04 | MARE'S NEST

THAT VOICE BELONGS to none other than the man wrapped in whiskey and sin.

My attention falters from Zoe and fixates on Alessio who isn't looking at me, his roughly calloused hand is outstretched in Zoe's direction along with his whole attention on my new friend.

He's asking her to dance, I think to myself. Standing in the corner, I see Zoe put her hands in Alessio's who holds it in a firm grip and both of them retreat to the dance floor without sparing me a single glance.

Suddenly it's like I'm the bland painting on a wall—not captivating enough to have anyone's attention and not alluring enough to have my own husband dance with me.

He has his arms wrapped around a woman's waist whose identity I didn't know of—surrounded by more couples. The love dripping from most people's gaze is so painstakingly prominent that it feels like someone's punching a hole through my heart.

Why don't I have anyone who loves me like this? Why don't I have anyone who wants to dance with me? Why don't I have anyone who looks at me with such care and love like many people in this ballroom? The most impending question of all is, what did I do to deserve all this?

It is really common for men in this line of work to not love their women, that's what my mother used to say but why didn't it apply to her and father? While I would always get cruel words, harsh beatings, humiliations, ragged clothes, torn shoes and hate on the other hand, my sister, Alyssa would get compliments, affection, impeccable care, brand new clothes, designer shoes, and most importantly love.

Love was something that I craved as a kid, always trying to get at the top of my classes for my parents to give me their soft smiles that were always reserved for Alyssa, and always try to eat less even if it meant for me to writher at nights due to hungriness just to get a proud pat on my head from any one of parents, always tried to be soft spoken to have them talk about me to other with utmost pride but that never happened. It was like I was a beast—something, someone so hideous and brazen to be hidden from the whole world.

With time, the zeal inside me died, to get my parent's affection or their love. The only time I was given beautiful clothes, and treated affectionately was when Gianni visited. Every dinner he would attend—my mother would dress me up in beautiful frocks, and tie my hair with pretty ribbons, and at the dinner table—I would be showered with everything I desired.

Excluding the painful practice nights with Gianni, I admired everything else he did for me. Everything would've been perfect if I hadn't sneaked out that night just to get some momentarily freedom before being tied forever maybe then I wouldn't have lost the parts of me to him that I wasn't sure existed, maybe then I wouldn't have been getting beatings from Gianni.

It's all Alessio's fault.

Something wet lands on my hand and my thoughts come to a halt, that's when I realize. I am crying.

Giving a last glance to Gianni I venture to find the ladies' restroom to bring myself up because if I'm caught crying, it will land me in trouble again.

The music fades away in the background as I rush towards the restroom with my face directed towards the floor. A sign escapes my lips when I catch the sign of the restroom and to my relief—it's empty.  My nerves unease a little as I sag against the wall and the cool surface makes contact with the warm skin of my back.

I stay like this for a moment or two and a thought crosses my brain, if I stay here long enough will anyone realize I'm gone? Or if I leave this ballroom, will my husband care enough to look for me?

Brushing such scandalous thoughts aside, I walk towards the sink and look at my reflection.

Horrifying. That's what you are.

This sentence has been tattooed in every corner of my soul because of how many times I've been told this by my parents and sister. However, their words never seemed to match other's thoughts about me.

Gorgeous.

Beautiful.

Special.

That's what I've been addressed by several times by outsiders yet I never quite believed it. I ran my index finger on the outline of my green eyes that shaped slyly to my pointed nose and finally rested on my puffy red-painted lips.

My moment is cut short when suddenly a large figure barges in.

"Mr. Russo?"

There he stands breathing a little harshly, the buttons of his blazer undone and hand against the wall with his knuckles almost white.

"Alessio," he corrects me and a visible shiver runs down my spine. At my actions, a Shadow passes through his eyes before disappearing.

"What are you doing here?" My voice is breathless signifying as if I ran a marathon but in all honesty, it's the proximity of me sharing a closed space with a man who has more control over my very being unknowingly than others who've imposed it on me, my whole life.

"I'm here for you," he says. And my eyes bulge out of their sockets when he turns back and locks the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" My question disappears into the air separating us.

"Privacy," his reply rolls off his tongue in a manner as if it is the most obvious answer, and I—a fool for even asking it.

"Oh God—my husband is outside and if he s-sees us in here, alone! He won't be happy!" My words are rushed, panicked but the man in front of me is cool, calm, and collected.

"Calm down, Nicole."

"How can you expect me to be calm? Have you lost your mind? Let me out!"

The next things happen so quickly, that I'm unable to grasp the moves of the man in front of me as he—with utmost grace—wraps a hand around my mouth and pushes me against a wall.

"I'm not here for doing anything wrong," he explains. "I have something really important to discuss."

His words fall deaf to my ears as panic settles deep inside me. If Gianni finds out then I'm as good as dead.

"Nicole," his voice transforms into a soft whisper as his grip on my mouth loosens. "I'm letting you go but promise me you'll listen to what I have to say."

My bottom lip wobbles but I keep it in control and nod slightly. As his hand is gone from my mouth, putting as many meters I can between us—I take deep puffs of air and urge him to continue.

"I want you to help me with something." Not a plea but rather a demand.

My eyes are on the ground as I let his words settle comfortably in the packets of air between us. "My help?"

"It's related to your husband," the word husband leaves his mouth with such disdain and hate that I physically recoil. When I don't reply to his statement, he continues, "Lots of money has been slipping from under me and I suspect it's Gianni's doing. Since I can't do anything against him without any proof, I want your help with it."

Finally, I let my eyes meet his dark ones, and I'm frozen in my place, reasons unknown to me.

"You're telling me you need my help to ruin my husband?" I ask, tilting my head.

"You're a member of the Russo family now. And it's your duty as a family to help me find out who the traitor is."

"Just because I have the Russo surname, does it make me a member of your family?"

Is that really what families are? A surname?

"Yes."

Silence engulfs the air and without backing down from his cool gaze. I steel my spine before replying, "I'm sorry."

Before he can open his mouth, I rush past him to the door but stop for a moment to clarify. "I can't help you ruin my husband."

A fleeting moment passes, I wait for his answer that never comes so I unlock the door and I'm almost out of the door when I feel his booming presence right beside me.

Something small and cold is slipped into my left hand that suspiciously feels like a cell phone. An elicit shiver awakens and lays a trail of goosebumps in its way as it makes its way down my spine when I feel his hot breath right above my ear.

"Think about it, Nicole. You give me what you want and I will give you what you want."

Giving his words no other thoughts, I'm about to step away once again but his hand clamps down on the small of my waist before he whispers harshly, "Who did this to you?"

My heart drops in a puddle at my feet when I feel rough fingers delicately brush my hair past my back and run across the bare skin of my back.

"No one."

I'm out in a blink and mix myself in the crowd of people with my heart beating profoundly against my ribcage.

Looking at the small phone in my hand, I realize I've gotten myself tangled in a mare's nest.