6. Chapter 5 Ginevra
It’s been a week since Soren and I had our big blow out. I’m nervous to see him again and for his reaction to seeing me. Spraying him with bear spray was extreme. As much as I hate it, I’m going to have to be on my best behavior.
As my mother and I walk into the tent for Soren’s birthday, I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing as I look around at the outrageous decorations. There’s an ice sculpture of him, twinkling lights around the walls, with flowers and balloons everywhere. A large six-tier cake is off to the side with the number twenty-six on it. There are heaters on the perimeter, and you would never know it’s a chilly fall evening outside. A string quartet plays in the center as the focal point while everyone is dressed up to the nines; tuxedos for the men, ballgowns for the women.
My mother grips my elbow harder than necessary when she notices that I’m underdressed compared to everyone. I’m wearing a form-fitting sweater dress with long sleeves and a semi-daring neckline that dips farther down than I’d like. Much to my dismay, it’s new and cost more than I could afford on my own. I had to borrow some money from Jude and promise to pay him back with interest. I can’t help but think what a waste of money it was, even if I can try to dress it down for work, too.
“Alesso, Bria,” my mother greets Soren’s parents. His parents take turns kissing my mother’s sunken cheeks. I wonder what they think when they see her. Do they feel guilty? Remorse? Or are we just another pest they are forced to tolerate?
“You remember Ginevra.” She pushes me forward. Of course they do. I’ve attended every party they’ve thrown since the day I was born. I’m sure Soren’s mother changed some of my diapers when they used to be best friends. How times change.
Bria clasps my cold hands with her warm ones. “We would never forget her,” she says with sincerity. “It’s always a pleasure when she comes by with our dear Eva.”
My mother casts me a glare. I try not to tell her when I see Eva, because she gets all weird on me and it’s just plain uncomfortable. The glare quickly disappears with a forced smile.
“You must be so proud of Eva and excited about her marriage.” Here it comes. I already know the embarrassing verbal diarrhea about to explode from her mouth. “Ginevra didn’t find a prospective husband while in school, but we are hoping that her work will help put her in the right circles to find a good match. You see, we don’t have any connections for an arranged marriage.”
Eva has grown up knowing she was destined for an arranged marriage. I remember thinking I would have one too, but then my father died. Since his death, my mother has brought up the idea often, but it goes nowhere. I’m partially grateful for that. I couldn’t imagine having to marry a stranger.
“Ginevra is a brilliant girl. I’m sure she’ll make out just fine.” Alesso’s voice is strained as he speaks to my mother before he quickly dismisses us by waving to someone else.
My mother and I are left standing by ourselves and I steal a glance at her. “Did you hear him? He called you brilliant.” Her lips are cast down in an ugly sneer. “It doesn’t matter how brilliant they think you are. Husbands want a pretty girl who’ll support them. Being smart will only make you ask questions you shouldn’t be.” She huffs, continuing on her rant. Ah, yes. I have to be the silent type of wife. The idea is comical because that is not who I am. “Did you see how they just treated us? All of this should be ours,” she hisses as she grabs a glass of wine from a passing waiter.
I grit my teeth, knowing nothing I can or would say will help. It’s easier to let her vent. I hope she can at least try to enjoy herself after she gets it all out.
No matter how hard I try, her comments keep digging their way into my heart. Dear Lord, is it that terrible that I’m smart? I’ve never understood why intelligence is a bad trait.
“The man of the hour,” a voice booms through the PA system. “The birthday boy needs no introductions tonight, but he’s going to get one anyway! Soren Moretti!” his brother Cyrus announces to the crowd. My shoulders sag in relief that I don’t have to focus on my mother anymore.
Everyone’s attention goes to Soren, who’s walking in with his fiancée, Karissa, on his arm. His hand is splinted, gauze wrapping around his palm and up his wrist. Oh. My. God. I caused that! Even with an ugly bandage, he and Karissa look like the perfect power couple, elegant, smart, and gorgeous.
My heart speeds up seeing them and my eyes narrow in on his injured hand. I can’t stop looking at it. Stop staring. Stop staring, Ginevra.
I step closer to get a better look as they head toward his family, all of whom are standing in the middle of the tent. He struts up to the microphone, looking like a God coming to serve his people. It doesn’t matter that he looks ridiculous wearing viper sunglasses long after the sun has sunk below the horizon.
It’s like he can feel my glare on him and his head turns toward me. He’s holding the microphone, but instead of speaking, his gaze bores into me. I can’t see his eyes through the mirrored lenses, but I know he’s staring at me. The air around me crackles, sizzling across my skin. Goosebumps follow in its wake, sweeping down my body, and my breath gets caught in my throat.
Everyone is waiting for him to say something, anything, but I have his entire attention. I watch in slow motion as Soren lifts his sunglasses and displays his red-rimmed eyes for everyone to see. I suck in a breath, knowing it’s the aftermath of my bear spray.
Guilt entwines around my heart. I took it too far, but Soren makes me crazy and drives me to act in ways I normally never would.
“Don’t mind my eyes. It’s an allergic reaction.” His attention hasn’t left me as he says the words.
I want to look away but I can’t. After a few moments, as if I had imagined the whole thing, he looks away and speaks to the crowd. “Thank you to everyone who has come to celebrate another year around the sun with me.” He continues on wowing the crowd with his brown-nosing compliments and saying stuff he doesn’t mean. He speaks like everyone in this room is a member of his family and holds a special place in his heart. I bet his mother or Eva wrote his little speech. I’ll have to ask his sister about it.
Eva and I are constantly being thrown together at events. Over the years, we’ve learned we have to stick together. She’s my favorite Moretti, the only one I really like, actually.
As Soren continues with his fake speech, the event staff distributes glasses of champagne for everyone to cheers with. It’s like they know how long this speech will be and have every motion timed out perfectly, almost to the point of choreography. As the last glass is handed out, he finishes speaking.
The room erupts into the happy birthday song as everyone holds out their glass of sparkling bubbles.
Even with his red-rimmed eyes, he looks like he belongs as the center of attention. It suits him more than it would suit me or my family. Years ago, he made fun of my braces as we stood in a circle of people like this. A shiver races down my spine as I remember the embarrassment. No one dares to tease Soren, not even now. Not even with red eyes and a broken hand.
My attention drops to Karissa, who’s staring up at him with nothing but love gleaming from her eyes. Her family is just as rich as his, only nobody knows how her family gained their wealth. Her father is scary looking and not even Soren looks like he enjoys talking to him, but that could just be Soren’s personality, too.
My mother comes into my view and I’m forced to remember that being dependent on anyone is never a good thing. I will get my way out from under them and never allow myself to be in a position where someone can rip my livelihood out from under me again.
“You came!” Eva’s warm voice pulls me from looking at my mother and she engulfs me with a hug, her short frame stronger than she looks.
“We both know my family would have never allowed me to skip out on it.” I shrug and return her kind smile. “I’m sorry about your brothers ruining your date.”
She rolls her eyes and waves me off. “I’m pretty sure you saved my date’s life.” She giggles. “If Soren hadn’t been distracted by you…”
I raise my hand up, not wanting to talk about her brother. Just the thought of him gets me worked up.
“Enough. I want to enjoy my night.”
She chuckles before responding, “I will never understand the two of you. Now, let’s see who is brave enough to dance with me.” Her eyes twinkle while her brows jump up and down.
“You do love to stir up trouble.”
“Didn’t you hear? Trouble is my middle name.” Eva links her arm through mine as we do a lap around the tent.
Eva whispers and points out anyone worthy of significant gossip. “Cyrus didn’t. Oh, he did.” She’s pointing to a woman I’ve never seen before. Clearly, Cyrus is the one responsible for the guest list.
“Who’s she?” I ask.
“That is no other than Gemma. She’s one of the Armato brothers’ exes and my brothers love to hate that family. That’s the only reason I can think of to explain why she’s here.”
“Isn’t one of them an artist of some sort?”
“I don’t ask questions about things I don’t want to know the answers to.”
I don’t get much time to analyze the girl before Eva is pointing out another person, but my attention gets stuck on Soren and Karissa dancing. They’re so elegant together; I completely understand why their parents matched them up. They look perfect. I watch as they move in sync, performing the steps of a choreographed dance. They must have been practicing for a month. I know one dance, and it’s a random line dance. I’m all left feet, and when I watch how graceful they look, the way others watch them in awe, I wish I could be like that just once.
Eva’s parents come up to us, but my attention is still glued to Soren. I hate that he is perfect. That man only knows how to over achieve.
“I’ll be right back,” Eva comments as her parents lead her away. She looks worried about leaving me alone, but I wave her off. I know the drill for these types of parties.
I glance back to the dance floor where Soren and Karissa are finishing their dance while the room claps. It’s only then that other people make their way onto the dance floor and begin dancing. Not a single person wanted to disrupt their dance.
I take another sip, but nothing fills my mouth. My lips twist back and forth with disappointment, my head light with a slight buzz. I’m not used to drinking and the only reason I accepted was for the group cheers.
I stay near the edge of the tent and place my glass on the bar counter.
“Gin.” The deep timber of Soren’s voice has me turning around. “Our parents have informed me we must dance.”
Heat creeps up my neck and into my cheeks. “I’m sure Karissa doesn’t want me to keep you from her.”
I stand there awkwardly as he studies me for a moment before responding, “If you would like to go back to your mother and my parents, explaining that you refused my offer, then by all means, I will find another dance partner.” His words sound stiff and uncaring, like I’ve already taken up too much of his time. He doesn’t want to dance with me and I don’t want to be embarrassed by my two left feet.
“You know I can’t dance,” I stress. Memories of the last time my mother forced us to dance come rushing in. It was horrible.
He glances at his watch, then back at me, his features hard. Looking over my shoulder, I find my mother watching our exchange, and I let out a defeated huff as I place a fake smile on my lips.
“Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”
He extends his hand, but I refuse to take it. I don’t need to touch him any longer than absolutely necessary.
“Maybe if you removed the stick from your ass, you might enjoy yourself,” he replies, stealing my hand to drag me onto the dance floor.
“Say’s the prodigal son who has been handed his success on a silver platter. I’m sorry, I’m not one of your yes minions that follow you around.”
His chest vibrates with a quiet chuckle as he laughs. I stomp onto the dance floor, hating that he’s laughing at me. I can already imagine the entire room pointing at my two left feet.
Soren pulls me in, settling his hand on my lower back. For how much we fight, it’s surreal how perfectly I fit into him. He smells woody with a hint of cinnamon. It reminds me of fall. His large hand sprawls across my lower back and he pulls me in closer than necessary. He’s probably hoping I can’t step on his feet this way. Our bodies rock together, his warming mine from a sudden gust of wind that twirls around us. Someone must have opened the tent door.
My feet land on his as he turns me around and I feel like I’m running to catch up with each of his steps. There’s no doubt everyone can see that I have no clue how to dance.
“You’ve gotten better at this,” he comments. Is he mocking me? I tilt my head, studying him. His facial features give nothing away and my heart speeds up, wanting to believe him.
“Please. I feel like the ugly kid whose parents had to tie a sausage to them to get the dog to play with them,” I pout, concentrating on his steps.
His laughter grows loud, drawing attention to us. Someone dig a hole and push me in now.
His feet stay in the same position and I trample on them. I stop my counting and snap my head up to discover the reason behind the sudden stop.
“Did that happen to you?” he asks.
His hold hardens around me, his facial expression stony. Great. Now, he’s mad at my off-color joke. Or, dear Lord, he actually thinks I’m that ugly. I don’t know which one is worse.
Boys find smart girls ugly Ginevra. Stop reading and put on some makeup. My mother’s voice rings sharply in my ears from memory.
“Oh, shut up and keep dancing so we can get this over with.” I push his muscular body to move and keep dancing with me. It will be so much worse if he walks off the dance floor, leaving me here by myself. I can imagine what my mother will say when we get home.
Hesitantly, his muscles move, and we’re dancing once again, but it’s more strained than when we started. I look anywhere but at his face, not wanting to see his expression and how I’ve angered him. This is why I avoid Soren. Nothing ever good comes from any of our interactions. We’re like oil and water, never having figured out how to mix and be friendly. It always ends the same.
The song finishes and I let go of him, like his skin has burned me, and walk off the dance floor. I have to walk off first to save face. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if he was the one who left me standing by myself.
“What did my idiot brother do now?”
I jump at the sudden sound of Eva’s voice, placing my hand above my heart.
“Nothing, he was being a good boy and dancing with me, as my mother demanded. Ugh!” I fidget with my dress, pulling it lower on my legs and fixing the neckline.
“Do you need me to go kick his ass?” she asks, placing her hands on her hips.
My eyes follow Soren as he stalks off and steps outside the tent. His angry face has my guilt clawing its way into me. “No, I’m the one who should probably apologize.” Damn it. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”
I begrudgingly march to where Soren exited the tent. The night is black with a few lights illuminating their huge backyard. Where the heck did he go? When we were younger, he would sometimes sneak out here with his brothers and they would smoke. Eva and I would spy on them, listening to their conversations.
I go toward their little hiding spot, wondering if he started smoking again. It would be good for him to have a fault.
I get closer, only to find Soren with his pants around his ankles as he fucks Karissa against the tree. It’s dark, but their outline is clear as he continues to thrust into her. I stand there, watching in shock, and find myself fighting off a sudden pang of jealousy. I wish he craved me so badly he wouldn’t be able to wait until we were alone. My nipples pucker under my bra and I can feel myself growing wet. Where the heck is this coming from?
The slap of skin continues in a regular rhythm. She moans with pleasure and he dips his head to kiss her neck. I still can’t see his face and Karissa’s mouth is open in a big O.
The soft sound of grass crunching under someone’s weight behind me has me turning around to find Soren standing there with his hands fisted at his sides, saying nothing. I have to do a double take. If that’s Soren, who is with Karissa?
I gasp, the sound louder than necessary. My hands cover my mouth, forcing any other sound back down to where it came from. I’m rooted in my spot, knowing I need to leave, but my feet won’t listen.
“On my fucking birthday!” Soren seethes, obviously livid. His voice is hard, with a scary edge I’ve never heard before. I thought I’d seen him angry before, but he’s never been like this. I stand there, petrified; my feet unable to move.
Karissa opens her eyes. “Fuck.” She gasps and shoves the guy out of the way.
My heart hurts for Soren. No one deserves something like this.
“The fucking parking attendant!” Soren growls, his teeth bared in a snarl.
Her perfectly manicured fingers fix her smudged lipstick as she rights her dress with the other hand. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” She has a sincere, soft smile on her lips, and if I hadn’t seen with my own eyes, I would never know she was apologizing for fucking someone who was not her soon-to-be husband.
“You come here and disrespect me—disrespect my family—on my birthday. After all the generosity we’ve extended to your family.”
“Me?” She points to me and my eyes grow wide. Soren’s attention hardens on me before he’s looking back at Karissa. “You’re out here with her. All I ever hear about is Gin this, Gin that.” She stomps her foot. “I’m going to be your wife, not her.”
My eyes bounce between them, not understanding what the hell is going on.
The parking guy makes a sound to talk and Soren holds his hand up to him. “Leave. Now,” he demands.
“Forgive me, Soren.” Karissa walks up to Soren, trying to place a kiss on his cheek, but he takes a step back.
“Please, I don’t take sloppy seconds.”
“There would be no need for seconds if you would allow yourself to fall in love with me instead of putting up impossible barriers.” Her fingers trail down his chest. “No one in this world wants someone as cold as stone, but here I am.”
I watch Soren work his jaw back and forth. His hand draws his gun, but it stays aimed at the ground. “Your father has a business because we allow it.”
“What are you going to do, shoot me, Soren?”
“No. I don’t hurt women.” He holsters his gun back inside his suit jacket. “But if you don’t leave town in the next twelve hours, I’m telling your father that you are no longer a virgin.”
Her eyes grow wide at the threat. “He’ll kill me.” Her voice grows scared. “You know that.”
I take a step closer, not believing my own eyes when I step on a twig and it cracks under my feet. Both of them turn their glares on me and stare.
Soren curses under his breath before his eyes flick over me like a bug he wants to squash. He turns back to Karissa. “What will it be?” he demands, and she jumps at the boom of his voice.
“He’ll kill me!” She stresses again, falling to her knees. “I can fix this,” she pleads. Surely, her father wouldn’t actually kill her.
“There is nothing left to fix, Karissa.”
Tears pour down her face and she grabs for his legs. I need to go. I can’t be watching this, but why can’t I look away?
“I have nowhere to go.” Her voice trembles with the admission.
I pull at my long sleeves, my arms crossing over my torso, and take a step back. I have to get out of here.
“Don’t you dare move, Gin,” he commands, and my muscles listen. His voice is lethal and sexy as sin.
“Please don’t make me watch this.”
He looks at me over his shoulder and I realize I said it aloud. His eyes are dark and hard, making me wish I had never come out here.
“Twelve hours, Karissa.” He’s still looking at me while he speaks to his fiancée.
I hear her scramble to her feet, but Soren holds my gaze. “Now what should I do with you?” his fingers pull over the scruff of his jaw. My feet refuse to move, but my body sways with the lack of available oxygen.