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His touch sends shivers down my spine, and I find myself leaning into him as the rhythm carries us away.
For a brief moment, I forget about my fears, losing myself in the feel of his body pressed against mine.
"See? This isn't so bad, is it?" Felix whispers teasingly into my ear.
I laugh softly, feeling a flutter in my stomach as his warm breath tickles my skin.
"Not so bad at all," I admit, my heart swelling with affection for this man who tries hard to understand and protect me, even without knowing my secrets.
Just as I begin to relax, a voice cuts through the music and laughter around us: "Rosalie?"
My entire body goes rigid at the sound of my real name, and Felix's grip on me tightens in response.
He looks down at me, concern furrowing his brow as he watches my reaction closely.
"Is that someone you know?" he asks quietly, his voice low and cautious.
Panic rises in my chest, and I struggle to steady my breathing.
"No," I lie, forcing a shaky smile onto my lips. "I have no idea what he’s on."
Felix's gaze lingers on my face, searching for any hint of deception.
But before he can ask more questions, the stranger walks towards us, clearly intrigued.
The man squints at me; his words are clear as day.
He repeats my name again, only louder this time.
"Rosalie, it's really you! Remember me? Your father and I used to play bridge together."
"Excuse me, but you must be mistaken," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "My name is Emily."
"Emily?" The man frowns, his confusion evident.
He steps closer to me, and I step back. "But you look just like—"
"Come on, let's go," Felix interrupts suddenly, realizing I’m feeling uncomfortable and steering me away from the stranger I’m faintly beginning to recognize from my teenage years and towards the party's exit.
As we leave the floor, I can't help but notice the strange looks that follow us, and my heart pounds with a mix of fear and relief.
Once we’re off the dance floor, Felix's grip on my waist tightens as he studies my face, searching for answers.
"Who's Rosalie?" he asks, his voice barely audible over the pulsating music.
"Rosalie?" I feign ignorance, hoping he'll buy it.
"I don't know.”
"Really?" His gaze narrows, and I can tell he doesn't believe me.
"You seemed pretty rattled when that guy called you by that name."
"Can you blame me?" I force a laugh, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Being mistaken for someone else at a mafia party is unsettling, to say the least."
"True," he concedes, but the curiosity still lingers in his eyes.
