Damian only nods at me and then turns to follow Rosalie inside. We don’t walk together. I walk behind them as someone else comes and takes the car into the garage.
I watch the two of them as they walk, but my eyes land more so on Damian’s backside. I tilt my head to the side slightly. Then, I remember that there might be camera’s around.
So, I keep looking until we get to the door. Rosalie reaches for me, and I take her hand.
The game begins once again. Much to my displeasure.
There’re only a dozen people inside, at least. It’s just enough to hold our attention without taking up all of our time. There’s no one taking photographs either. I take a deep breath, grateful that I won’t be posing for more pictures tonight.
I look around, expecting Carmine and Soren to at least be here, but they aren’t. Fuckers. Getting out of things while I have to suffer.
I don’t blame them really. They genuinely care for each other, and they get to be free. At least, more so than I do.
“Alessio, come have a drink with me,” Eivor insists.
I look to Rosalie who nods. “I’ll be changing into something more comfortable, go ahead.”
As if I needed her permission. I was only looking to her to see what she planned on doing.
Eivor is the last person I want to have a drink with, but alcohol is alcohol, so while Rosalie heads upstairs, I head to the small bar in the parlor room with the older man who rubs me wrong in ever sense of the word.
“Scotch, whiskey, bourbon?” he asks me.
“If I could have all three, I would,” I reply grimly.
Eivor either doesn’t understand how serious I am or he doesn’t care because he laughs and grabs the bottle of bourbon, pouring us both a triple.
“You look like you can hold your liquor,” he comments.
I take a heavy drink while not breaking eye contact with him. He takes one as well, but looks to the side behind my shoulder.
“What is this about?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” He raises a brow.
I narrow my eyes, take another drink, and feel the burn down my throat. My glass is already almost done. “Asking for a drink with me. I know that I’m only here because you need an in for our family,” I tell him matter-of-factly.
Eivor’s face falls. “You’re to marry my niece. Who I raised like a daughter. I’d like to get to know you better,” he says in a low and displeased tone. “If you can’t behave properly, perhaps you shouldn’t be drinking.”
I scoff and down the rest of my drink right now and here. I lick my lips and grab the bottle of scotch, pouring myself another heavy glass before I set it down with a clunk.
“I can handle my liquor, remember?” I say with a chuckle and then turn away from him.
I feel the buzz already setting in, but it’s not enough. I need more to get myself through this night. So, I drink half of my new glass in one gulp.
It’s not going to be my last one.
Not a chance.
4
Chapter Four
Damian
Ten-forty-six at night.
It’s the after-party for the engagement gala, and I stand in the corner watching as Rosalie goes upstairs to change her clothing, and Alessio talks to Eivor. I cannot imagine it’s anything good. I know the man wants me to siphon as much information about the second eldest Dresvanni as I can, and frankly he’s not helping by irritating him.
