With a mischievous wink, he’s off me, my hand once more in the crook of his arm as he leads me towards the crowd.
I expel a harsh breath, realizing I just passed a test.
And as I sneak a glance at his profile—at that jawline that seems to have been chiseled in ice—it’s to admit to myself that while the people in this room are beautiful, there’s no one quite like him.
No one who turns my insides into mush.
Cisco and Yuyu are already deep in conversation with some unknown people, and just as we reach a more populated area, the live orchestra my brother had hired starts playing what I recognize to be Tchaikovsky’s fifth symphony.
‘Raf? Is that you?’ A sweet voice calls, and as we turn around, it’s to come face to face with a couple. Black hair, pale face, and startling green eyes, hers is the type of beauty that would have anyone staring. The man next to her gives Raf a tight smile, his expression reserved. Still, with his stature and tanned looks he’s not any less attractive than the woman next to him.
My hand instinctively tightens over Raf’s at the familiarity I detect in the woman’s voice, a flare of jealousy spiking inside of me
‘God, I haven’t seen you in so long.’ Her eyes widen as she peruses him. ‘And look at how you’ve changed.’
A tight smile appears on Raf’s face.
‘Catalina,’ he nods his head at the woman, ‘Marcello,’ he greets her companion. ‘This is my wife, Noelle,’ he makes the introduction, and my discomfort is momentarily appeased.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ I respond as I extend my hand for a shake.
‘Wife? You’re married,’ Catalina blinks in surprise.
‘Yes. It’s a rather recent development.’
‘My, but I’m so happy for you. After what happened with Sisi,’ she purses her lips, and alarms go off in my head as I hear another woman’s name. ‘And then your disappearance. I was worried about you.
‘As you can see, I’m doing fine.’ He nods before proceeding to discuss some business arrangements with Marcello.
‘I never realized Michele could be so cunning,’ Marcello states.
‘No one did. He made sure he was seen as the prodigal son. And because of that, look what happened,’ Raf adds in a strained tone. ‘But not for long. Cisco and I are working on it.’
‘If you need any help,’ Marcello pauses, patting him on the back, ‘you need only to ask. You know we see you as family,’ he mentions stoically.
‘Thank you.’
I keep to Raf’s side as we go from person to person, all indicating their astonishment at his appearance.
It’s only when we get a brief reprise that he explains why everyone would be so shocked.
‘I used to play a role before. What they saw…was what I wanted them to see,’ he states going in depth about how he’d portrayed himself as mentally weak so that people would overlook him.
I listen intently to his words, lifting my eyes to meet his.
‘Does that mean you’re playing a role now?’ I ask on a whisper, afraid of the potential answer.
‘Does it?’ A wolfish grin appears on his face. ‘Maybe,’ he chuckles. ‘We’re all playing a role, aren’t we? Sometimes, behind a lie you’ll find the truth. Oscar Wilde once said give a man a mask and he’ll tell you exactly who he is,’ he muses wistfully.
I narrow my eyes at him.
‘Then who are you, Rafaelo Guerra? Who are you, really?’ The question tumbles out of my mouth before I can help myself. He’s shown me so many different facets of himself—vicious cruelty and the sweetest compassion. Yet there’s so much more to him than meets the eye, so much more he’s keeping locked tight within himself.
‘A man. I’m just a man, pretty girl.’ His words hold a certain sadness to them. ‘A flesh and blood man with wants and desires.’ He takes my hand, placing it on his chest, right over his heart. ‘A man with happiness and sorrows, grudges and regrets…’ he trails off. ‘I’m just a man—just an imperfect man.’
His eyes bore into mine, the electricity of his stare making the hairs on my body stand up.
‘It’s just as well that I’m not perfect myself.’ The corners of my lips tug up. What I don’t say, though, is what he’d find behind my mask. That is a Pandora box I never want opened. If I’m stuck in this role forever, then so be it—anything but the alternative.
He gives me one of his dazzling smiles and heading to a refreshment table, he offers me a small glass of champagne. Since he’s driving, he can’t drink any.
‘I heard you have a penchant for alcohol,’ he adds mischievously.
‘Another thing my brother told you, of course,’ I roll my eyes at him. ‘It happened once. I only had a few glasses, but I didn’t realize my tolerance was so low,’ I shrug.
‘You’re a tiny little thing, Noelle,’ his eyes rake over my body with pleasure, ‘of course you wouldn’t have a great tolerance.’
‘Are you calling me weak?’ I raise a brow.
‘No, I’m calling you dainty.’ He says as he steps closer, one hand in my hair as he twirls a strand of my hair around. ‘And I happen to like dainty,’ he whispers in my ear in a smoky voice.
Just as the words are out of his mouth, he’s off me, straightening his back and looking entirely unbothered. As if he didn’t just cause my heart to jump in my chest, or make me feel hot and tingly…
There’s a knowing smirk on his lips, and as I narrow my eyes at him I realize that was his purpose all along. He likes to toy with me knowing that I am attracted to him.
As I’m about to call him out on it, another voice resounds in the room.
‘Raf!’ Someone calls out, and before I know it, a woman jumps on Raf, her arms around his neck as she gives him a big hug. ‘I can’t believe it’s you. Good Lord, but haven’t you heard of phones? I’ve been worried sick about you,’ she chastises him.
It’s only when she leans a little back that I get a glimpse of her features.
She’s…stunning.
Light blonde hair paired with a tanned complexion, she also has the lightest brown irises I’ve ever seen. A pink-reddish mark on her forehead only serves to complement the rest of her features. Her eyes are slanted, giving her a cat-like look that is enhanced by her heart-shaped face and chiseled jaw.
My hands ball into fists at the display, especially as I note the hidden intimacy between them.
‘Sisi, wow,’ Raf says, looking at her with affection in his eyes.
Sisi. That name…
‘I’m sorry about that. But maybe we can catch up soon?’ He asks on a hopeful tone.
Already, my mind is going into overdrive trying to decipher their interaction and what they are to each other. More so since I’m promptly forgotten as he directs his entire attention towards her.
Who is she? And what is she to him?
But one moment she’s in his arms, the next she’s in the air as another man shows up, easily lifting her up and depositing her in his arms.
‘I believe five seconds of skinship is more than enough, hell girl. I’m going to cash in on that later,’ he says cryptically as he looks down at her.
‘You’re such a spoilsport,’ she mumbles, looking put out with him one moment before a wide smile overtakes her face as she puckers her lips to give him a loud smooch. ‘But that’s why I love you.’
In the ballroom.
In front of everyone.
But they don’t seem to care. Especially since she seems right at home in his arms and doesn’t seem inclined to step down. In fact, she wounds her arms around his neck, making herself even more comfortable.
‘You must be Vlad,’ Raf mentions, extending his hand.
‘And you must be Jesus Christ because he’s the only one who wouldn’t stay dead,’ Vlad states deadpan.
‘Vlad!’ Sisi exclaims, quite scandalized.
‘What?’ His brows lift up in feigned innocence. ‘Although three days was three years for you.’ His mouth curls up as he turns to Sisi. ‘See, they don’t make them quite like before. It must be the food.’
‘Vlad. Cut it out,’ she gives him a look before turning to us. ‘Don’t listen to him. We’re really happy you’re back.’
‘And you’re not missing a leg? An arm?’ Vlad says as he surveys Raf. ‘Pity,’ he shrugs.
‘I’ve heard all about you,’ Raf comments, not mad at all about Vlad’s comment. ‘Sisi’s told me all about you.’
‘Good things I should hope. Right, hell girl? You wouldn’t bad mouth me, would you?’
‘Of course it wasn’t good things, you dolt. You left me,’ she pokes him in the shoulder. ‘And I was sad,’ she sighs.
‘And obviously not in your right mind since you got engaged to him,’ Vlad pouts as he motions towards Raf.
‘I thought we moved past that, Vlad. I’m married to you in case you’ve forgotten,’ Sisi shakes her head at him.
Engaged? They were engaged?
I stop listening as I try to digest the words. There’s more sparring between Vlad and Sisi before he whisks her away, with Sisi saying something about reeducation, whatever that means.
But I barely register that. Not when I just found out that he’s been engaged before. And he didn’t even introduce me to them.
My eyes widen at that particular realization.
Hell… Is he… Did he have feelings for her? He must have at some point if he was engaged with her. Does he still?
My heart stills in my chest at that thought and no matter how much I try to ground myself, I can’t.
Isn’t it enough that I have to compete with a ghost? Now there’s another living, breathing, stunning woman I have to measure myself up against?
How is that fair?
The more I ruminate about it, the more I realize that nothing is fair. I should have realized that someone like Raf would have his choice of women. Someone with his looks and personality would have a myriad of exes. Just because I only knew about Lucero doesn’t mean she was the only one.
And that means…
My head whips up as I take him in. Impressive height. Outstanding looks. Quick wit and tenacity that are only complemented by his remarkable strength. There’s simply nothing average about him.
He’s currently engaged in conversation with another couple, cracking jokes about the current political climate and discussing business strategies.
That’s when I see it.
He’s everything I’m not.
Likable. Sociable. Outgoing.
He attracts people’s attention wherever he goes. Tonight is proof enough as everyone is drawn to him like a magnet.
And then there’s me.
Crazy. Unstable. Defective…
Suddenly, all the dreams and scenarios I’d cooked up in my head return with tremendous force and hit me right in the chest as everything turns to disappointment.
Why did I let myself believe I had a chance with him? That he might like me? Why, when from the beginning our marriage has been nothing but a business venture and an opportunity for him to take revenge for something he thought I’d done.
Remove either from the equation and…there’s nothing left.
I down my glass of champagne before setting it down, quickly moving to another. And another. It’s only when I finish the third one that the bubbles have finally gone to my head, a levity unlike any other making its home in my mind.
The orchestra starts playing a waltz, and I turn my gaze to the middle of the ballroom where some couples have already taken the floor, swirling around to the music.
I, too, tap my foot to the rhythm, and once more my mind betrays me as I imagine what it would be like for Raf to swoop me in his arms, move with me to the sound of the music…
A disappointed sigh escapes me as I continue to watch the dance dejectedly.
‘A dance?’ A stranger’s voice filters through my mind, and gazing to the left, it’s to see an unknown man extending his hand towards me in a polite gesture.
I still, not knowing what to do.
I’d like nothing more than to dance, too, but I don’t know if it’s the proper etiquette to accept the invitation of someone I haven’t been introduced to.
Turning to ask Raf for permission, it’s to see he’s not even by my side anymore. A few feet away, he’s once more talking with Sisi and her husband, their expressions serious as they seem to debate something important.
I don’t know if it’s the fact that he’s talking with her specifically that has me take the man’s hand. I don’t know if it’s the fact that he so clearly forgot about me. Or maybe, it’s the fact that he purposefully wanted to forget about me.
I only know that I shouldn’t have trusted him in the first place.
‘Thank you,’ I give the man a tight smile as I allow him to draw me closer, his arm on my back as he leads me into the waltz.
‘What’s your name?’ He asks me, and as I gaze up, I study his features for the first time.
Black hair and blue eyes, he’s not bad looking.
But it’s not one particular pair of blue eyes that’s looking back at me. And that makes my heart tug painfully in my chest.
I will myself to enjoy the music and the dance, but I find that it’s a paltry imitation for the dance that I do want.
Just as I’m about to reply to his question, though, another voice speaks for me.
‘Her name is move before I blow your brains.’
