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I spend the rest of the day getting ready to head downstairs for dinner. Eleanora helps me with my makeup, hair and outfit, making sure I look as polished as I possibly can. I put on a scarlet red dress with a corset bodice and even spray some expensive perfume on my wrists and the back of my neck.
Following Eleanora downstairs, I feel my heart hammering in my chest. This is really happening. I'm about to sit down as part of their family. Is this Adrian's way of telling me he's ready for the next step? Does he still want me after everything that's happened? A small ray of hope awakens inside me, shining brightly through the darkness of the past few weeks.
Maybe things will change... maybe happiness will finally come for me.
I enter the dining room where several men are already sitting. Some of them glance at me. One smirks.
Bruno just keeps talking as I walk to a chair and take a seat. I don't dare speak. I'm not even brave enough to look at the men who decide my fate alongside Adrian.
"Good to see you've joined us, Marzia," Bruno says.
I risk a look at him, giving a small bow. "Thank you. I was happy to be invited."
"Ah, there's Adrian now."
I look over my shoulder, my chest tightening as I see him walk inside. He looks as handsome and darkly menacing as ever.
Behind him, there's someone who seems to burn so brightly, she lights up the room. The girl is blonde with blue eyes. Her skin is pale and she's impossibly beautiful, like a doll.
My lips purse as she steps forward and takes Adrian's hand in hers. I get up, my hands forming fists as I search Adrian's face for answers.
"Meet Nicoletta Carlucci," Bruno grunts. "Adrian's bride-to-be."
My blood fucking boils. I stare at the girl who beams at my man with excitement. My heart is hammering in my chest, threatening to break through my ribcage and shatter before them all. I take a seat abruptly.
A moment later, Nicoletta sits to my right.
I can't even comprehend what's happened. I glare at Bruno across the table but he merely smiles at me as if this is nothing to be concerned about. I have so many questions, but not enough courage to ask a single one. Instead, I stare blankly at the appetizer someone puts on the table in front of me.
I waited so long for this. I wanted to dine with Adrian, with someone, anyone. I was so desperate for company. But now that I have it, I'm caught in a whirlwind of despair and regret.
Adrian is engaged to be married to someone else.
The truth is hard to swallow and I still haven't accepted it. I pick at my food, barely listening to the men's conversation around me. A moment later, someone nudges me, and I look into Nicoletta's sweet, bright blue eyes. Dio, how I hate her.
"Are you engaged to one of the Bernardi brothers?" she asks in a low whisper. "Are we going to be sisters-in-law?"
I shake my head wordlessly.
She cocks hers to the side. "Who are you then? A relative?"
I don't know how to answer her. I open my mouth to speak.
Bruno calls Nicoletta's name the next moment and the pretty blonde's attention shifts to the older man.
I stare dumbfoundedly at my plate, not knowing what to do, how to act, what to say. I'm lost in a vortex of thoughts that makes it impossible to focus. Until I feel fingers on my wrist.
Adrian has reached behind Nicoletta's chair to wrap his fingers around my wrist.
It doesn't hurt—the pressure is a pleasant constant, but I'm so afraid someone will notice I'm too terrified to react.
"Let's raise our glasses," Bruno speaks then.
I realize I've tuned out the entire conversation.
"Let's toast to my son and Nicoletta, and their engagement. Here's to a successful marriage and plenty of heirs!"
The table erupts in laughter.
I'm frozen to the spot.
Adrian's hand slips from mine, as he toasts with everyone else, not even looking at me.
"Marzia, aren't you going to celebrate with us?" Adrian's bride-to-be asks sweetly.
I force myself to get up, paint a smile on my face, and toast with the champagne flute on the table before me. When I sit down, I feel numb. I know I'm going to be sick if I keep sitting here. When they put the next course on the table before us, I push back my chair and press my palm to my lips.
"I have to go to my room," I mutter. "I'm sorry. I don't feel so good."
I take off running. No one gets up to follow me, but I hear a guard following me discreetly a moment later, letting me know there won't be a chance for another escape.
I walk up to my room, slowing my pace and letting my emotions wash over me. I feel utterly humiliated. To be in the same room as her, after Adrian had made love—it was degrading as fuck. Shame burns my cheeks into bright red spots as I slam the door of my quarters to relieve some of the tension.
