Page 98 of Guarded

I look out the window to find a crowd of people lining up outside the capitol. Any privacy I had before has now died completely. Reporters stand outside like hungry vultures.

Being an influencer already gave people a glimpse into the life I projected and wanted the world to see, but this was something different. Marrying into the Cuevas family gave the world full access to me.

As we get closer, I see a large crowd of protestors chanting. One sign in particular catches my attention.

KEEP RAPIST OUT OF CONGRESS

The limo moves quickly before I can make out all the signs or the protestors. I know little about Preston’s role in politics. The word politics in itself made me queasy.

“Barbie has entered the building,” Jasper says into the headset before Louie stops the limo and the door flies open.

Jasper walks in front of me while Nero places a hand on my back and ushers me forward. Reporters flood the entire capitol and blurt out questions. I keep my eyes on Jasper, following him through the crowd.

The media outlets had gushed over my retro outfit choices, so I used that as my advantage in this world. Today’s outfit was a sleeveless pink plaid dress that stopped mid-thigh. White knee-high boots matched the dress’s white collar and tie. I added a pink headscarf as an ode to the iconic Marilyn Monroe.

My wardrobe was expanding. Preston sent me a black AmEx card with a note that said, “Keep capturing the media.”

Since we went public with our relationship, the polls have quickly shifted in his favor. Things have also turned in my favor. I have new brand deals covering everything from workout wear to dog accessories. Soon, I will be able to afford my own studio.

Fostering a fake enamored smile, I meet the son of Satan making his way to me down the capitol steps. The crowd goes wild when Preston pulls me in and kisses me on the cheek. Threading my fingers through his with my left hand, I use my right hand to wave at the bystanders as we move through the crowd.

We take the assigned seats behind a podium when we reach the top of the capitol steps. Preston introduces me to the couples surrounding us. I keep a tight smile and shake everyone’s hand. We greet a younger woman. I’m guessing, like me, she’s in her early twenties. The man next to her looks much older. A hefty man with a cane.

“Scott Paxton, this is Ariella Reyes,” Preston says. I place my hand in Scott’s, and he squeezes it tightly.

“Welcome to the shit show,” Scott whispers before releasing his grip.

Scott Paxton is the first to take to the podium when the campaign begins. I quickly find out he’s running for Criminal Appeal court judge. I sit through his entire speech about why he is the one for this position and how he’s going to make Texas Great Again before I zone out.

I look out into the crowd and see Nero standing by the steps, his back to me as he scans the crowd. Catching myself gazing a little too long, I revert my eyes to my hand resting in Preston’s.

I go through the motions of what I assume is the behavior expected from me. I look at the woman who was seated next to Judge Paxton. She’s definitely out of the man’s league, but I can tell by the designer dress and shoes that he provides something for her in return. Who was I to judge?

I mimic her behavior- sitting up straight, my legs crossed, a tight smile, and a light three-finger tap into my palm after each speech.

This goes on and on until I’ve sung the Twelve Days of Christmas around twenty times in my head. Finally, Preston takes the podium. Despite my desire to check on Nero, I focus adoringly on Preston.

“Before we begin, I’d like to say, doesn’t this woman look absolutely stunning?” he outstretches a hand to me, and the crowd cheers. I smile and wave as Preston calms the crowd down.

“Don’t be shy, Ariella. Come say hi to these kind people.” He says into the mic.

For a brief moment, I can see the infatuation with him. His light brown eyes were charming and kind. Confidence oozed from him. Truthfully, I looked good next to him.

We looked good together. Why should I judge him from the one time I saw him behind a dumpster? Hell, I might have even been slightly turned on by it. Maybe in time, we could satiate each other’s dark desires.

Walking to the podium, I stand next to Preston. He drops to his knee, holding the mic in one hand, as he reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a ring.

I gasp the most actress-worthy gasp I can muster up. Bringing my hands to cover my mouth before dropping them to my heart, I sell the surprised engagement look. This better be captured on the front cover of every Texas newspaper.

“Ariella, would you do me and these fine people the honor of becoming the next great councilman of Texas’s wife?” he looks up adoringly. Our improv is impressive. The crowd eats it up, screaming and hollering.

He slides on a large 18k white gold Bellagio ring, and I stare at the diamond. I ignore the feeling curdling in my stomach and the weighted stare I can feel from the steps below. Focusing on the performance, I shake my head yes and wipe away the fake tears.

The crowd cheers. Preston threads his fingers in mine and lifts our joined hands in the air. We face the crowd and cameras who are capturing the moment. A familiar face catches my eye in the crowd.

It’s the cop talking with Nero at the bottom of the steps. I blink to make sure I’m not seeing things, but it’s him. Officer Greyson, the piece of shit who groped Genesis and me when Cassiel kidnapped us. I’m forced to look away when the crowd’s loud cheering is replaced with screams.

Two shots fire from out of nowhere. One hits the podium, while the other hits Scott Paxon in the head. I scream as Preston pushes me in front of him. Using my body as a shield before running off behind me.

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