Chapter Twenty-seven
RONAN
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
Nina Chiara Moretti.
That was the one name roaming in my head.
She was the one woman always on my mind and the last person I expected to see at my hospital last night. Seeing her again, standing there with that fire in her eyes, caught me off guard. She was breathtaking.
Her dark skin glowed under the hospital lights, accentuated by a black dress that hugged her curves perfectly.
Red stilettos, matching her lips and coat, added an enticing edge.
Bold eye makeup intensified the fierceness of her gaze.
Despite the years, she still held the same magnetism that first drew me to her.
“Why did you have to make me hate you?”
Her words cut through me like a knife.
I searched her eyes for answers, but she withdrew, her vulnerability quickly masked by indifference. When she declined my offer to take her home, I had two unmarked vehicles follow her, ensuring the Uber took her safely. I didn’t leave my office until I got the all-clear.
Another off day passed quickly as I caught up on patient files before getting ready for Dillon’s annual birthday gala.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored Stuart Hughes suit, my black hair slicked back and Baccarat Rouge scent in the air, I admired my reflection.
The deep charcoal suit with a hint of midnight blue set me apart from the sea of blacks and grays, and as I adjusted my cufflinks, thoughts of Nina distracted me, though I knew she’d be there to ease my nerves.
The ride to the gala was smooth, a welcome break from the usual traffic chaos. I parked, handed the keys to the valet, and stepped into a flurry of flashing lights and paparazzi.
“Dr. Romano!” a TMZ reporter shouted above the din. “It’s amazing to see you here. We assumed you wouldn’t be in attendance.”
“This gala is way too important to miss,” I replied, my voice steady.
Another reporter piped up, “Where’s your date, Dr. Romano?”
I offered a sly smile. “You’ll see her arriving soon, or maybe she’s already here.”
“And how will we know it’s her?” a cheeky voice called out.
I turned, eyes gleaming with confidence. “You’ll notice the most gorgeous Black-Italian woman in the room,” I declared, leaving them buzzing with curiosity as I entered the venue.
Then, as if orchestrated by destiny itself, I saw her.
She stood at the entrance, and the world paused. Her dress, rich as wine, clung to her in all the right places, shimmering under the chandelier’s glow. The off-the-shoulder design framed her neck perfectly, while the thigh-high slit teased a glimpse of her leg, enhanced by gold heels.
Her braids were swooped to one side, and diamond earrings caught the light with every movement. The simple diamond necklace resting at her collarbone drew me in, while the gown whispered with each step, matching the frantic beat of my heart.
Her smoky eyes held a fire, and her deep red lips spoke a silent promise. Her skin glowed, radiating a beauty so perfect it felt unreal.
Seeing her like this, so breathtakingly beautiful, my knees nearly gave out.
The room around me faded into oblivion as my entire being gravitated toward her.
My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing with the realization of how deeply she affected me.
Every inch of her, from the gentle curve of her hips to the confident way she held herself, spoke volumes of the woman she had become—the woman I had fallen irrevocably in love with years ago and the one who still held my heart in her palms.
“Nina,” I whispered to myself, the word barely escaping my lips as I made my way toward her.
I walked over to her, each step bringing me closer to the intoxicating aura she exuded. “Nina,” I greeted her, my voice betraying the mixture of awe and longing I felt. “Sei fottutamente splendida.53”
Her million-dollar smile appeared. “Thank you, Ronan. You clean up nicely, yourself.”
“I’d like to think I look better than that.”
“Can’t confirm or deny,” she teased.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“We’ll never know.”
My eyes continued to study her as I got an up-close view of her dress, only now realizing that there was a patterned fabric on top of the red I saw.
“You designed this?”
“Cosa?”
“Your dress.”
She nodded, smoothly brushing her hand over the fabric. “I did.”
“It is absolutely beautiful. You’re stunning and talented.”
“Grazie.”
I led her to a seat, but a group of women in the industry called her over. I hated seeing her go, but this was her passion, and there was nothing I loved more than seeing her thrive in her element.
A waiter was passing, and I swiftly grabbed the bottle of champagne before I made my way to the table where my dearest friends sat.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Arnoldo noticed, walking over to greet me.
“Fashionably late, as always.”
“Who’s your date?” I asked him, knowing he didn’t have one, but always loved to piss him off.
“I haven’t found her yet.”
I rolled my eyes at his asshole-ness. “Why did I even ask?”
“Not sure,” he responded and sipped his drink, which I could only assume was gin.
Alexander walked over, dressed in the most fitted black tuxedo. I was so surprised to see him out so soon.
“What a surprise, Alex,” I noted.
“Ronan!” he called out, “good to see you, man. You too, Reyes.”
“How’s being a dad?” Arnoldo asked.
“It’s stressful, but every time I look at my son and my beautiful wife, I don’t care about the stress,” he said, and that truly warmed my heart.
“See Reyes,” I called out, “look how amazing love is.”
“Wasn’t so amazing when he was sneaking behind Dillon’s back,” Arnoldo brought up.
“Asshole,” we both muttered to him.
“It’s true, but that aside, your son is adorable,” Arnoldo added.
“Wow!” Alex sarcastically exclaimed. “He does have sentiments.”
We continued speaking until Dillon and Azzaria came over and joined us. Dillon Xander, the man of the hour, who, with mere steps, could command a crowd.
“Xander,” I called out, “late to your own gala?”
“I was busy,” he said, fixing his tie as he glanced at Azzaria, who simultaneously fixed her dress.
I erased the image from my mind and instantly forgot I asked the question.
“Where’s your date, Ronan?” Azzaria asked.
“Great question,” Arnoldo chimed in, “Where is your date?”
“I’m here with my ex-girlfriend.” This was a gross exaggeration, but it was necessary with the aim of manifesting and embarrassing Arnoldo.
Silence drifted among the guys, and Dillon looked at me knowingly, but with a hint of confusion.
“Nina?” he asked, his features now hardening.
“Who else would it be?”
“Give her my best and this time, don’t fuck it up,” he said, “neither of you.”
I nodded as the conversation shifted and people scattered.
I walked around, catching up with a few, including Mikkel, who asked me for a favor for his girlfriend.
It was heartwarming to see my brothers so in love.
But even amid all that, my gaze kept returning to her, captivated by every move she made across the room.
“When did you get here, fratello?54”
“Been here for twenty minutes,” he stated, and I found that to be a lie until Mikkel’s girl looked over at me, nodding in confirmation.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was distracted.”
“I could see,” he whispered, “We all can see.”
I chuckled, “She is just…”
“Just?”
“Everything and more.” There were so many words racing through my mind, but those were the only ones that could come out.
“What do you see when you look at her, Ronan?”
“I see…” I trailed, my eyes glimpsing her again. This time, I saw her wide smile as she stood at the Vivienne Westwood booth, which I forgot was a sponsor at this event.
“You see?” he asked again, catching my attention.
“I see forever.”
The evening had progressed beautifully. There had been speeches tugging at the heartstrings and performances that enchanted the soul.
Every year, I thought Dillon’s speeches for this event couldn’t get any better, and this year proved me wrong.
I will forever commend him for his unrelenting efforts to help this cause.
He has done a world of good for abuse victims, and I couldn’t help being proud of him.
“How much did you donate?” Arnoldo asked as we settled into our seats.
“Two hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars,” I said, a proud yet humble smile spreading across my face. “You?”
“The same amount,” he replied, his tone matching mine.
As the evening continued, the gentle hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses filled the air. The room was bathed in a golden glow, the elegant decor adding to the enchantment of the night.
“I think this year’s turnout is the best we’ve ever seen,” I commented, glancing around the room filled with elegantly dressed guests. “Dillon will definitely be pleased.”
Arnoldo nodded, a satisfied expression on his face. “It’s an amazing cause, too.”
“And the auction items this year are spectacular,” I added, my eyes catching sight of a beautiful painting being displayed on the stage. “Did you see that piece by the local artist?”
Arnoldo’s eyes lit up. “I placed a bid on it. It’ll look great in my office.”
“Sou—”
Amidst the crowd, I spotted Nina by the grand piano. The soft light haloed her, enhancing her ethereal beauty.
“Can we cut this short, Reyes?”
His gaze followed mine, and he chuckled as he sipped a glass of wine. “Of course. Oh, to be in love.”
“Oh, to be in love, indeed,” I repeated, my gaze remaining intense, and I sauntered across the room.
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I made my way towards her. With each step, the anticipation grew, and the noise of the room seemed to fade into the background.
When I finally reached her, I gently touched her arm, causing her to turn around.
“I do believe we were cut short earlier,” I murmured, my voice laced with longing.
Nina’s eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Ronan,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Perhaps.”
A soft chuckle escaped me, warmth flooding my senses at the sight of her. “Gonna leave me hanging?”