cannot believe these two are in their twenties, so all I can do is move my eyes from one to the other.
"Okay...that's...well that's enough of your brotherly ritual.
Now, Enzo, would you mind telling why you were banging on our door?
Like is there an emergency?" With my last words I realise how dumb I was being by not taking the situation seriously.
"This kind of lazy behaviour is unacceptable." The similar voice in my head says. "Your hand. Now."
Pain.
A lot of pain.
"It...it burns...da-" The voice squeaks in my memory. Everything is gray currently. A giant man with a ruler in his hand and someone hiding in his shadow.
"It's intended too." Laughter. His laugh had boomed inside the skyscraping walls of the room. Never had he ever had felt that tiny.
"...and that's why we would need the appropriate costumes. Any questions, yeah, William?"
"Huh?" I blink. Looking at both of them. It's not the office. He's not here.
I rub my sweaty palm on my thighs underneath the duvet. It still twitches as if everything just happened yesterday only.
Y-You are okay, William.
You are.
He's not here.
"Are you okay, William? Do you need anything?" Zane queries. His eyebrows curving up with concern. With tense eyes, he eagerly waits for my response. Even Enzo looks worried.
Fuck.
"Yeah...I am okay." I soothe the tired inner corners of my eyes. "Just some morning brain fog. What were you guys talking about?"
"Morning brain fog? Yeah I know that one! You need some caffeine. Black coffee, energy drinks-you pick." Enzo pounces on the corner of the bed, making himself comfortable with one of his legs crossed above and one hanging down.
"Neither. I would get some myself, but first tell me what I missed."
"Oh? Okay. Some other time, I guess. Well I was just rambling about tonight's party-Gala.
" He corrects himself under Zane's eyes.
"As mom and dad were busy seeing this whole Volcano thingy, mom came up to me and asked me, 'Enzo, can you please plan this year's Gala?
There's no one else I can trust with this responsibility.
' So like the selfless guy I am, I agreed. "
"None of that happened." Zane mouths behind him.
As if expecting it, Enzo turns his way. "Do you have an objection, Zanuccio?" Crossing his arms, he mutters.
"Nope." My mouth breaks into a little chuckle on their ribbing.
"Anywayy... So where was I? Yeah, so now, as I am in charge, I decided the theme of the New Year Gala and your reception.
It's called, 'The Cosmic Court of Sin.' Sick, right?
I know. So basically, you can wear anything mythical, fantasy world related-but whatever it is, it gotta be hot.
Even the tagline of our invitation card says, 'If you got it, flaunt it. '"
"Oh my god, Enzo... who approved of this orgy-slash-gala?" Zane covers his gasp with his hand.
"Be chill, bruh. I'm the youngest Belladonna. I don't take approvals, I give them." He waves a hand through his hair.
"Be as overconfident as you want, but dad's gonna bury you alive, lil bro."
"Nope. He doesn't care. Plus, dressing attractively isn't mandatory. You can choose to wear your boring ass suits, if you like. Not you both, though." He glowers at us both. "The rest can be as shitty as they want. In any scenario, no one can blame me."
"You are daydreaming."
"I am not."
"It's not that simple."
"It literally is. Now stop wasting my time. Both of you would have your spicy costumes by 3:30. The stylists and all will be there too, so make sure you are ready by 8."
"Huh?" We both question in unison. Not able to catch up to whatever he just said.
"Oh my god, grow up. It's your reception party and you are acting like some spoonfed toddlers." He stands up, already leaving, "Figure it out and be on time."
A/N??
Yayyy! You aren't ready...cus the Gala would move the plot in a way you aren't expecting.
Keep guessing;)
Also... Good boy ???????
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