Page 36 of Sexted By a Stranger
The voices outside dispersed. I returned to the hall. Luca was conversing with someone.
I'd barely moved forward when a streak of crimson blocked my path—a woman in a fire-red low-cut gown, with cascading curls and scarlet lips, like a dangerous flame.
She swirled her champagne, voice not loud but clear enough for half the surrounding circle to hear perfectly. "Well, well, look who it is? The stripper from Celestial—did you really think borrowing a haute couture gown would turn you into a noble lady??"
She sneered, gaze like a blade scraping from top to bottom. "Can't even hold a wine glass properly, right? This outfit on you is simply a waste of fabric."
She leaned close, enunciating each word. "Cinderella stories are just fairy tales. You don't deserve to stand beside him."
Humiliation, anger, and the mortification of being publicly stripped bare drowned me like a tide.
A scorching flame rose from my heart. I lifted my chin slightly, about to retort.
"Avery."
Luca's arm circled my waist, pulling me back without question, protectively enclosing me in the shelter of his tall frame.
"I warned you," his voice wasn't loud but carried suffocating pressure that made everyone around hold their breath, "watch your mouth. Seems you've turned a deaf ear to my words."
Avery's arrogant flames instantly froze, undisguised fear flashing through her eyes, lips trembling. "Luca, I was just—"
"She's with me." Luca cut her off decisively, each word clear, penetrating every pricked ear. "One more word, Avery, and I'll make you wish you were mute. Get lost."
Avery swayed, blood draining from her face. She shot me a venomous glare but hastily lowered her head when meeting Luca's cold gaze, stumbling away in her heels, disappearing wretchedly into the crowd.
The air seemed to flow again. Those prying gazes quietly retreated, becoming cautious and evasive. Luca's arm around my waist not only didn't loosen but tightened further. He lowered his head, warm breath brushing my hair, voice low. "It's alright, Sheila."
Luca casually took two glasses filled with deep ruby liquid, handing one to me. The crystal walls refracted enticing light.
"Have a drink to calm your nerves."
I took the glass and sipped.
A cold berry tartness instantly exploded on my tongue, followed by a pungent, almost antiseptic burn shooting up my nose.
My brows scrunched violently, my whole face unconsciously crumpling. "This tastes like disinfectant!"
God. What was I saying? At a dinner party like this, about wine from a top vineyard.
Embarrassment instantly drowned me, cheeks burning.
But a brief breath of laughter sounded by my ear.
Luca looked at me, lips irrepressibly curving up, eyes full of amused delight.
"Then don't drink it." He placed the glass back on the server's tray.
With a slight gesture, a server approached with two glasses of soft pink-gold wine.
I sipped again—sweet, light, like early summer cherries just burst.
The whole glass slid down my throat, warmth slowly rising after. Cheeks simmered on low heat, blood beginning to swirl lazily. The crystal chandelier's halo spread in layers, and even Luca's outline gained soft edges.
His voice pressed against my ear, drilling in but sticking mushily in my brain, impossible to untangle.
The marble floor suddenly lost its hardness. My fingertips unconsciously hooked his suit sleeve.
Luca looked down, fingertips brushing aside a strand of hair dampened by fine sweat on my cheek, movements gentle.
