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Sergio texts almost an hour later to let me know that he’s outside of my complex. I grab my clutch and phone, throwing them both and a tube of red lipstick in my tote. When I’m in my living room and almost out of the front door, Ricky pops around the corner and stares at me with a questionable look.
“Going somewhere without me?”
You have no idea how badly that I wish you were coming with me.
I give him a sheepish smile in response.
“I have a uh...date tonight.” I hate that the thought of a date with Dante actually brings butterflies to my stomach.
He takes in my hair, makeup and large tote bag. I can tell he’s not buying it and it makes my face flush. He did the same thing when I tried to lie about my hair and shopping bags the other day. Saying that I was in need of a “lifestyle change” simply wasn’t enough, especially when the bags that I held in my hands at the time were designer. None of it makes sense to him because none of it makes sense to me. Dante has given me no guidance about how to describe his place in my life as well as the changes that have come with him. Once again, I’m left in the dark in regards to him, and it’s starting to really hinder my day to day life.
“With the club guy?”
You mean the devil himself?
“Yeah. He wants to go to some restaurant downtown.”
“So why is your hair and makeup done and you’re in jeans?”
Lie, Emmie. Lie well for once.
“I have some studying that I want to get a head start on before classes start up next week. I didn’t want to wear a dress to the library, so I figured that I would just change in the bathroom.” It’s almost a solid response, but his expression hasn’t changed. He nods his heads and tells me to have fun, stopping me again when I open the front door.
“I don’t know what's going on in your life, Emmie, but I don’t buy anything that you’ve been trying to sell me. Whatever the reason for your lying to me is, it must be big. Just know that I’m your teammate, you can always trust me. I thought this was something that we’ve understood since we were kids.”
My heart shatters into a million pieces. My best friend, my best fucking friend is staring at me with hurt eyes after catching me in multiple lies and still he loves me. This isn’t who I am and I’m beginning to hate myself because of it. Because of every fucking thing Dante has brought into my life.
“I love you, Ricky. I love you forever.” He nods at me in response, making himself a glass of water and turning his back to me.
“I love you too, babe. Always.”
I smile at him and close the door, wiping my fresh tears away as I walk towards Sergio’s car.
* * *
The car ride takes about an hour or so before we arrive at Dante’s large mansion, looking haunted as usual. However, rose bushes now line the walkway to his set of double doors. Sergio drove me in the car with blacked out windows again, not allowing me to see how we got here or where this place is even located. I just know that it’s a castle of broken dreams an hour away from campus.
Sergio grabs my tote from the back seat and hands it to me once we are walking towards the front door.
“Where’s my mom?” I ask.
“Cleaning in preparation for tonight. Dante has given strict instructions to go change and meet him in his office. There is no time for a family reunion tonight.”
I roll my eyes at him, and our distaste for one another is purely mutual at this point. I head up to my old room and close the door behind me. It looks just like how I left it, except the bed is made. I really do love this room. I love so many rooms in this house, actually. I would just love them a lot more if they weren’t owned by a man who manipulates every aspect of my life.
My dress and shoes are laying on the bed. I slide out of my clothes and admire my gown once it’s out of the bag. This dress is so beautiful that it continuously steals my breath away. I’ve never worn anything like this in my life, but I quickly fell in love with it once it hugged my body like a silk embrace. I set it down and looked at the shoes Marianne picked out for me at the store. They are strappy, nude heels and even though the heel is high, Marianne let me test them out to make sure that I could walk well in them.
I slide them on and walk to the closet for another test run in them. I look in the mirror and allow myself a second of admiration. The silk lingerie is nude and accentuates my curves, the heels making me look tall and elegant. I brought my red lipstick with me so I could put it on in the mirror. I line my lips until they look plump and check myself in the mirror. I feel sexy and I hate that at this moment, I wish Dante was here admiring me. I hate that I can’t own my sexuality without thinking of him immediately when I feel good.
Once I walk back into the bedroom, I grab my dress off the bed and then a knock sounds at the door. Dante enters in and shuts the door behind him. Our eyes lock and we are both caught in a trance. I want to take in his eyes right now, melt into the way they drift hot and lazily over my half naked form, but I am breathless at the way he looks tonight.
He is in a dark gray suit that hugs his muscular body, his pants taper at the end of his long, thick legs. His suit jacket is buttoned halfway up, the lapels making his chest look broader. He wears a black shirt underneath, the top four buttons or so are undone and give a full glimpse at his hanging medallion. A platinum watch adorns his wrist and his hair is slicked back, a few strands lying lazily on his forehead. And his smell, God his smell alone was enough to drive me wild.
He smells of rich cologne and cigars, a combination that I never thought would attract me, but it does more than that, it makes me drunk off him. His smell makes me want to crawl into him and live inside of him forever and I realize then that I more than desire this man. I realize this because at this moment, I actually missed him. In this moment, my stupid heart decides to win the battle over my mind and tell me that there is a large possibility that I am falling for this monster.
He walks towards me and his scent is so powerful that it clouds all of my senses like his body clouds my view of the door. He towers over me and dips his head, running his nose along my hair. He lifts my chin up with his finger and stares at my face for a long moment. I tell myself that I’m stupid, that I don’t know what love is. I tell myself that this is just the psychological beginning of Stockholm syndrome. I tell myself anything to give a reason for the way that I’m feeling for him, for the way that my heart plummets when he’s near or even in my thoughts, no matter how angry he makes me. No matter the damage that he’s caused in my life.
“Diosa.”Goddess.“You look exquisite, Emmie.”
