Chapter 19
"The audacity to sleep in on the introduction day. Got some nerves, girl."
I stirred, groaning as my eyes fluttered open to the sight of brown eyes, long lashes, and a forehead marked with red vermilion. My brain lagged for half a second, then I saw the gold nose ring.
"Asvika!" I yelped, jolting upright so fast the duvet slipped off my shoulder. The sleep vanished instantly.
She grinned, climbing into the bed like a wrecking ball wrapped in Dior. "I couldn't miss your introduction day for the world. But it seems you plan to."
Then I saw her.
In the corner.
My mother.
Standing like a statue dipped in silk. Arms crossed. Face unreadable. She hadn't even changed out of her travel pants.
I swallowed.
She didn't speak, only stared at me. Like my entire existence was a disappointment.
To be fair, I was still in bed. Hair a mess. Lips probably stained with yesterday's lipstick.
That bike-riding bastard. He didn't wake me.
Zorian. He said he'd wake me up. He promised.
Asvika leaned in close, bangles clinking as she poked my cheek. "Girl, I thought you were going to be the mafia's second sun today. Instead, you're over here drooling on silk."
"I wasn't drooling," I muttered, wiping my mouth.
She raised a brow. "Mm."
My mother finally spoke. "You have thirty minutes to get dressed. The guests are arriving soon."
Her voice was blade sharp. No emotion.
"Yes, ma'am."
She turned and walked out, her heels echoing like gunshots on marble.
I could guess why she didn't lash out. Last time she did, a cup landed on my face and I left home.
Asvika let out a low whistle. "If my mum looked at me like that, I'd fake my death."
I groaned, flopping back on the bed. "You might have to help me."
The door clicked shut behind my mother, and silence dropped like a chandelier.
"Remind me why I'm doing this again?" I grumbled.
"Because you love drama," Asvika answered, grinning. "And power. And maybe a tiny sliver of Aurelio's six-pack."
I threw a pillow at her.
She dodged. "Violent princess! Okay, okay! You're doing it for the empire. Strategic alliance. Blah blah."
"Mhm," I mumbled, dragging myself out of bed."
Why was this family introduction in the morning? Like, weren't we the mafia? We're supposed to thrive at night.
"Did you agree to this engagement sober?" Asvika questioned.
“I haven't agreed to anything. Who says I'm getting engaged?”
She laughed. "This whole thing is between your mother and Aurelio. You're just the collateral."
I went quiet. She knew why I was really doing this. Why I came back here. Because it was what Sanaaya would've wanted.
I could almost see her. Hear her. She and Asvika would've made this day tolerable.
"I'll explain the breakdown," Asvika said, flipping her phone to landscape like she was showing me a movie. "This morning you meet the photographers, take pictures, meet some of the Kashani family, very formal, very stiff. Then in the evening, everyone shows up, the party starts."
"And I have to be there for all of it?"
"No, you can sit beside Auntie and play solitaire. Of course you must be there!" She remarked, rolling her eyes.
My phone buzzed.
I reached for it.
The Right Mr Wrong:Can't wait to see you dazzle twice today. Just hope that pretty mouth of yours doesn't ruin everything. Stay calm.
I chuckled. Low and bitter.I could already picture the smirk on his face while typing that.
Tolerable Bastard.
"What?" Asvika asked, leaning over. I glanced down, checking if her makeup had rubbed off on my pyjamas.
"Nothing. Just Aurelio being himself."
"You barely even know him," she said. "But I can already smell the menace in that emoji."
I stood, stretching. "I need coffee. And a glam team. And maybe a tranquilizer."
"Nah, you need foundation, good lighting, and a weapon in your bra."
She tossed me my robe.
Ten minutes later, I was seated in my vanity.Curls pinned. Gold dusted across my collarbone. Lips a precise shade of red.
The door creaked open.
Zorian.
Dressed in black. Of course. Fitted suit. No tie.
His eyes met mine in the mirror first, and last night’s events flashed across them.
"You didn't wake me," I said, voice flat.
Asvika looked between us like she was watching a live Korean drama. Didn't even blink.
"You looked peaceful," he said. "Didn't want to ruin it."
"Right. So instead, you let me almost get disowned."
"My bad. You're up now." Then, softer, "You look stunning."
My throat tightened, but I said nothing.
Asvika, being the dramatic creature she was, stood up with a fake sigh. "I'll go check on the floor or something."
She slid out of the room before I could stop her.
"Shit." I turned to him. "Now you've scared off my best friend. Help me with my dress."
I turned my back. Seconds passed as if time had frozen briefly. Until I broke the silence.
"Do you not know how zippers work, Zorian?"
He hesitated, then his fingers brushed my spine, goose bumps.
The zipper came up slowly. Clean.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure, Sage."
That nickname again.
Did I hate it? No.
Did I hate how he said it like he meant it? A little.
"Can you grab my shoes from the closet?" I asked.
He nodded, placing his phone on the desk. It buzzed just then.
The screen lit up.
My breath caught.
It was the picture. Helmets on. Eyes locked. From that night.
His lock-screen.
He walked back like nothing had happened. I pretended I hadn't seen it.
"I'm here to escort you," he said. "It's time."
I stood, smoothing down the black mermaid dress with its lace cape. Heavy. Sharp. Like a weapon stitched in silk.
"Let's go, then. "But the picture stayed in my mind. It was a good picture though.
The hall smelled like money and old power.
A long dining table filled the centre, flanked by men in suits and women drowning in diamonds. Lawyers. Family. The Kashanis. A few Versaces.
My mother and I were the last ones who bore the Versace name; the others were distant cousins and relatives.
Business came first. Documents. Policies. Publicity. Exactly as Asvika explained.
Then a Kashani elder leaned forward, voice deliberately mocking.
"How will you lead if your emotions get in the way? A woman like you should be seen, not heard."
I smiled, razor-sharp. A tick in my brain.
"If you can't take orders from a fucking woman, better start using your brain before I replace your seat with someone who can."
Silence.
Then Aurelio, seated at the far end, smirked. His eyes were trained on me as if saying, "I support."
"That's my future fiancée, everyone."
I didn't look at him. But I smiled.
I wanted to crawl into a corner and hide. It was the 26th photographer in a row, and I couldn't answer another question without being sarcastic or straight-up rude.
Zorian, as if he read my mind, stepped forward and gently ushered the press out of the room.
I moved closer to Aurelio. His cologne was comfortable.
"Versace," he said smoothly, "I have something to show you."
I followed him into a smaller back room. Zorian trailed us at a distance.
Then, I saw it, stopping immediately in my steps.
Shit.
Flowers.
Fucking flowers. And not just any flower. White roses. A massive bouquet of them.
I hated flowers. I hated white roses.
I forced a smile. "Wow, Aurelio. This is so pretty. And beautiful. Thank you. I'll just go rest for a bit. I'll see you in the evening." I didn't want to be anywhere near them.
"Wait, you didn't even—"
"You heard the lady," Zorian cut in, stepping between us. "She'll see you tonight."
I reached for Zorian's arm, gripping it to silently tell him: not here. Don't be rash.
Aurelio frowned, eyes flicking to our linked arms. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head, and gave him a tight smile.
"You owe me two dances tonight, Versace."
"Yeah, bye," I replied, pulling Zorian along before he could say another word.
Later, back in my room, I sat on the bed trying to scrub the image of those flowers out of my mind.
Zorian leaned against the wall. "You didn't like the roses?"
I didn't look at him. "I hate flowers."
"Why?"
I hesitated.
He didn't press.
But I knew he wanted to.
I wasn't ready to explain.
Not the truth. Not the part where flowers weren't just flowers.