Chapter 27 Alina
Chapter twenty-seven
Alina
Soul mates.
The term echoes in my mind as I stare into Mauro’s eyes, drumming with nerves, and something deeper… Something I’ve been trying and failing to suppress.
The realization strikes me like a bolt of lightning in the dark I can’t ignore.
I’m in love with my husband.
And yes, I’ve quietly loved this man my whole life from afar.
Never allowing myself the privilege of getting swept away in a fantasy where we could be together.
But this is different.
Because there’s a contrast between loving someone and being in love with someone.
I can feel it in my heart.
In my bones.
In my damn soul.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the part of tonight’s evening that you’ve all been waiting for,” the MC’s voice drifts over me, pulling me back. I blink, lowering my gaze, struggling to steady my racing thoughts.
I can’t be in love with him. Not when there’s an end date quickly approaching.
The lights dim across the room, bathing the space in a soft glow as the auction begins.
“I saw a rare Birkin bag I absolutely need!” Madeleine announces, her excitement bubbling over.
Item after item comes and goes; nothing of interest to me is shown. Not like I could afford it anyway.
“And for our next item being auctioned, we have a rare first edition of One Night Between Us by Emily Whist…”
I can’t help it. An audible gasp escapes between my lips as I glance at the book resting on a satin pillow in what is probably bulletproof glass.
“…a better copy has never been seen. And for the right price, this item can become a part of your home library.”
“Do you know this book?” Scarlett asks quietly, leaning closer to me.
I swallow hard, forcing the lump in my throat down, and simply nod.
I can’t tell her the story without breaking apart.
How it was my mother’s favorite, how I’ve spent years searching for a copy, knowing only a few were ever printed, and none have surfaced in decades.
My gaze drifts back to the book as tears cloud my vision.
I brush a thumb beneath my eyes and blink rapidly, desperate to keep my composure.
Maybe I can afford it. I could put it on my credit card and—
“The bidding will start at fifty thousand dollars!”
And just like that, my heart drops along with any hope I might have momentarily allowed myself.
The only comfort comes from knowing it will likely end up in the hands of a collector who will care for it, keeping it safe.
Mauro clears his throat, and I look over at him.
I’ll be right back.
I smile and nod as he rises, disappearing toward the other side of the room. Taking a slow sip of the wine before me, I watch the bidding war with a pang of homesickness as a dull ache spreads through my chest.
“And sold! Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to an anonymous buyer,” the MC declares.
I can’t help the sudden burst of tears that threatens to spill over. I slip from my seat and make my way to the restroom, striding through the building with my head in a fog.
Once inside, I’m relieved to find it empty and take a moment to breathe. Bracing my hands against the counter, I drop my head and close my eyes, waiting for the urge to cry to fade away.
Turning on the faucet, I splash my hands with cold water, then dry them, trying to wash away the sting of disappointment.
Sorry, Mom, I think. It just wasn’t meant to be.
I push the door open and feel the familiar buzz of my phone in my clutch. Reaching inside, I see my dad’s name glowing across the screen. I step into the hallway and turn down an alcove, pressing the phone to my ear. “Hi, Dad.”
“Alina,” he says softly. “I haven’t heard from you and was starting to get worried. How are you, sweetheart?”
I lean against a wall and let out a steady breath. “Sorry, I should have called.” Guilt eats at me for not seeing him sooner. “Everything’s fine. I’ll be stopping by tomorrow. I promise.”
“I’m looking forward to it. Do you think you could bring some—”
Suddenly, a man bumps into me, and my phone slips from my grasp, clattering to the floor.
“Shit, sorry. Let me get that for you.” He bends down, retrieves my phone, and hands it back with an apologetic smile.
I take it from him. “No worries.” Pressing it to my ear, I say, “Sorry, Dad.” Silence. “Dad?” I glance at the screen and find it black. Of course. My battery must have died. “Great,” I mutter under my breath.
“I really am sorry,” the man says again.
I flip open my clutch and slide the phone inside. “It’s fine. I forgot to charge it before I left my house. I’m sure that’s all it is.”
He chuckles, his gaze drifting slowly down the length of my dress. “That’s a very beautiful dress you have on.”
Unease curls in my stomach as I take a step back. “Thank you, but I should get back to my table.”
“Why the rush?” He smiles lazily and plants his palm against the wall, blocking my way.
My heart rate increases.
Run! My mind screams at me to move, but I’m trapped with him standing in the way of my only exit.
“I need to get back to my table,” I say, compelling my voice to stay calm.
But he isn’t fooled.
His eyes track me the way a predator views its kill.
He’s the big bad wolf.
And I’m the lost little lamb.
He steps forward, and I retreat, stepping backwards until my back meets a door. My hand slips behind me, fumbling for the handle. Locked.
“Who are you?” I ask, buying time as my eyes sweep the narrow space, searching for an opening to slip past him and call for help. But he’s big. Easily twice my size. An escape isn’t possible.
His eyes darken. “Just a man who always gets what he wants.”
My throat tightens as he looms closer. “Don’t touch me,” I force the words out, even as my hands tremble.
“Or what?”
A shiver washes over me, and I hug my clutch before me. “My husband will—”
“He’ll do what exactly?” His smile spreads, slow and cruel.
“Because I don’t see him here.” He chuckles, smoothing a hand over his slicked-back black hair.
“Besides…” He adjusts his jacket. “You really want to spend the rest of your night next to that beast when you could spend it with me instead? You’re too beautiful to be with the likes of him.
Come spend one night with me, and I’ll show you how good it could be. ”
“Help!”
His hand slaps over my mouth, his fingers digging into my cheek. Panic surges. I stomp on his foot as hard as I can. He grunts out in pain, his face morphing into displeasure.
“Listen, bitch—”
The man is ripped away from me, slammed into the wall as if he weighs nothing at all. I collapse into the corner, my legs giving out beneath me as my body shakes uncontrollably. I curl inward, my arms wrapping around my knees, trying to steady my breath.
When I finally dare to look up, Mauro is standing between us.
He appears like a god about to execute his wrath onto this man. Fury grows deep in his eyes, his skin transforming into a deep shade of red as veins bulge on the side of his neck.
For a brief moment, his gaze flicks to me. It softens just enough as his eyes sweep over me, checking for any visible injuries. When he seems satisfied that I’m physically unharmed, even if still shaken, something hardens again inside him.
Slowly, he turns back to the man now clutching his head against the wall.
“Listen,” the man begins, “it’s not what it looks like. She asked me to take her here and—”
Mauro’s fingers circle the man’s neck, pressing him forcefully against the wall. The man futilely tries to remove his hands, clawing at them with everything he has, but can’t, as he struggles for air.
Mauro removes one hand and shoves the man’s temple backward, cracking the plaster. Blood seeps from the back of his head as his lids appear too heavy to keep open.
Mauro levels the man with a glare, a cruel smile appearing on his face. “My…wife,” he says with vehemence. The rough possessive timbre of his voice sends my heart into overdrive.
I know then what he’s about to do and immediately flick my gaze to the top of my knees as I hear the snap of the man’s neck and then the thud of his body hitting the floor beside me.
A violent shiver takes over me from head to toe.
I’ve always known what Mauro does for his family.
The way he wields his strength to destroy his enemies.
It should frighten me. Give me unimaginable nightmares. Have me running for the nearest exit.
But this is the world I’ve grown up around, one I’ve learned to understand if not fully accept. And strangely, instead of fear, there’s a sense of safety in knowing where his loyalty lies.
However, witnessing it firsthand is another thing entirely.
And it leaves me shaken in a way I didn’t expect.
Mauro crouches before me, but I can’t face him. There are too many emotions swirling inside me, causing tears to spill out of my eyes as my heart thrashes against my rib cage.
His fingers slip beneath my chin, lifting my face until our eyes meet. My breath catches, fear blooming that he can see the truth that’s sitting on the tip of my tongue. Or sense the way my heart beats for him with so much longing.
He closes his eyes, drawing in a slow, steady breath, then straightens and offers me his hand.
Hesitantly, I place my palm in his. He’s extra gentle as he helps me to my feet and then quickly turns, leading us out of the space. Elio awaits nearby, and Mauro gestures to him with a hand to take care of the mess left behind us.
We don’t head back to the table with the rest of his family.
Instead, we walk straight for the exit, where Joey waits with my coat. Mauro takes it and holds it open for me. I slip my arms into the sleeves and cinch it tight around my waist, but the cold still seeps in.
The ride home passes in complete silence, the weight of everything unsaid riding with us.
I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve done something wrong. So I stare out the window, tears slipping freely down my cheeks as I brace myself for the ending I’m convinced is waiting for us once we get home.