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I know there are families with overprotective fathers and brothers, but not to the extent her father and brother took it. They had done surveillance on her in Italy and beat the men who approached her without her knowledge. Her self-esteem tanked from continuously getting dumped or ghosted. I shiver as I imagine who she would have been marrying now if they’d kept her under their thumb in the name of protecting her.
I turn to Alessia and Michael, who are wrapped up in each other, and a smile forms on my face. I’m glad he has saved her… although he hadn’t been able to escape being pummeled by his best friend too. Finally, understanding the source of her previous fear, I’m glad she can now move forward with her life, happy and secure in her relationship.
Yeah… I shouldn’t waste my time thinking about that asshole.
With one last glance at Enzo, I decide to let go of my thoughts about him. I let my friends pull me to the dance floor to join Alessia and Michael. Michael’s brother, Thale, is also dancing with his wife, Ivanna. The sight makes me smile. Although settling down is not a thought that has crossed my mind, I’m happy to see people I care about, both old and new friends, in healthy relationships.
“So, who’s up for a trip to the bar now?” I ask, raising my hands and doing a little dance as my friends cheer with excitement.
“Pretty sure that’ll be all of us,” Jenna says excitedly. “I can’t wait to get completely plastered.”
“Me too,” Louise concurs with a giggle. Then she gives me a devilish smile. “But remember, Kelly, no getting drunk.”
I roll my eyes at the group as they stare at me with mixed looks of sympathy and amusement. It’s no fun being the only sober one.
I pout, but let out a sigh. “Fine, I won’t get drunk.”
2
Enzo
Fuck... They really seem happy.
I watch my sister dancing with my best friend, her husband, and I feel shitty knowing I almost ruined it. Everyone is on the dance floor enjoying the wedding reception, but I'm plastered against the wall next to the balcony of the great hall, a lit cigarette in my mouth.
I couldn't give my speech during the wedding. Alessia and Michael wanted me to, being someone important in both of their lives... but I couldn't do it. How was I supposed to get up there and tell everyone I was the villain in their love story?
Fuck...
I take one last deep drag from the cigarette before squashing the butt on the ashtray next to me. I push the ashtray further in on the ornament table until it clinks against the vase of deep red roses, making sure it doesn't fall.
I exhale the smoke through my nose, watching it draw cloudy figures before disappearing. I didn't mean to be the villain for Alessia and Michael. I was just... trying to protect my sister. I cringe as I remember how she screamed at me and Dad. That had to be years’ worth of hurt and frustration.
I didn't think I was mean.
I frown. I've had girlfriends tell me I was crazy and controlling, but I never paid them any attention. Shit, I was just taking care of them too...What am I supposed to do? When I care about someone... or at least consider them mine, I see it as my responsibility to... you know, protect them. I made a vow to never fail at safeguarding someone important after what happened to Mom.
I only made a mistake in Michael's case because I was shocked and angry.
I still don't think I did anything wrong with those other guys over the years. I straighten my jacket and fan at myself a bit, so the smell of the smoke isn't too potent.
They were all assholes anyway. Michael's the only worthy guy. It's not like he slept around for fun like the others.
I give one more glance at the dance floor as I prepare to escape to the balcony, but then I freeze.
Oh... there she is...
I see her dancing with her friends, her hands up above her blonde head, her green eyes shining with laughter. Her shimmery rose-gold dress catches the light with every sway of her wide hips, and I feel my groin stir. I look away immediately.
Nope. You're a dog, Lorenzo, but getting hard at your sister's wedding would be a new low.
I look back once I've contained myself. She's leaning into her group of friends with an eager grin. They exchange a few words I can't hear before turning toward the bar.
I smirk. When I first saw Alessa's friends, my first thought was they were all hot. And they are. The tallest one, Alessia says is already married, so I probably shouldn't be speaking on another man's wife, but damn... those legs go on forever in her short, armless tulle dress, and her dark hair styled up in the sleekest, most controlled bun I've ever seen.
I still remember her cold gray gaze. She's obviously French, and I can't tell what else is responsible for the nice, tan tone of her skin. Probably Greek or something. Then there's the short, mousy one who greeted me with a nod. Her hazel eyes held dislike, but in her quiet gaze, I figured was the strongest emotion she could convey. Her hair is straight and brown, in a long bob.
She looks like she's used to following along with her friends for the ride, instigating nothing. She's hot too... usually would be my type. Seems like the type who would listen well and do what I tell her. The one who gave a sarcastic smile was a blue-eyed hottie with copper hair pulled up in a ponytail. She's of medium height and seems to have a balance between crazy and reserved. She's a redhead, so I'm counting on crazy for sure.
