Then I got down on one knee.
I spoke in Italian to her. I told her she was as beautiful as the sea, that I would never really be able to have her like I wanted because who could bottle the beauty of the ocean.
She wouldn’t understand, nor would anyone else.
I opened the box and in dark velvet sat her ring. At the center sat a princess cut diamond but the surrounding stones were crystals. “Rose quartz, howlite, and some other stuff I’m not sure of at this point, ragazza. Same as your crystals and beads.”
I told myself I went through the trouble so that she’d be comfortable wearing it for the remaining months.
The smile she’d pasted on her face dropped away. “My bracelets, Bastian?” she whispered. Then a lone tear fell from her eye. Then the real smile, the one I really wanted shone across her face.
That was the real reason for those crystals in that ring, you dumbass.
I took the jewelry and slid it on her left ring finger.
The crowd clapped. The cameras went off. The news was made.
Our arrangement had officially begun.
She gripped my hand, hers so small in mine as I thanked everyone who congratulated us and steered us toward where our coats were checked.
“Your date gone for the night?” I asked her, knowing I’d sent Elizabeth home.
She nodded, apparently not willing to engage in any sort of conversation with me. She was probably shocked with the night’s events. Or embarrassed.
And I knew that was on me. I should have been embarrassed too for fucking her in the library of someone else’s home. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to find much remorse in it.
We drove home, silent for the first half of the ride. She turned that engagement ring on her finger over and over again.
“Thank you for the crystals,” she murmured finally.
I nodded. “I figured you’d need them in times like this when you decide not to wear your bracelets.”
Her hands folded into her lap. “I’ll get you a ring too.”
“Not necessary.” I tapped my gold ring on the window, the one that held such weight and responsibility. “I have this one. It’s just fine.”
“That’s not a wedding ring.”
“It’s for my family. It’s what I’m truly dedicated to.”
“Well, you’re dedicated to seeing this marriage through for a few more months to get these shares, aren’t you? It means you can wear a wedding band from me.”
She wanted to give me back something that I didn’t need. I didn’t even want it. “I don’t need a reminder, Morina.”
“A wedding band isn’t a reminder. It’s a symbol of trust or something. We need that. We need something after what just happened tonight.”
“And what just happened?” I eyed her in the dark of our SUV.
Goosebumps popped up on her arms. “You fucked me in public like you owned me, Bastian! The night was a shit show. You don’t even want to fuck me. You were the one that put the brakes on it in the first place.”
I hmphed and kept tapping on the window. “Your friend knew we were involved.”
“So what?”
“So he shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“The whole point of going with other people was for us screw them discreetly before we were engaged and release our sexual tension.” She slapped the leather of her seat.
“I don’t think that’s an option for me when I see you with other men who know you belong to me.”
She screamed in frustration, balling up her fists. “You wouldn’t even kiss me a few days ago!”
I nodded, knowing I sounded insane. “I still don’t think we should. It’s fucked up that you’re in my head this much, that I’m around you and can’t seem to feel, smell, imagine anyone else, Morina. Do you know I considered checking my horoscope today?”
“You’re insane,” she grumbled. “I can’t talk to you right now. You’re so fucking insane. I just want to go to sleep.”
“Great.”
I did too. I wanted to wake up tomorrow and screw my head on straight because tonight I was losing my mind.
28
Morina
“We get married tomorrow.” He threw his suit jacket on a hook and loosened his tie as we walked into the penthouse. His voice made me jump, we’d been silent for so long.
He moved quickly, slipping his shoes off and not making eye contact with me at all.
“Bastian?” When he didn’t look my way and started down the hall to his room, I yelled, “Bastian, what the hell?”
“What the hell?” He whirled around, molten hot rage brewing in his gaze, singeing me as he approached. He got right up to my face and he grabbed my hair at the nape of my neck. “I said, we get married tomorrow. You and me. My fiancée. Tomorrow, you’ll be my wife. Do you understand?”
I searched his eyes. “You have the audacity to be like this? Mad and all pissy?”
His jaw ticked.
“You have the audacity when you had that woman on your arm whispering things to you all night. You laughed at her jokes. You nestled into her neck. I saw you. And you even said she knew what she was doing before you fucked me.” I poked his shoulder as the grip in my hair got tighter and tighter.
“None of that matters, ragazza. We marry tomorrow and that means you’re not spreading your legs for anyone after that.”
We both stood there breathing fast, stewing, our furious gazes locked on one another. If I’d lit a candle, it would have been blown out by our anger and jealousy flying through the room.
“All about what you own, huh? Am I your property now?” I didn’t give him time to answer. “Fuck you, Sebastian Armanelli.”
With that, I smacked his hand away from my hair and stormed past him into my bedroom. I slammed the door and screamed.
He didn’t come after me like I thought he might. I heard his door close not long after.
Good.
He could rot on his side of the penthouse for all I cared.
Except, all night, I felt like I was wasting away. My mind ran through every scenario and then stumbled upon the most pressing one.
I was getting married tomorrow to a man I didn’t love without friends, family, a dress, or even shoes.
Quick decisions would have to be made.
“Right about that, Grandma.”
I probably drifted to sleep, trying to conjure up a way for her to be haunting me in my bedroom so I could throw something at her but none of it happened. She didn't even come to me in a dream.
I woke and read my horoscope, the Sagittarius in me ready to be stubborn and vengeful toward Bastian for dropping our wedding date on me without even a night of planning. I knew we would be going to the courthouse but I pulled a white baggy t-shirt from a drawer and slipped it on over a bikini. I looked like I was going to the beach, not going to get married.
When I walked down the hallway, he had breakfast on the island for me. Those stupidly good crepes sat there folded perfectly covered in a delicate sprinkling of powdered sugar.
He washed dishes, suit on, completely ready for the madness we were about to go through with.
When he turned and scanned me, I was ready for the fight. Sebastian Armanelli was going to come out of his shell and tell me to go change.