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My heart races as I feel all eyes in the vicinity turn towards us. For a moment, I worry that I've gone too far, but just then, the man reaches forward with a napkin, trying to help me clean, only to tumble over the table next to me, drop more drinks on me, and this time, on himself too.
Good. Now, there’s no doubt that he’s the one who called for it.
"Go, Papà," I instruct him, maintaining my glare at the drunk man. "I've got their attention."
"Please, let me help you," the man stammers, reaching out with unsteady hands to wipe the remnants of the drink from my ruined dress.
"Don’t touch me," I snap, stepping back and raising my voice just enough to keep the crowd focused on our little spectacle. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man in a tailcoat walking towards me.
"Look what you've done!" I accuse the drunk man, gesturing dramatically to my stained gown. The crowd has grown larger now, their eyes flicking between us with amused curiosity. A few of the guards have even abandoned their posts, checking on the commotion.
"Will this pay for your dress?" The man fumbles with his wallet, brandishing a wad of cash in a desperate attempt to make amends.
"Get that away from me," I growl, feigning disgust and pushing his hand aside. My pulse quickens as I watch the last of the guards peel away from their positions, following in their boss’s path.
I’ve got all eyes on me and away from my father. This is our shot!
Chapter 16
Fiero Cremaschi
"Look where you’re going!"
The music and conversations fade into the background as I catch a loud, angry voice that’s surprisingly soft and tinged, hoarse around the edges that it sends shivers down my spine.
"Can you even walk straight?" she continues, indignant.
Heads begin to turn. I, too, sweep my gaze around the room, trying to identify which woman it belongs to. I follow the general direction in which everyone seems to be looking, and my gaze lands upon a hypnotic woman in a stunning black and gold jumpsuit, her face obscured by a delicate mask.
Just then, a man with his back to me picks up some napkins and attempts to help her get rid of the stain. She takes a step back from him, and he leans forward clumsily, losing his balance and bringing the whole cocktail table next to him to the floor.
I frown and begin to walk towards this woman, wanting to aid her as she gasps in shock and tells him not to touch her.
As I move closer, I can't help but notice her enchanting figure: trim and slim, reminiscent of an old-school actress. Yet, despite her thin bones and long legs, her curves are magnificent, the kind to belong on a magazine cover.
Her hair is tied back in a chignon, with soft brown strands framing her face like passion flower tendrils. Every step I take toward her feels charged with electricity, drawing me deeper into her magnetic aura.
As I inch closer, her eyes flick over me, and I almost stop in my tracks. They’re captivating, so gray and delicate, that it looks like there’s wind causing a storm right in her eyes. When she looks in my direction, I am reminded of a cat in the night forest, hunting, hiding, waging war.
Just then, the man fumbles and tries to throw some cash her way, attempting to pay for the damage he caused. I watch her expression turn from mild anger to something darker at his insult. She flicks his hand away and steps back.
I motion my men to follow me. With quick strides, I reach her side and observe as her delicate hands clutch the fabric of her exquisite outfit, drawing my attention to the dark stain spreading across its intricate pattern of gold.
Rage rises in me at the affront to this mysterious beauty. I know the imbecile, a minor noble I have little liking for, the disdain I feel for him intensifying. How dare he disrupt my party and distress a female guest!
I place myself between them and turn to face her. "Scusa, allow me to introduce myself," I say, my voice steady despite the fury boiling beneath the surface on her behalf. "I'm Fiero. Fiero Cremaschi, the host of this event.”
She flutters her eyebrows, clearly flustered and looks up at me slowly. The wind almost knocks the wind out of my lungs as time stands still. Those eyes…
Who is this mysterious creature? And what is she doing here, at my party?
"Romola," she responds with a small smile, her eyes never leaving mine. It's as if we're locked in a dance, our gazes entwined like the notes of a haunting melody. I extend my hand, and she takes it briefly before pulling away. The fleeting touch leaves a lingering warmth on my skin, igniting a desire for more.
"I know who you are," she continues, her voice soft yet strong, betraying no fear of my reputation. It seems she is well aware of the power I wield within these walls. But why can’t I place her? I’m certain I’ve not met this woman before. I would have never forgotten those eyes.
“I apologize for my guest’s unbecoming manner,” I say, now turning toward Gustav, the blockhead.
“I… Mr. Cremaschi. I just,” he blabbers.
