“A party?”
“Yap, for the end of the season of the production, Magnolia is hosting. You should come.”
Janine utters as she removes the last set of jewellery from me.
For a minute, my gaze on the dresser reminded me of the forcefulness Marko held me in.
The delightful intensity of his silver eyes that held me in the mirror and the foul language that slipped from his lips as he buried himself inside me.
A shudder escapes me at the memory.
For a man who doesn’t talk much, he is a beast.
My teeth find my lower lip as I press my centre harder on the chair, hoping to squelch the throb that came alive.
We haven’t talked since then; we either had to film separately, or he had affairs to handle being an A-lister, of course.
But if I go to the party then, we can talk and maybe even define this so that I do not have to hesitate to dial his number on my phone.
How weird would it be if a one-time thing had the audacity to call from a number she had to get from the director?
He is an A-lister, so that can’t be the first time he’s had sex with a co-worker; yet before I demean my presence in his life, shouldn’t I ask?
“Have I been invited?”
“Of course you have; she invited everyone from the production.”
“Oh, that’s great! Could you, um…help me dress up?”
“Ohh! Is there someone you want to impress that you need old Janine’s skills?”
I chuckle and poke her side in response.
**
“Thank you for coming, Alba, and right on time. I was about to give a tour.”
Magnolia utters after a quick hug.
“That’s great. Has everyone else arrived?”
“Everyone but Marko, but I wouldn’t expect him; he doesn’t attend these things.”
Right…of course he doesn’t.
Of course.
Our walk to the living room was quick and contrary to her expectations; I was the only one who wanted a tour of her magnificent white marble-floored perfection that bore the kind of luxury I had only ever seen on set.
“You know…”
Magnolia begins as she leads me to the room beside her exquisite office that is spacious enough to hold a chandelier.
“I still can’t believe they killed my character like that.”
“Who knows, you might make a comeback soon.”
“Oh, please, there is no need for politeness Alba. The only way that’s possible is if there is another production under another name later, but we both know the next season is the last. I really wanted your part, you know.”
“To be ‘Alba’?”
“Well, she would have been ‘Magnolia’, but yes.”
“I find Magnolia regal; you quite literally suit her.”
“I do, don’t I?’
She jokes as she leads me down a hallway filled with photos.
On closer inspection, some held Marko.
In every photo that Marko was in, the ones where he showed joy in his expression were the ones that held a dark-haired and hazel-eyed beauty standing beside him.
An odd feeling I cannot fully claim to understand roams my chest.
Perhaps it is my imagination, but…I resemble, albeit slightly, the black-haired girl.
“You know.”
Magnolia begins, grabbing my attention as she lifts one of the framed photos off the wall.
“When I first told Marko about the production, he wasn’t interested.”
A slight sense of dread leers in my gut; I both want to hear and not hear what she says next.
“Oh? What got him interested?”
It surprises me that there is no tremble in my voice.
“You. Well, most specifically, your looks; his first love, Bridgette. Oh, here she is.”
She offers me the frame she took and points at the dark-haired woman next to him showing off rings with a sign scribbled ‘engaged’.
“She looks like you, or you look like her, whichever you prefer. Anyway, that’s why I think he took the part after I showed him your picture.”
I...am so stupid.
Of course…there had to be a reason for his abrupt interest.
Of course.
“They almost got married, it wasn’t announced to the public, but they were lovely together, but you know shit happens.”
Magnolia continues, but her voice is too distant to place.
My chest must have shattered, for its tightness feels far too painful for it to be normal.
**
I don’t know when the tour ended or if we visited any other room after that hallway. All I know is that I shouldn’t be here.
After a few seconds of fiddling with my phone in Magnolia’s line of sight (Mainly texting Rhett, who also couldn’t make it), I grew courageous enough for my lie.
“Hey, uh, I am sorry this is a little abrupt, but an emergency popped up, and I have to leave. Perhaps next time?”
The doorbell rings before she can answer, and rather than the ringer waiting for her to open, they waltz in with the confidence of one accustomed to being in the house.
“Marko, you came?”
A commotion stirs around him at Magnolia’s question, but his gaze meets mine solely.
Instantly, my gaze lowers.
It doesn’t matter anyway; if all he sees is Bridgette in me, he doesn’t need to see the colour of my eyes for a reminder of where my capabilities as a replacement fall short.
Magnolia’s focus is no longer on me; I am starting to think she didn’t need my lie.
After grabbing my coat from the door, I scour the house for another exit that did not hold Marko’s frame. Unfortunately, there is none, so I squeeze past the crowd forming around him, but his hand is quick on my wrist, halting my grand escape.
“Are you leaving?”
“She has an emergency to tend to.”
Magnolia excuses on my behalf.
“I’ll drop you off.”
“Marko, you’ve just arrived; she is a big girl she can handle herself.”
My gaze turns to Magnolia, and her face contorts to…embarrassment.
She might have a crush on Marko; that explains her telling me about Bridgette.
Still, even if she means to put me in my place, it worked; his fiancé and I do look alike; where she was present in the photos, he was bright, and an engagement always means ‘commitment’.
I must have looked so pathetic trying to get his attention over the past weeks. Thank God I did not have the confidence to dial his line.
Still, between Magnolia and me, I guess nobody wins.
I struggle to free my wrist from his hold, and when he doesn’t budge, I speak.
“You are delaying me, Marko.”
I should have kept my head down.
I can’t even start an argument with him because it might affect the quality of the production, and worse, he has more power and fan support than I do.
‘Alba’ might be killed off if I stir unnecessary drama.
“Please.”
At my plea, he lets go of my hand, and I slide out the door without another word.
**
The cool air billowing my hair reminds me of the seconds ticking by; I should have called a cab before this.
"Have I done something to offend you?”
Marko’s deep voice finds me the second I notice the headlights from the cab.
Thank God.
"No, of course not, Marko.”
Thank God for the dark night covering most of my expressions.
“I am just a little slow, is all.”
"What is that supposed to mean."
"It means I have an emergency, and my cab is here. I will see you in a few months for the last season; take care, Marko.”
"Hush hush, Milos."I whisper to the fussy bundle of warmth in my arms; he had begun fussing from the second I sprayed my perfume on; either he is allergic, or he understands that I am leaving the house.“Any sign of him settling?”Violet asks as she nears me with a bottle of milk warmed to room temperature.“No, not even a little. Should I stay?”Milos, as if understanding my question to Violet, opens his little hands as if trying to reach me and coos.A warmth melts in my chest before he offers a toothless grin at my ‘aww’.“See, he wants me to stay.”“How many of Marko’s events have you missed? Didn’t the league tell you how many of his men they caught trying to snoop around you? At this rate, he might find out about-”“I know, I know-”I respond with a quick eye roll.“Come on, gimmie Milos, before you change your mind.”Her arms reach for him, but I instinctively cradle him closer to my chest.The sound of the bell interrupts us.“That has to be Beatrice with George and Owen for
The beating of my heart seems to halt.I cannot tell if my ears are ringing or if it is the effect of blood rushing from my head to settle in my gut.Where did he get the name from? Me in the car or elsewhere?My mouth moves to make an excuse, but none comes to mind. What does he know? How can I twist this?"I was playing around with the name in the car. It’s nice. Are you jealous I do not appreciate yours in the same way?""I'll answer that when you try again; perhaps this time, put some effort if you intend on lying to me."Shit."You've sent people to spy on me.”It is not a question I ask, but a statement that he smiles after."Not well trained enough to evade the league security, but even gutter rats have their way."Fuck, that's…not an answer.“Are you referring to yourself as, said gutter rat?”“The league is bigger than us, unimaginably so. I have received quite a few sanctions from my attempts to reach you; hence it has taken a year.”Marko pauses to gesture with his hand tha
The champagne smells lovely; I am still breastfeeding, so I cannot touch it no matter how badly my conversation with Marko makes me crave it; then again, even if it weren’t for my pregnancy, I probably wouldn’t be able to. So far, only home-cooked food, meaning those cooked by people I trust, work for me. Violet’s insistence on dining out leaves me eating the barest amount necessary to appease her, but progress is progress, she always insists. At least the nightmares ended, though, with Milos’s crying for the past months… let’s just say the shortage of sleep made going back to bed after a nightmare easy, so eventually, they occurred less. Now, all that remains is a sense of dread that creeps in when it is too quiet. Again, progress, yet I cannot place if it is indeed progress or if I am running too fast for any contrast to find me. The scent of lilies envelopes me as warm yet rough hands press my body. “Alba! It has been ages!” Lily utters in an exasperated breath. “Have…did y
"Join you in the hall? I need to leave; there is an emergency. We can dance next time."I dismiss with ease, but he nears me."Next time when?"Marko asks with a smile as his hand grazes the paintings on his way to me."During your next...thing?""Oh...you won't have moved or fired half your staff by then? Are you certain that I will not get a response from the league saying you are halfway across the globe? Or on a diplomatic mission or task force somewhere?”He stills to turn his gaze to a silver polished vase shimmering beautifully under the bright chandelier lights. “‘Next time’ when Alba.""I can't...I can't do this right now.""Of course, you ‘can't’; running is, after all, what you do best, Alba.”His slow walk toward me resumes.I hate the way he punctuates his sentences with my name as if to stress his disappointment in me.Yet another feeling I do not need clogging me.“Another time, Marko. I need to-”“To what? to go? And then what? I spend another year and a half waiting
Marko "I don't..." Alba began, her breath warm against his frame. Her pulse raced wildly; he could feel it through the hand pressed between her breasts. A few more centimetres, either to the left or right, and he could reach the delicious stiff buds that were no doubt sensitised enough to have her moaning into his frame. Just a few more centimetres, and he could see it once more, her face desperate, brows lifted in wanton desire, and her mouth parted wide to let her soft moans escape. "Don't what?" He asked, burying his nose in her hair. Her scent had indeed changed to a softer, more soothing- "I do not want to play this love game with you, Marko. I don’t want to play with you anymore. I am tired of us." Her cold hand reached for his that had begun sliding toward the mound on the left to halt her words. Everything about where and how they stood was improper, but she was his. Her lusciousness was his to squeeze. Her softness his to desire. Everything about her was his.
The world around him was dark…blue…. cold… terrifying… empty… void… pointless… pointless. Pointless. “Your majesty?” Everything was hideous; food tasted of nothing; music burned his ears with its blandness, and everything remained meaningless in his misery. “Your majesty?” He hated everything in his sight. The statues, the art, and the halls were all decorated beautifully, but they soured everything within him. Yes, he should burn everything down. "Your majesty!" He jolted at the familiar call before his eyes raced across the room to place his surroundings. Where...was he? "Your majesty, you have wandered far from your room." His butler, Marcus, uttered as he offered a shawl to him. His gaze dropped to his shirtless attire and pyjama bottoms before accepting the old man’s kindness. “Thank you.” In the darkness that enveloped the room, he placed it finally as the ancestral hall that held the statuses of great Ivanov Lycans. A sacred room. Yet now, most of the artworks
The warmth engulfing me seems to want to swallow me.My breasts ache. My centre throbs too maddeningly that the sensation does not soothe by pressing my thighs together; rather, that emphasises the deepness of the throb.I wonder if I can climax from only this sensation and the cool and crisp scent that is flooding my nostrils, making me feel as if I were burning in a winter forest.Squirming does not help.The move of my hand to my centre is halted by something big and strong pressed against me.Begrudgingly, my eyelids open, taking in the new light of day from the small windows in the room.Oh…right, the plane.We must have landed; I do not feel any movement around-“Hah…this crazy son of-”I press my lips shut when the bear-like man buried beneath my breasts shifts slightly to adjust before his steady breathing resumes.My arms are around him, but his are the ones keeping my body in place.How can anyone sleep in such a position?How can he keep his nose buried against me? What if
‘How could you make me someone he is wary of?’His question stills everything within me.If he asks it in that way, then there is no defence I can come up with. Everything I utter will be just another excuse.An excuse that, in his frustration, he will demolish, leaving me resting in nothing but guilt.When I left, I was in the worst situation possible, but much has changed since then. At some point, I should have been the one to tell him. He is right, I never gave him a chance.Giggles follow the silence following his question as Milos's head presses against my chest.Cute, but it worsens the situation as a scoff leaves his throat."Alba?"Sharon calls from the hall, rather, from the nursery.Her voice sounds groggy, meaning she must have fallen asleep on the couch in Milos’s room…again."Just a second!"I utter, then turn to Marko."I'll go-""Go and what? Hear the diagnosis without me?"Marko interrupts.Huh…I am saying everything wrong today.I meant that I would go and at least p