Guests filled the event hall tonight. Ecstatic classical music is being played by a live quartette, and I see many unknown faces. Some of those who have attended are our friends and even acquaintances of friends. I recognize a few even with masquerade masks on their faces. Family members I know back in Athens, Alayna’s siblings in Arianna’s care, her family, but I mainly observe the media. It is the press, journalists, and reporters all jammed in one place.
Alayna’s still in the dressing room with Casey, still preparing for the night’s program. I am wearing the matching suit for her evening gown tonight—a custom-made black and white suit with fabric that feels light as a feather.
“Brandon,” Oliver greets me with a shoulder pat. He wears a gold mask that covers his eyes and an Armani blue tux.
“Thanks, man.”
“Hey, I missed that mask.” He grins. I am wearing the same one.
Daphne stands next to him, holding a black sequined mask attached to a stick.
She extends a brief hug in a gesture of politeness and says, “Congratulations, Brandon.”
“Thank you, Daphne. Where are your parents?” I ask.
“They’re over there.” She points to the crowd on our right side. “I’m clinging to Oliver because that’s what they want—selling me in this stupid marriage,” she complains.
Ollie is right. She really is something else.
“You have two options. You can leave now, the door is open, or stay here and be quiet.” He snarls.
Daphne raises her eyebrow. “So you can flirt with Selena? No, thank you.”
Oliver shuts his eyes. I see impatience in his expression. They really do clash.
“This isn’t the right place to do this, Daphne,” Ollie fires back. “We’re not in the penthouse.”
She growls. “Ugh. Whatever.”
“All right, guys. Calm down,” I intervene. “We have cameras around us,” I remind. And I was right. She really breaks his peace. It’s a new sight from Oliver, but it needs serious attention.
He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, man.”
“Sorry, Brandon,” she apologizes.
“That’s okay. Have you seen grandfather?” I ask, looking around the area again, but I catch Cassius and his father, Uncle Aegeus.
“Oh, he’s not here yet, but he will be. He arrived in Seattle this afternoon. He’s still probably in the hotel,” Oliver says.
I nod, checking the time. It’s only a matter of minutes before the party starts.
A photographer approaches us. “Mr. Lucien, Mr. Katrakis. May I take a picture?”
I glance at his ID, and it has the brand of FOCUS on it—a variety magazine based in LA.
“No problem.” I slip my hands into my pocket and pose while Oliver and his fiancée step next to me. The photographer snaps two pictures, thanks us, and then leaves.
I look for Cary and Stan, but I haven’t found them yet either. I need to speak urgently about something with them. Meanwhile, I spot some distant cousins who have recently moved to the states. Astra and her brother Egor—their father is both a Stavros and Katrakis but married an American woman.
“Brandon!” Astra hugs me.
“Egor, Astra. Glad you two came.”
She pats my arm. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world! I see you’ve chosen an American too, huh?” She grins.
I grin back. “Why don’t you tell Egor that? I heard he’s met someone too.”
“Nah. She’s new.” Egor laughs. “Congratulations, Bran.”
We shake hands. “Thank you.”
Astra hugs me again and squeals. “I’m so excited for you! I can’t wait to see your bride! Where is she?”
“She’s with Casey. You’ll meet her soon.”
“Oh!” She clasps her mouth and looks at me dreamily. “I bet she’s beautiful,” she mumbles.
“Excuse, Mr. Lucien?” An event hall staff holding a radiophone abruptly cuts in.
“Yes?”
“She is ready, sir. Miss Hart shall wait for you backstage.”
“Thank you. I’ll be there.” I turn to Ollie and the rest and excuse myself. I rush to the backstage area, where I finally see the most beautiful woman I know ,next to my supportive sister and best friend.
I already see Alayna in the dress, but it still feels as though it’s the first time I’m seeing it. She let her hair fall on her shoulder, and her face is even more beautiful now with a light tint on her cheek and delectable mouth.
I can’t wait for the world to finally meet her.
“Brandon.” Casey smiles kindly at me. “You look very handsome.”
“Thank you, Casey.” I pull her against me. “For everything you did for us.”
I feel her rub my back. “Oh, come on. Let’s not cry. I’ll ruin my makeup.” She wipes her eyes with her fingers. “I have been waiting for this for so long, and now you two are finally here.” She releases me, then embraces her best friend. “Alayna, don’t cry too much, okay? You ruin your mascara.”
Alayna laughs. “I know. Love you, Case.”
“I love you too,” Casey replies, then steps aside.
“So shall we?” I murmur, offering my beautiful fiancée my arm.
“Yes. I’m ready.” She clasps her hand in mine.
“We’re the hosts tonight too, just to remind you.” I grin, then lightly pinch her small nose.
She laughs. “Honestly, I’m nervous.”
“But I’m with you.”
“You’re with me, yes.” She takes a deep breath and straightens her stance. “I’m ready.”
With her cue, I take her hand, and slowly, we step onto the stage.
AlaynaIn the last hour, we answered the press’s questions and interviews. We are live online, hosted by the Gardenia Event Hall. We spoke about our wedding date, introduced our families and friends to the people, and how grateful we were for their attendance and acceptance. Mostly, acceptance. I’m not a woman from any of the prominent families of Greece—but a chef with a compassionate mother and twelve siblings. We made sure they didn’t miss anything else about my family. However, Brandon is also right. They’ve asked me about my restaurant and about my plans as the wife of Grethe and Elga Enterprises’ chairman. It’s nerve-racking. I didn’t expect they would ask me on the spot about it. The engagement party turns out to be a presscon too.
The next hour, Brandon introduces me to his family. We sit now at a huge round table with our closest relatives, where we are now facing none other than Petros Katrakis. Brandon’s grandfather. He’s late, but he still came. It’s like answering another batch of the press’s questions all over again. It’s not even the wedding yet. My mother is answering the other questions for me.
Petros Katrakis is already in his late seventies, but his hair has barely any silver strands. He looks young for his age. However, he is intimidating as hell. I can’t tell if he likes me or not.
“But before you became a restaurant owner because of my grandson, Oliver, you worked as Brandon’s chef, right? I heard so much about you,” he says as he slices his steak.
“That’s right, sir,” I mumble.
“But it’s because of you, my boy broke down his walls,” he adds. “I wonder what happened. Do potions on food exist in America?” He laughs at his own joke. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s an amusing notion.”
I clench my fist. All right. Maybe he doesn’t like me. Everyone at our table is silent.
“Grand,” Brandon whispers. “Please. Her family is here.”
My fiancé must’ve felt the tension.
I shut my eyes briefly, and when I open them, I meet Chris’s gaze, looking at me with concern. I’m still glad he made it here.
“It’s the twenty-first century, Mr. Katrakis.” Mom laughs derisively. “But even in your time, potions don’t exist, if they do, your grandson might’ve used it on my daughter.”
“Did he, ma’am? My boy is an heir. He doesn’t need a potion to make a woman fall head over heels. Brandon is a very wealthy and handsome man.”
Mom’s eyes widen in shock.
I have already decided that this is going to be a disaster. I hold Brandon’s hand under the linen. His grip tightens around mine.
Brandon clears his throat. “Grand, Mrs. Hart. I love her, and she loves me. That’s what matters most. Isn’t that right, darling?” He shifts his gaze to me.
“Please, mom. Yes, I do. I love him,” I say while looking at everyone’s faces. Casey, Cassius, Oliver, his fiancée, some of Brandon’s cousins—to my mother and my siblings.
“And there are no potions, only talent, grandfather,” Brandon defends.
“Alayna is an exceptional chef, and her restaurant in Seattle is very successful,” Oliver says to support his cousin’s statement. “She’s a better cook than me, and her food is even better than the food in this place.”
“Penelope can cook too, right?” Petros inserts. “She used to bring me delicious desserts. Oh, where is her sister? I heard she was coming.” He scans the place. “I am waiting for her. Ah—there she is!”
I wondered who Penelope was, but she turns out to be Pauline’s sister. I suddenly see her approaching from the entrance, wearing a blue nightgown and with her is a very tall Greek man in a designer suit.
I grit my teeth. My heart begins to pound abnormally against my ribcage. This is why I don’t like her to be here, but Brandon invited her anyway. I know he’s open to me about everything now, but I still wonder when he’d ever get rid of her.
Apparently, the air has already abandoned my lungs. I spring up. I need to breathe. “Excuse me.”
Everyone’s attention shifts in my direction.
“Alayna, what is it?” Mom asks, looking up at me.
“I’m going to the restroom.”
“I’ll go with you.” Brandon and Chris stand up simultaneously, which adds to more shock on everybody’s faces.
Brandon tenses up and stares sharply at Chris’s face.
“No, I can go there myself, thank you.”
Chris sits first and averts his eyes. He’s always been thoughtful about everything, and I’m sure he’s just concerned.
I lean up to Brandon’s face and kiss his cheek. “I’ll be quick. Stay here with your grandfather. He doesn’t seem to like me.”
“Alayna, it’s not like that. Please, let me go with you.”
“Stay here. I need to pee. I had enough champagne.”
He nods and kisses me back. He lets my head out, but I know he’s watching me. I walk toward the restroom and sigh as I drain everything I drank out of my system. I also need to freshen up, so I guess I’ll wash my face too. But deep inside, I feel the need to cry it all out—the tension and the jealousy. His grandfather obviously doesn’t like me.
I hear the door of the restroom close, and footsteps thuds fill the room. Maybe I shouldn’t cry after all. I’m the bride here, and this is my night. The guest might misunderstand.
I gather myself together and make sure my unwanted emotions don’t appear on my face, so I practice smiling. Again, I try showing my teeth. I should seem happy because I am. It’s probably time I face Pauline too.
As I step out of the cubicle and open the door, fear engulfs me. Shivers run down my spine as I stumble into the familiar broad build and dangerously handsome face of my demon.
“D-Drake…” I stutter. “What are you doing here?” I ask, but even I can’t hear my worn voice.
My knees turn frail and my skin becomes ultra-sensitive.
He is leaning against the wall, with his hands in his pocket and his feet crossed. He cocks his head and smirks at me.
“How did you… How…” I study him, and he’s wearing the same as the hall attendants—a white shirt, black vest, bow ties, black trousers, and an apron around his waist.
He disguised himself and mixed himself into the crowd. My throat dries up.
“It’s not that hard, Laynie. You see, I witnessed how you chose someone else over me. You’ve completely forgotten our deal.”
“We don’t have a fucking deal! Get away from me, Drake! My fiancée and his family are outside.”
“I’m very well aware,” he says, his voice still calm.
I push him out of the way and march toward the door, but he pulls me back and spins me around.
“No one can ever take you away from me, Laynie.”
“Hey!—Hmmm!” He covers my mouth and pushes me to the wall, his chest pressing against mine. I suddenly feel dizzy.
“Don’t shout. You don’t know the consequences.”
I struggle. “Hmmmmp!”
“If you shout now, everyone in that event hall shall die.”
He takes his hand off my mouth.
“What do you mean?”
“I have men around the area. I can just ask them to shoot anyone, or maybe your fiancée if you ever try to defy me. They will never know who did it. A terrorist attack. Maybe? It fits the game, right? It’ll be all because you forgot how to behave.”
My chest explodes and the tears I have been holding finally burst out. “What do you want, Drake? Please don’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s more like it. I know you’re easy to tame. Still so easy.” He takes off a lock of hair blocking my face. “I want you to come with me, of course, and you are not going to make a scene. I mean everything I said.”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t want to. I hate you.”
He runs his finger over my shoulder. “No, you missed me. Don’t you miss what we used to do?” Then he traces my cheek with the back of his hand.
I shut my eyes. He always does this whenever he wants me to calm down, and my body remembers him.
“That’s it. That’s it, sweetheart.”
“Don’t hurt anyone, please,” I beg.
“Shh… No, of course not. I just want you to come with me and finish what we have started.”
I whimper. “No. Please. Don’t do this to me, Drake. I can’t… Please.”
“Don’t you remember?”
I shake my head.
“Then I’ll remind you of it. Now, I want you to take off your clothes and change into this.” He picks some pieces of clothes folded from the sink. It turns out to be another attendant uniform.
“Why?”
“You look too bulky in that dress. It looks beautiful on you, but we don’t want any attention.”
He hands me the clothes, and I stare at them.
Maybe he’s just bluffing. Perhaps I can get away and run.No, no. Drake is manipulative. But he never lied. So I know he could hurt Brandon, or his family, or mine… He can do it. He hurt me too.
I sob. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere far. Far from here. Laynie.” He cups my face. “It’s time you knew the truth about your dad. Just come with me, and I’ll tell you everything. I’ll help you, and I promise to be good,” he whispers.
He has said these words to me before too—that he would be good.
But he still abused me.
“You’ll get used to me again. Come with me. Not him. I still love you, Alayna, and I waited everyday for you.” He opens his eyes again, and I see the danger. Then he roughly yanks the back of my hair.
“Ah!”
He clenches his jaw. “Or I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way. Anyone.“Don’t. I’ll go with you.”
“Good. Now, put this on. We’re leaving out of here.”
“Can you at least tell me where?”
“To your new home?” He shrugs. “I can’t tell you until you promise you’ll behave.”
“I promise.” I swallow dryly. I need to know because I might be able to do something about it. Perhaps I can lead Brandon there later, or I can try to get away from him now…
“You’re lying.”
Or maybe I can’t. “No, please. I will be good.”
“I see.” He crosses his arms. “I can only tell you one thing. Do you remember where I was born? I wasn’t always from Lawrence.”
I nod. “Your mother’s hometown… wait.” I scowl. “Wichita?”
“Bingo.”
“You’re taking me back to Kansas?” my voice rises. Before, he didn’t tell me exactly where in Brazil he was. It was where he went when he had his eye surgery.
“Yes, and we’re leaving tonight.”