I know he sees in my eyes that I’m not just talking about the knife, and that’s enough.
Chapter 12
Roxy
The air inside is thick with the scent of vanilla and sparkling wine. My gaze lands on Marco and his son near the entrance, their conversation tense and animated.
I scan the room for Beatrice, but I don't see her here or in the garden behind the ballroom. I make my way toward the groom, hoping he at least knows where his runaway bride went.
Just what I needed after the scene from earlier.As if having my mother's killer standing just a few feet away wasn't enough, there was also that kiss, the one that still burns on my lips. It wasn't my first kiss, and it certainly won't be my last, but I know I'll remember this one for years to come because no one has ever kissed me like that. Like I was the very air they breathed, like the universe itself had paused for a moment just to witness it.
That’s exactly how it felt. As if nothing else mattered as long as Damien's body was pressed to mine. And that's a feeling that will shatter my heart the moment he finds someone else to orbit.
No matter how much I try to pretend otherwise, I’m not made of stone. I have to admit that over the last few months, his presence has become a strange sort of comfort. Just knowinghe's somewhere nearby, watching from the shadows, puts me at ease. Even now, when I can no longer see him, I know he’s close.
The click of my heels on the floor makes Marco turn, and both he and his son go rigid.
Luca is wearing a beige suit with a navy tie, an impeccably pressed white shirt, and caramel-colored shoes. His brown hair is cut short on the sides, with a few rebellious strands falling over his forehead. I can't help but smile at the contrast he makes with his bride. One is the picture of elegance, the other the very definition of chaos.
"I hope the venue is what you wanted. Sorry, Luca, I couldn't find an available cemetery," I say.
The corners of Luca's mouth twitch upward, the only sign my morbid humor amuses him.
"Everything is perfect, Roxy," Marco answers, and I could swear I see something akin to adoration in his gaze. The feeling makes me want to shift uncomfortably on my feet, but I manage to control myself at the last second.
"Have you seen Beatrice by any chance?"
"She's probably sacrificing innocent souls nearby. If you want to find Chucky, you should follow the screams," Luca replies, and this time I really do roll my eyes at his remark.
Yes, Beatrice is odd, but in a good way. I see so many brides who all aim for a polished, almost indistinguishable look. So many women chasing the same template, the same color, the same monotony, just because it’s what they see around them and what has been imposed on them as normal.
Beatrice is...a breath of fresh air. I would have preferred she wear a more conventional wedding dress, but that’s another matter. She’s not nearly as awful as Luca makes her out to be.And I wonder what the hell happened between them that they can’t stand each other.
"Go find your bride, son." Marco's tone is laced with disappointment, and even I feel a pang in my chest.
Luca just nods and retreats toward the garden, most likely looking for his own escape from this event.
I'm still watching him go when I hear Marco's voice.
"I know it doesn't seem like it, but Bia is the right choice for him. I just wish he understood that I don't want to destroy his life even though he feels like it."
"Sometimes parents make decisions that their children don't understand at the time," I say quietly, thinking of my mother. For years, I didn’t understand why she locked me in that closet, years I wished she would tell me whom she was meeting in secret, because one thing is clear: she knew the person who ended her life.
It's a shame my memories from those days are a complete blur. Years of therapy with Uncle Henry still haven't managed to bring any more light into my mind.
When I look up, his eyes are studying my face.
"I just hope he doesn't hate me," he says, and I don't know why, but I feel like he's not talking about Luca anymore.
Feeling uneasy in his presence, I force a smile and back away.
Yuri is in a corner, arguing with the DJ when I reach them.
"The first dance is to 'Biblical' by Calum Scott, not 'Vivo per lei.' God, do I have to do everything myself?"
I look at him, amused, as he turns to me.
"Were you in the woods?" he asks, and anxiety clenches in my chest. "You have a leaf in your hair. Hold on..."
