Chapter 40: 40
I stood dumbfounded, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Hickeys adorned my skin like a scandalous map, and even the shirt I wore protested my attempt to appear decent.
"Nix, how about I wait here while you get me a new pair of clothes? I seriously can’t go out like this," I said, turning to find him watching me intently.
"Why?" he threw the question so casually staring at ne
Did he really just question why I couldn’t go out like this when the facts were glaringly obvious?
"Take a look at my body..."
"You look beautiful," he interjected with a playful smile.
"I have no panties on."
"You tore my underwear," I added, exasperated.
"We’ll get another pair," he said with an innocent look that made me want to scoff. "Dont you ever take off your leg chain again," he added, his eyes lingering on my ankle.
I looked up at him, wanting to question his obsession with me wearing the leg chain, only to see him show me his hand adorned with the same chain he wore the day he gave me mine.
"It’s proof that we’re a couple," he said.
"Couple?" I echoed in a small, questioning voice, the word sounding foreign coming from him. He nodded.
"We’ve been one since I clasped it around your ankle. I even had it customized," he pouted, making me chuckle.
Was this the same Nix I knew? I turned back to the mirror, sighing. No matter how many of his T-shirts I wore, there was no way to hide these hickeys. Not that I really wanted to. After all, I was going to become Mrs Dean..and I need to let a lot of people who talked shit about me know their place.
"Shall we?" he inquired, holding out his hand.
I nodded, taking his hand and feeling a flutter of excitement...
The motorbike came to an abrupt halt in front of the same hotel where I’d confronted Nix about my payment. The sudden stop made me wonder if there was a shopping mall or maybe a supermarket inside.
"Mr. Dean!" Someone called out, hurrying towards his side as I took off my helmet. I watched as he nodded to whatever the person said before flipping through the documents he was holding. With a simple nod, he handed my helmet to the man who approached us before leading the way inside the hotel.
"I thought we were going to the shopping mall?" I asked, hoping to mask my unease as i clenched onto my hand bag.
"Urgent issues came up. How about you wait for me in my room? After that, we’ll go shopping," he suggested with a gentle smile. I accepted, not wanting to obstruct his business.
He helped me into the elevator, and handed me his room card, which he sealed with a light peck on my forehead before stepping out. I sighed, seeing it as an opportunity to check my phone since I hadn’t been able to do so since last night. Just as I was about to unlock my phone, an incoming call from Editor Damian interrupted me.
"Hello," I answered, waiting for his response, only to be met by silence.
"Carmela, can we meet up?" His voice finally came through, filled with an odd urgency that made me uneasy.
"I’m not home at the.."
"I saw you getting into the elevator. Can you stop at the fifth floor?"
"Hmm," I nodded, pressing the button for the fifth floor.
"Okay, I’ll be right there," he said before hanging up. I let out another sigh, wondering why he wanted to meet so urgently. Could something have gone wrong with the manuscript I sent him? Whatever it was, I needed to find out. The bell sound of the elevator caught my attention as a lady in a fitted red dress stepped in.
She exuded an air of elegance, her accessories adorning her neck and fingers. Her wavy dark hair flowed freely, and I smiled, wondering how to capture her graceful presence in a piece of art. A sense of familiarity washed over me.
"You’re the new slut?" she spoke, making me look around, wondering who she was referring to.
"You think sleeping around with Nix will make him have feelings for you, but you’re wrong, darling. He’s already betrothed to me. I hope you know you’re just wasting your time," she scoffed, and I bit my lip, remembering where I’d seen her. It was the island, at the pool party she was the so-called betrothed of Mr. Dean.
I scoffed, watching her from behind. She was either clueless about who she was dealing with or foolish. I swiftly made my hair into a messy bun, undoing the first two buttons of my shirt. Silence is surely the best answer to a fool, but some fools need action. Sliding my hand into my purse, I brought out the ring box Nix had given me on my birthday and quickly slid the ring onto my finger.
"You must be the so-called betrothed my husband spoke of," I said firmly, feeling my aura change as I took a step closer to her, showcasing the ring by tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear. "I’ll permit you this time for using such foul language on me, but next time you do, you’ll be devastated by the outcome." I stated without flinching before making my way out of the elevator. I didn’t need to see her face to know she was beyond enraged.
Stepping out of the elevator with a victorious smirk, I was met by a panting Damian, his hands resting on his knees.
"Don’t tell me you used the stairs?" I raised an eyebrow, and he nodded. "Unbelievable."
The sights and smells of the restaurant suddenly made me acutely aware of my hunger.
"Do you want to place an order?" he asked as we settled into our seats. I politely declined.
"So, why did you want to meet with me?" I asked, noticing his eyes lingering on my ring finger. I quickly hid my hand under the table and let my hair down to cover the hickeys on my neck, not wanting to generate unnecessary questions.
"Ahem... that man you were with..what’s your relationship with him?" Damian’s voice broke the silence.
I met his gaze, raising a brow. "Why do you care?"
"Don’t get me wrong," he replied, his tone stern. "But he’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be involved with him."
"Really?" I leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, feigning indifference.
"Yes, Carmela. Cut off all ties with him," Damian warned, his voice cold and unyielding.
"Well, I appreciate your concern about me, Editor Damian, but I doubt you’re in a position to tell me what to do. Yes we do have a professional relationship, and I’d appreciate it if we kept it that way," I said, my tone serious and unwavering.
"Excuse me, sir, madame," a waiter approached us. "We are sorry for the inconvenience but we want you to evacuate the restaurant as the owner needs it for a private matter."
I stood up, seething with frustration. I couldn’t believe he actually made me rush here for such nonsense.
"Stay away from the man you were with earlier. He’s dangerous," I mimicked sarcastically, my voice dripping with disdain as I headed towards the washroom. Suddenly, bright red blood began to flow from both my nostrils. Concern and discomfort washed over me as I tilted my head forward and pinched the soft part of my nose shut. Grabbing a couple of tissues from the box, I tried to staunch the bleeding. My face turned pale, worry etched into my features as anxiety overwhelmed me. Despite the panic, I tried to remain calm and patient, waiting for the bleeding to subside.
"I don’t care if it’s the side effects of being drugged. I need medical attention," I muttered.
...
As I made my way towards the restaurant, curiosity gnawed at me. What kind of invitation had the manager mentioned? If it was from the old man, it could be both a good and a bad thing for reasons I couldn’t yet fathom.
"Mr. Dean, we’ve asked the guests to evacuate the restaurant," the manager informed me as I stepped out of the elevator. I nodded and glanced up to see Carmela storming out. She abruptly halted at one of the tables, grabbed a handful of tissues from a box, and then headed to the other exit.
"What is she doing here when I asked her to go to the room?" I muttered before making my way to the table where Mr. Ivano was seated.
"Young master," he greeted, standing and bowing respectfully. I waved at him, taking my seat. Mr. Ivano was my grandfather’s right-hand man and his advocate, so I had to tread carefully in conversation with him.
"Master Dean asked me to personally hand over this invitation to you, with hopes that you won’t reject it," he said, placing the invitation card before me. I picked it up, examining it closely before opening it to see the contents. I understood his concern; I had declined my grandfather’s invitations for the past six years.
"I’ll come," I said, keeping my expression blank. A smile spread across his face.
"Please do. And bring the young madame as well," he added, his smile reaching his ears. But it vanished quickly as his attention was drawn to something behind me.
I turned to see the Dalton family’s daughter struggling with the security personnel outside. I sighed.
"Let her in," I commanded and in the next second, she was at my table, fuming with anger.
"I’ll take my leave," Mr. Ivano said, bowing slightly. I nodded, watching him excuse himself.
"I said to solve your illicit relationship with her in the space of six months, but you got married to her?" she raised her voice. I raised an eyebrow, puzzled by her accusation.
"Don’t give me that look. She clearly showed off the ring..your mother’s ring that you gave her. It was supposed to be mine since I’m your betrothed," she continued. Realizing what she was referring to, a small smirk flickered across my face, but I quickly wiped it away.
I wasn’t sure what confrontation she had with Carmela, but I was confident Carmela had handled it well. As for the ring, since when did she start wearing it? I thought she had refused to wear it. Suspense and tension hung in the air, the weight of unspoken words and hidden intentions pressing down on us.
"Hubby!"