Chapter 7: Show Time

Amber's pov:

My heart fluttered as his thumb traced my lips. "Alessandro Bianchi!" I heard Harlow scream from the hall. Alessandro rolled his eyes as he stood up and walked away immediately. I could hear them screaming from downstairs. I am proud of myself today, for the first time in a very long, I didn't faint within the first few seconds of hearing the gunshots.

Alessandro's protection somehow managed to help me, he did live up to his words.

The next morning, the bed seems rather cold, as my eyes open, I notice that Alessandro is gone. "Mrs. Bianchi, today is the day of the masquerade ball. The gathering commences at 7 p.m. and will go on till 9 p.m. I've got outfits for you to choose from, all of them have been hand-picked by Mr. Bianchi," says the lady in black standing in front of me. I go over the dresses and the matching masks.

All of them are beautiful in their way. I select an embroidered emerald gown with a matching lace mask. Alessandro would look great in royal green, I think to myself. I bite my lip thinking about the way he traced my lips yesterday. Nevertheless, I snap out of it and head to the art gallery.

At 5 p.m., I enter the house. As the main door unlocks, I see him in the suit looking more handsome than ever. "Mr. Bianchi, looking good," I couldn't contain myself. He only cocks his eyebrow and seizes to respond. I change into my fit in our room and head outside, the servants help me hold up the massive puffy gown. 

I feel Alessandro's eyes on me as I walk down the stairs, carefully, the lights turn on one by one. "Ready to go, Mrs. Bianchi?" He asked, in a gentle tone. I nod, and we head outside. Sitting in the limousine, I start to shake my legs. The paparazzi screaming, the flashing of lights and clicking sounds of the camera, and-

"Don't think so much," Alessandro cuts my train of thought, "I'll be with you, just hold on tight." 

As we step out of the limo, Alessandro makes sure to never leave my side. All of the loud noises combined to make me nervous, I grip his bare arm. As the noise increases and the flashing cameras block us, my grip gets tighter. "You're doing great, Mrs. Bianchi, let's strike a pose for the cameras," his voice soothes me. 

He pulls me close to him by my waist and my hands rest on his chest. His alluring hazel eyes pierce my soul and I feel weak to the knees. My heart beats fast. As he leans in, I rest my head on his chest, and the paparazzi go, "Aww..." I knew that he wanted us to kiss in front of the cameras, but I'm not ready. 

We enter the ballroom.

"Mr. Bianchi, a pleasure to see you here!"

"Oh, Mr. Bianchi is here, let's greet him."

"Mr. Bianchi!"

Ugh. Why are people treating him like he's a king? Sure, he's got money, and he's got a powerful aura, yeah okay that's why. I find myself some drinks, and sip on a glass of champagne as the people greet him. I see men and women alike talking to him like he's the lord. I guess the devil knows how to put on a disguise, huh?

A man with blue eyes and super fair skin approaches me. "Hello there, Mrs. Bianchi," his voice has a unique accent. "Hi," I say. "Mr. Bianchi is one lucky man, huh?" He asks. Damn right he is, but I have to be the “ideal” wife so, I say, "Oh, no I think that I am the lucky one." 

"Amber, darling, let's dance," Alessandro pulls me away from the man. His arms tighten around my waist. "That hurts, Alessandro!" I whisper. He grips me even tighter as he leads me to the center of the dance floor filled with couples, and asks, trying to mock me, "Better?" I try to escape his grasp, but he's too strong.

"What do you want, Alessandro?" I ask while keeping a straight face. He says, "Your attention." I roll my eyes and say, "I'm sure that there are plenty of people willing to give that to you, free of cost." After spinning me around, he asks, "What will your attention cost me?" I say, "It's not up for sale."

"Don't talk to that man again," he grits through his teeth. "Aww, why? Is the big bad mob boss jealous?" I ask making sure that I annoy him. He says, "That's Santino Martino. My biggest rival. If you are seen talking to him, then my men will be suspicious of you." Okay. I exclaim, "Great!" We move in sync for a few more minutes.

As the lights dim, I push him away. 

He makes his way back to me after a few seconds, I grip his arm, and something liquid-like wets my palm. As I bring my palm close to my face, I realize that it is blood. "What happened Alessandro?!" I squeaked. He said, "You tell me." Oh, I did that.

I say, "I'm so sorry." He asks, "What for?" I reply saying, "Um...For digging my nails into your arm and making it bleed?" He chuckles and says, "That's not what you should be sorry for." I express my confusion. 

Alessandro takes me to the balcony of the large pompous hall. "Why didn't you kiss me?" He asks. "I wasn't ready," I say as I wrap his bleeding arm with my handkerchief. "Stop it!" His authoritative tone spills out. I don't listen to him and tend to his wound. I say, "I made a mistake, so I will fix it."

I lean in close to him, my heels were not high enough to reach his lips. So, he gripped my back and pulled me close to him. I give him a peck on his cheek, and say, "There, I fixed it." He lifted one of his brows and I blew a kiss as I walked past the hidden paparazzi. He smiled, and it expressed how impressed he was. 

I make my way back to the dance floor. These events are the ones that Sasha used to talk about. My father never really bothered to invite me to these. Gretchen said that I was far from the classy standards that these places asked for. My eyes find the paintings stuck to the wall on a level above the ground. My legs instinctively walk me toward it. 

Woah, these canvas paintings are on another level. Impressive. I click a few pictures of all six of them hanging on the vast wall. “If you’re ever lost, I know exactly where I will find you,” Alessandro’s husky voice draws me back to reality. “You know what's unique about this painting?” I asked him pointing my finger at one of them, “It might display a man holding an umbrella, but if you look at it from here,” I move to a spot far away from the painting, “It appears as though it is a monkey eating something,” I lie to him. 

He stands in my spot and says, “I don’t see it..” I laugh out loud. He stares at me. “I was just kidding, it is a simple noir art about a man walking in the rain,” I say while still laughing. He walks away without saying anything. Jeez, okay, excuse me for trying to be funny.

I follow him downstairs and clutch onto his arm as he talks to “important” people. It is 8 p.m., just an hour more of this and then, I’ll be in my fluffy bed. The men and women chuckle in sync at Alessandro’s words. He’s not even saying anything funny. The bartender keeps on filling their cups. I laugh for the sake of it, but I don’t take a single sip of the drink.

“Amber?” A cold shiver bolts down my spine as I hear those words. I turn around to face him, Pietro Williams.