Jason told me Drake’s place was nowhere near our house, but ever since that day in the kitchen, Drake had walked me home every day from school.
“Thanks for walking me home again today,” I said as we strolled into our neighborhood, looking at our shadows on the pavement. The sun was setting with a dramatic filter of orange hitting our faces.
He smiled. “No problem.”
Drake Mallory was a gentleman. He would carry my knapsack for me when we walked, and he listened diligently to anything I would say. He also smiled a lot and could laugh easily at simple things. We didn’t talk about anything very personal and only discussed important school activities… until the day he showed me his art.
“Oh, Alayna. I’m going to show you something.” He opened his backpack, drew out a black, thick sketchpad, and then flipped some pages before presenting it to me.
He showed me an etched drawing of a beautiful girl with her long fingers brushed on her hair and as though her charcoal eyes were looking straight at me.
“You can draw? Drake, this is amazing!” I gasped.
He scratched his hair. “It’s not much. I’m still practicing.”
“It looks beautiful to me.” I stared at the drawing. “She looks so real. Who is she?” Probably his crush? Please, let it not be his crush.
“No one. Just in my imagination. I haven’t tried realism yet.”
“You’re already academically inclined, and you’re talented. Your parents must be so proud!”
“I’m not sure about that.”
I blinked. “Why?”
“Only a few people know I can draw,” he confessed.
“You didn’t tell the mayor?”
He shook his head.
“Then he’s missing a lot. But I’m sure he knows.”
“Probably not. Unlike your parents, mine isn’t very—” A beat passed “—they’re busy. But you, you seem very close to your parents?”
“Very,” I said proudly. “Mom and Dad spoiled their children with everything. We don’t have much, but we never went without. Chris was sent to college at the university he chose, and Jason already has a prospect after graduating from high school. Dad supported his decision too.”
“Taking the Valentine siblings in is already a huge responsibility for your parents. They’re generous, and you’re fortunate to have them. Maybe they could adopt me too.” He grinned sweetly.
I laughed. “I’m sure you’ve got nice parents, too. You’re Mayor Mallory’s son. He is this town’s champion.”
Drake’s handsome features turned serious. “The only things I remembered from my childhood are toys I didn’t need and Minnie—my nanny—raising me. My parents… They’re almost… nonexistent.”
I blushed. “Oh. I’m sorry.” I shifted my eyes down the road. “That was insensitive of me.”
“That’s alright.” He sighed. “I’m used to it. It doesn’t affect me much anymore.”
I could tell it affected him for sure. His beautiful green eyes seemed so dejected. I couldn’t help but feel bad. I wondered what his childhood was like. Mayor Donovan Mallory seemed like a noble father. He was supporting children’s homes with Dad, but was it just for a public presence?
I shook the thought away. I knew I shouldn’t be judging people like that.
Also, I still knew very little about Drake.
We continued to the street towards my house, and while we were still a few more steps away, I spotted a gleaming luxury car parked outside.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Drake muttered.
“What is it?”
“Come on.”
Drake sprinted toward our house, and I followed his pace. I also noticed two men in black suits standing by the door, but he disregarded them and proceeded. As soon as we entered, a familiar guest was standing in the living room with my parents. I caught my mouth as I recognized him. It was Mayor Donovan Mallory.
Mayor Mallory furiously advanced at his son and slammed a fist into Drake’s face. Drake tripped and covered his nose.
Oh my God!My eyes widened, and my legs stiffened. Before I could even move, Mom grabbed my hand and yanked me aside.
“You ungrateful, worthless child!” Mayor Donovan slapped Drake’s face again. “I only asked one thingI squealed, but thankfully, my palms were sealed in my mouth. I looked at Drake and waited for him to react, but he was frozen. Dark red blood is now running down his face.
“Donovan,” Dad called. “He probably has a reason.”
“The only reason I can see is his laziness, Richard. He is a disgrace. A fucking failure!” Donovan roared, and the behavior was the opposite version of what I knew. Donovan Mallory was supposed to be a children’s hero.
Drake didn’t respond.
Whatever they were talking about, I didn’t think it was right to be treated like that in front of other people.
Mayor Mallory looked back at Dad. “I’m sorry for the trouble. I’m taking him home.” He darted his eyes in my direction and slightly grimaced, but Drake didn’t bother looking back and then left with his dad.
“Dad? What’s going on?”
My father shook his head, and disappointment marked his eyes. “Donovan still hasn’t changed.”
“What do you mean? Is the mayor like this all the time?”
“Sweetheart.” Dad held my shoulder. “Is Drake your boyfriend?”
“No, but we’re friends, I guess.” I shrugged. “He usually hangs out with Jason in school.”
“Then you better keep that friendship at school for now. His dad… Let’s just say that he’s a little difficult.”
“I can see that.” I sighed in frustration. I was still in utter shock. “He assaulted his son! Not that I would tell anyone about that, of course.”
“Laynie.” Mom touched my face. “Drake’s a good kid, but if ever you get closer to him, just be careful. His family… they’re from a different world we won’t understand.”
“I see nothing but a guy with excellent grades and liked by many people.”
“We know,” Dad said, “but you understand what we’re saying, right?”
“I understand.” Of course, I realized that. His dad didn’t seem to like me. Mayor Donovan didn’t seem to care for his son’s feelings. The version of him he’s showing to other people must be false then.
Donovan Mallory was a sham. Now“What do you think I should wear? This—” I lift the rose-gold Dior sequined evening dress “—or this?” I show him the Burberry embellished satin dress.
Both dresses were brought by John today, and various other glittery versions since Brandon wanted to be sure I was wearing the best. He even had the store owner pick out everything personally and deliver it to the penthouse.
He deliberately didn’t tell me because he knew I would oppose. I typically would, but there was no point in debating with him now. I have nothing decent to wear, and I definitely won’t go to the art exhibit in Brandon’s arms, unmatched by his designer looks.
The love of my life looks away from his phone, slipping it back into his pocket then gazes up at the dresses. He is already immaculately and deliciously dressed in a crisp designer tux.
“They’ll both look good on you, I’m sure.” His eyes squint and drop to my legs up to my chest, almost bursting out of my dress. I have been walking around in dresses in his penthouse all morning.
My shoulders stoop. “I need you to be more specific than that. Which one do you prefer?”
“Black seems classic for tonight’s event. Besides, it matches your panties.” His mouth curls playfully. He then walks to his drawer and picks up a watch.
I face the mirror again, flushed. “Black it is.”
I hang the rose-gold dress back in the closet and slip into the black dress. I return to Brandon to have him zip the dress for me. Brandon’s finger brushes the bare of my back and carefully zips up my dress. He then spins me around and plants a firm kiss on my lips.
“I’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands away.” He slides his arms around my waist, sniffing my neck. “Go ahead. I’m going to make a call then we’re leaving, okay?”
“Okay.” I give him a peck on his cheek. Brandon marches to the door and closes it behind him as he exits.
I complete my look for tonight with glam makeup, finishing the touch with a swipe of red lipstick. I let my dark, wavy hair down and then slip on a pair of strappy black Louboutin heels. I then pick up my purse and head to the stairs.
Brandon is still on the phone, but his eyes are glued to me, assessing my appearance with gleaming eyes. “I’ll see you tonight then,” he says and hangs up.
“I look expensive,” I tease.
He chuckles deliciously. “You look beautiful. Shall we? By the way, Oliver’s coming tonight,” he whispers before releasing my hand.
“Ollie,” I breathe. “Wow. That’s so sudden. Was it him on the phone just now?”
“Yes.” He grunts. “It’s a last-minute decision, actually.”
“Then why don’t you sound pleased? I’ve missed him.”
“He’s coming here with his fiancée. He’s invited to the art exhibit anyway, and we both know what he thinks about arranged marriage.”
“Ooh.” I grimace. “For public attention.”
“Yep.”
I curl my arms around his neck and stare into my man’s mesmerizing gray eyes. “Why does it have to be this way, then? Ollie deserves more.”
He kisses my lips. “He’s stronger than the rest of us. I believe he’ll get through this.”
“But this arrangement isn’t his choice, so that’s not reassuring. How long is he staying?”
Brandon pulls me into his body and sandwiches me in his muscular arms. “That’s what I need to find out. He’ll probably fly to Manhattan with me. He entwines his fingers with mine and heads towards the elevator. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
As we walk into the function hall, I feel at ease and excited. It is the first time Brandon and I are attending an event together—not that I often go to this kind of occasion, but I’m thrilled to see the art exhibit since I haven’t been to one before. There are already people wandering around the partitions, and everything is shimmering before my eyes.
I’m suddenly thankful I chose the black dress for its elegance. The guests’ outfits are extra grand tonight, as though we are attending a luxury brand fashion show. There are massive portraits, abstracts, paintings, and photographs hanging on the walls, people ogling their beauty, which reminded me of how much Brandon loves the arts since he has filled his mansion’s wall with many of those.
Tonight, we first approached a young man and the owner of the art exhibit herself. Matteo and Emilia Ricci.
I saw Matteo a few times whenever he stopped by La Mia Cucina, and Emilia was with her brother at the restaurant’s opening. Emilia is stunning tonight in her royal blue designer dress and her ink-black hair tied up in a beautiful bun. As usual, Matteo looks regal in his black suit and royal blue matching ties.
“Matteo.” Brandon greets the man whom I know as Oliver’s friend. “How are you?”
“Hey, man! Good to see you,” he grins, and both men exchange a brief shoulder pat. “I’m good, I’m good.”
“Emilia, congratulations.” Brandon shakes her hand.
“Thank you! I’m so glad you made it!” Emilia nods in her slightly raspy alto voice and grins sweetly at us. “Alayna, you came.” She embraces me with light brushes of our lips to each other’s cheeks.
I’m surprised she remembers me. “Of course. Congratulations.” I hand her the bouquet of peonies I’m holding. “This is for you.”
“Thank you.” She sniffs the flowers and smiles. “These are lovely.”
“Alayna? Good to see you again.” Matteo greets me with another kiss on the cheek. “Come stai?”“Molto bene, e tu?”“Bene, bene. Non vedo l’ora di cenare di nuovo nel tuo ristorante.”“Oh, si. Sei il benvenuto a venire di nuovo.”He chuckles. “Grazie.”“Thank you for coming, Brandon, Alayna,” “Oh, he is. We’re waiting for him as well,” Brandon answers.
“I see.” She smiles. “Please tell me if there’s anything here that interests you, Brandon. The artworks here aren’t just mine. There are wonderful paintings here by various artists. Oliver mentioned you like arts.”
“I do. Thank you, Emilia,” Brandon says.
“Very well then. Please enjoy the rest of the night. We’ll be greeting the other guests,” Matteo excuses, and his eyes land on me once more.
“Oh, please do,” I say.
“Brandon.”
Brandon nods at him, and then the siblings approach the newly arrived guests.
“I haven’t heard you speak Italian before,” he comments. “Except for the dishes’ names.”
“Because there was no reason to.”
He looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “But Matteo seems smitten.”
I snort. “He probably speaks the language every day, so there’s no wayHe possessively squeezes my waist. “I’m not. I’m only stating what I saw.”
“Then you saw it wrong.” I glide my hands on his chest up to the back of his neck. I play with the hair on his nape with my fingertips.
He catches my wrist and kisses it. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he says gruffly.
“Mm. Maybe you’re the one who’s smitten. I should probably scream in Italian next time when we… you know.”
A groan vibrates in his chest. “Oh, Alayna Hart. What am I going to do with you?”
I giggle. “Let’s take a tour. I want to see the artwork.”
I take his hand and lead him further inside the exhibit. I first stop in front of a vast painting of a little girl in a gorgeous pink dress with pastel florals around her. The beautiful scenery isn’t the only thing that amazes me, but the hyperrealism! It looks so real“Glorious,” I whisper. “Look at her hands,” I say, referring to the little girl. Her fingers are twisting her brown hair. “She looks—”
“She looks like you.”
I gaze at the painting. The girl has the same hair color, her eyes look round, and her mouth’s shape’s similar. “A little, maybe, but she’s so ladylike.”
“Uncanny.” He slightly cocks his head, gazing more at the painting a bit more.
“Is it really—”
Brandon’s ringtone echoes abruptly. He then slips his hands into his pocket and frowns at his phone screen. “It’s Oliver. Hold on.” He presses the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
My heart somehow feels elated at the idea of seeing Oliver again. I haven’t heard of him since he left, and I have so many questions to ask him.
I follow Brandon’s gesture as he watches every person coming through the door, but there’s still no sight of Oliver.
“Is he already here, or what?” I inquire.
“He’s probably still outside. I heard him arguing with someone on the other line.”
“Arguing?” That didn’t sound like Ollie at all. “Is he okay?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Then go and look for him,” I suggest sternly. “I can’t go after him on these new heels. I’m barely able to stand upright.”
He cups my face. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, you’ll find me right here. I’m not moving an inch.”
“Good. Wait for me, okay?”
“Sure,” I say as Brandon kisses my forehead, then marches towards the door. When he’s out of sight, I turn to admire the paintings in their delicate lighting.
“Do you like it?” A deep, soothing voice abruptly echoes in my ears, seconds after Brandon leaves, and I make myself as comfortable as I can in the stiff heels on my feet.
I gasp. Yes, his voice does sound calm, but my insides are revolting. “It’s…” I gulp hard. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
“Shh… it’s okay. Don’t be scared,” he whispers softly as long-fingered hands travel to my waist. My muscles instantly soften, but my mind screams the opposite, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Slowly, I spin around.
“Open your eyes,” he orders, and I obey. Like I always did.
I find Drake’s face in front of me. His features are more defined now. A strong, precise jaw, a pair of light green eyes, and lips that are curled into a smirk. His dark blond hair is trimmed in a perfect undercut, unlike his usual unruly style.
He holds my arms to steady my balance, and goosebumps parade all over my body.
“D-Don’t, please.”
“That hurtsI shake my head. Please don’t hurt me… His eyes suddenly darken. “What did you just say?”
I swallow again. “I said, stop“Why? Didn’t you like the flowers I sent you?”
I don’t answer, pressing my lips together firmly.
“Answer me,” he demands, but his voice remains calm and low. “Roses, right?”
“Please, no,” I sob.
He thrusts his finger into my hair. “I said. Answer. Me.”
“Y-yes.” I feel my tears rush down my cheek, but he gently wipes it away.
“Good.” He looks at me with admiration, but I hate myself for acknowledging his advance. I don’t know what’s going on with me anymore. My body still responds to his touch in every way it shouldn’t. “Your new boyfriend. Does he know who how“N-No.”
“I didn’t think so. What we have, LaynieI shove his hand away with all my might. “Stay away from me.”
He releases me and chuckles. “Jason was right. You’ve changed.”
Jason. Is he still in contact with my brother?“But not so much,” he goes on. “I can see that you’re still mine in all the ways that count.”
“No.” I shake my head firmly. “There is no way I’m still yours! You’ve hurt me.”
“You think you’re not, but you are. Especially now that you’re within my grasp.” He steps closer until there’s barely any space between us. “It’s been a long time, Laynie.”