“We both know I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice,” I tell her as Morgen has her back turned. My words are spoken through grit teeth. “But as long as we’re here, I suppose we should have some fun.”
Rosalie’s brow furrows lightly, but she nods and looks away from me.
“Here you are. Have a wonderful night, you two,” Morgen says as she slides both of our drinks to us. Rosalie having gotten a glass of wine.
“I wouldn’t take you for the wine type,” I tell her as we turn around and face the room filled with people all here for us.
“I’m not, but if I want to keep my composure, I need to drink lightly,” she explains. She taps her freshly manicured nails on the stem of the glass for a moment before taking a sip.
I take a heavy drink of my own, and feel the burn down my throat. Frankly, I could do with some rum straight—skip the coke—but I know she’s right. If I want to keep my head, I need to drink lightly as well.
“Well, shall we mingle?” I ask her.
“It’s a better idea than dancing,” she agrees.
There are several couples dancing in the center of the room, but we avoid that area. Instead roaming around and greeting the guests. There are at least a hundred people in the room.
From the ceiling, glittering glass bobbles hang down, and whenever there’s a slight breeze in the room they clink together and make a sound akin to the fairy bells from a childhood story.
All around us accents of white, silver, and blue are strung up on marble beams, intertwined with twinkling strings of lights.
“You’re almost more beautiful than the sun itself, Rosalie,” someone I don’t recognize tells her, and they hug briefly, exchange kisses on each cheek.
He turns to me and offers his hand. I shake it, squeezing firmly and then letting go after two.
“I’m Vernon. Eivor’s cousin. We don’t see each other very often,” Vernon explains. “I spend most of my time in Russia with my lovely wife who couldn’t be here today, bless her heart.”
I look to Rosalie for a moment.
“She’s very sick. She can’t travel,” Rosalie tells me with a waver in her smile.
I should care. I should wrap my arm around her and comfort her. I should want to do these things…but I don’t, not really.
I know it’s what’s expected of me here though, so I place my hand on her back and give her a look of sadness for just a second before looking at Vernon. “I’m sorry to hear that. We’re so glad you could be here today. Will you be at the wedding?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for anything. I can’t believe this is the first time we’re meeting. Little Rosa keeps so many secrets! Like how much she’s grown,” he says with a laugh. “I’ll be staying here until the wedding.”
“Great,” I say, and catch myself before my tone lowers into boredom. “We’ll seat you in the front.”
The conversation lingers until I can hardly take it, but I smile and sip at my drink. Until said drink is gone, and I’m left with nothing to quell the irritation.
I glance to the side while Rosalie continues to talk, and I see him.
Damian Rossi.
He’s standing nearby, watching us. Guarding us. As it is his job to do. Still, I find myself meeting his gaze as best as I can. His eyes covered by sunglasses. A strange thing to be wearing inside, but I know why he does it. It conceals him but lets him look at everyone around him. I have yet to see his actual eyes. I find myself wondering what color they are. What expression is laced in them as he watches the guests all around us, but then comes back to focus on Rosalie and I.
“Alessio?” Rosalie grabs my attention.
I look at her apologetically. “Yes, my love?”
My words seem to surprise her ever so slightly, as her eyes widen just a tad before she seems to remember the game we are playing.
“Would you be so kind as to get me another glass of wine?” she asks.
“Of course,” I tell her, and I’m incredibly grateful for the chance to get away.
I grab her wine glass and head back over to the bar to get it refilled, along with my own drink.
