Ofelia
M y smile was fake, the pain on my cheek fierce, and the entire gala was torture.
I remembered very little about Mario except that he was handsome. That was still true, but now knowing what plans my papa had for the both of us, something about him just soured. It was that and the fact that he’d stayed glued to my side all night, giving me very little room to breathe, let alone think.
When I finally got a chance to slip away into the restroom, it was to find Fabián still hadn’t texted me back.
I kept my tears at bay and carefully splashed water on my face, uncaring if it wiped the makeup off and put my papá’s handprint front and center. Though I wasn’t sure it mattered if anyone saw it. He would likely find some way to spin the story and make it my fault, all while making me feel guilty about what he’d done to me.
How had I never noticed that nasty dark side of his? Right, because I was so busy being perfect and trying to please him. I’d forgotten what abuse was, thinking I’d never experienced it at all. Sometimes abuse wasn’t just slaps to the face. It had other, uglier facets too. Emotional, verbal. Sometimes it was more subtle. It had taken him actually striking me for me to see the truth of his facade.
Clutching my purse in my hand, I stormed out of the bathroom, slamming face-first into Mario.
I couldn’t shake this damn man, and it was starting to grate on every nerve I possessed.
“.” His smile was wide and slimy. I wondered how much he knew about the arrangement my papa had going on. Probably all of it, if the way he was cozying up was of any indication.
I hated him.
I hated them all.
And I desperately missed Fabián.
I tried not to let the hurt feelings linger that he hadn’t texted me back. I was sure he had his own reasons for doing it. I couldn’t let doubts get to me, not when he was my only ally, the only person I found myself trusting in this suddenly treacherous world.
“Excuse me.” I side-stepped Mario and power walked away as much as my heels would let me, but he only followed. “I need a moment to breathe,” I called back.
Pushing my way through the crush of bodies, I finally found wide, open doors that led out to a balcony and the warm night. My hands slapped down on the railing and I gulped down breaths of air, suddenly feeling like I was drowning and there was no way up.
Then there were hands on my waist, pulling me back to the moment. Hands I didn’t recognize circled me and then began to roam, sliding over and cupping my ass roughly. I gasped my surprise, jerking away from the touch. I twisted, turning to glare over my shoulder, but was shoved roughly over the balcony railing.
“Don’t move.” Mario’s voice held malice, the kind that made paralyzing fear twist through my insides. His fingers wrapped into my hair, pulling it from its neat bun, his grip pinching my scalp. I cried out in pain, but he didn’t seem to care. He shoved me further over the balcony until my upper half dangled over the edge.
My eyes stared down at the fall, hands trying desperately to grab onto something for purchase, but I felt suspended, dangerously close to death.
“Mario, stop it! Let me up!”
“Shut up, .” The tulle of my dress slid up my bare thighs, assaulted by the night’s breeze and the press of his tailored pants. “You’re going to be my wife someday. I want a sample beforehand.”
“No!” I lashed out, but all it did was make me slip further... Mario held me up by my hair, and the tears of pain and rage could no longer be held back. I kicked my legs out, sliding further, feeling the rail dig deeper into my stomach. For a single moment, I contemplated using all of my force to get him away, even if I fell. Even if my legs snapped. Even if I died.
“Let go of–”
Mario’s body was suddenly yanked away from mine. Without the pressure of him against me, my fingers frantically pushed away from the railing and I whirled, heart beating fast, and watched the scene unfold before me.
Fabián had pulled Mario away from me, and the look of rage settled over his features was eerie enough that my gut sank. There was an eerie calm around him as he resorted to violence, pounding his fists over and over against Mario like it cost him nothing at all. He barely breathed, didn’t say a single word, as his fury came out in violence until blood burst and Mario stopped moving at all.
I wondered if he would kill him, and for a moment, I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not with the imprint of his hands fresh on my body. Not with what he had planned for me. Not when he’d dangled my life over that stupid ledge like I was so easily replaceable, like he didn’t care if I fell at all.
Maybe a sick part of me wanted Fabián to kill him. But my love for him was greater than my need for revenge.
“Fabián, don’t.”
At the sound of my voice, he pulled back, whipping that dark, calm gaze in my direction. The only evidence of his fury was the vicious flare of his nostrils and the blown pupils.
I took full stock of him, noticing the dark suit he wore and the black dress shirt opened at the neck, revealing that familiar blade there.
I blinked. “What are you wearing?”
He let out a breath. “You told me there was a gala.”
My hands smoothed the tulle over my legs. I could still feel the pressure of Mario’s hands, no matter how much I wanted to forget right then.
Fabián eyed my movements and frowned. “You’re shaking, princesita.” He stepped over an unconscious Mario and reached for my hands. The warmth of him settled the shock that wracked my body with tremors. I didn’t even care that he was covered in blood.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Oye, no.” He let my hands go to cup my cheeks, ensuring that I was looking into his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“My papá sprung it on me as we left the house,” I rushed to explain. My throat was tight as I got the words out. Would my papá still have made me if he’d known what type of man Mario was? I didn’t know him anymore, so I couldn’t say for certain. “He... he hit me, Fabián. My papá.”
His nostrils flared. “Has he ever done that before?”
I cried, feeling the sob wrench out of me. “No. And tonight he told me he’s going to pull me out of the academy and out of dance. He wants to marry me off to him .” My eyes flicked over Mario’s limp form.
Fabián visibly swallowed. “You can’t quit dance,” he whispered. “That’s your life.”
I closed my eyes, feeling that grief wash over me all over again. “I know. But I don’t think he’s going to change his mind.”
“Then we don’t have any other choice...” His fingers caressed my cheeks, pushing aside the strands of hair that fell from their knot. He was gentle, even with blood staining his hands. “Run away with me, .”