Yuki
As the celebration progresses, I stay near Augusto so I don’t give him a reason to get angry with me.
When his plate is empty again, I take it from him and load more of the finger foods for him to eat. As I offer the plate to him, his eyes flick to my face.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I will.”
He doesn’t take the plate from me but instead orders, “Eat now.”
Kuso.I’ve angered him.
A tremble moves through my body as I pick up a cracker with smoked salmon. When I place it in my mouth, Augusto watches as I chew. Feeling very uncomfortable, I lower my eyes to the plate.
The delicious taste of the salmon bursts over my tongue, and my eyes almost drift shut from how good it is.
“Eat everything on the plate,” Augusto orders.
As I carry out the order, my stomach rumbles, and I begin to worry that all the rich food is going to make me sick. For the past three months, I’ve lived on steamed rice. Well, except for the few times I was able to steal something during a cooking lesson.
Against my better judgment, I empty the plate. A server comes to take it from me, then Augusto hands me a glass of champagne.
I’ve already had one during the toasts, and it tasted sweet and bubbly. Much better than the alcohol I was always given at clubs and restaurants when I used to pretend to be Ryo.
Suddenly, my eyes lock on another familiar face, and fear slithers down my spine when I remember how he beat me for touching Gianna.
“Come.” Augusto takes hold of my arm, but his grip isn’t too tight as he pulls me closer to Enzo.
My fingers clench around the stem of the flute, and as we stop in front of Enzo, the glass shatters in my hand.
“Fuck!” Augusto curses loudly.
I jump with fright, and panicking, my breaths come fast.
I’m hauled into the house, and when we reach a restroom, my hand is shoved under the cold water faucet. I watch as my blood cicles down the drain while a cold sweat beads on my forehead.
“Is she okay?” I hear Samantha ask.
Augusto inspects my hand, then he replies in a brisk tone, “The cut doesn’t look deep. Can you bring me a Band-Aid, please?”
He pats my hand dry with a towel, then his eyes flick to mine.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, hoping it will ease his anger.
Samantha comes rushing back into the restroom, and I watch as Augusto sticks the Band-Aid over the cut between my thumb and pointer finger.
The wedding ring draws my attention, and I stare at the sparkling diamond until Samantha brushes her hand up and down my back.
“Let’s get back to the party.”
I nod, but Augusto takes hold of my arm again. “Mom, can you tell Enzo I want to see him?”
Samantha nods, and when she leaves, Augusto leads me to a living room. When Enzo comes in via the open sliding doors, my body tenses even more.
There’s a weird expression on his face when he stops a few steps away from me.
“Jesus,” he whispers, his tone tense, then he shakes his head.
