Page 18 of The Bonventi Rise
As I head to the bedroom to sort through the boxes of clothes, I think to myself,
Do I wear that red dress or not?
11
ALINA
Ilean closer to the mirror, carefully applying the final swipe of my lipstick. A sharp knock at the door startles me, making me smudge it slightly.
"Shit," I mutter, reaching for a tissue. "Coming!" I call out, quickly blotting the excess color.
I give myself one last look in the mirror, smoothing down the front of the form-fitting dress as I turn from side to side. I smile and have to admit, I look pretty damn good.
Turns out, this is the perfect outfit for a political "couple's" first public appearance.
Another knock, more insistent this time.
"I said I'm coming!" I snap, grabbing my clutch and walking to the door. I yank it open, ready to give the driver a piece of my mind for being so impatient.
But it's not the driver.
Marco stands there, impeccably dressed in a tailored black suit that makes his broad shoulders look even more impressive. His dark eyes rake over me, and I feel heat radiating up my neck.
"You're early," I manage to say, my voice sounding breathy even to my own ears.
He smiles, clearly enjoying my flustered state. "Well, I wanted to give you these," he says, then holds up a stunning bouquet of red and white roses. "A little housewarming gift."
I take the flowers, inhaling their sweet scent. "Wow," I breathe, "No one's ever bought me flowers before."
The moment the words leave my mouth, I want to take them back. I'm worried I sound too pathetic, too... I don't know—but not like how I want to be viewed. But when I look up at Marco, there's no mockery in his eyes. Instead, there's only curiosity.
"Well, we'll change that, Firefly," he says, his voice low and deep.
I swallow hard, suddenly very aware of how close we're standing. "Um, come in," I say, stepping back. "I just need to put these in water."
Marco follows me into the apartment, his presence filling the space in a way that makes it feel smaller, more intimate. I hurry around the kitchen, looking for a vase, anything to put the flowers in, but most of my stuff is still in boxes.
"It's all starting to come together," he comments, glancing around at the half-unpacked boxes. "Starting to feel like home?"
I laugh, maybe a bit too sharply. "Home? I'm not sure I even know what that means anymore."
Marco raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"
I sigh, arranging the flowers in a large glass decanter I'd forgotten I owned. "It's nothing. Just, the line of work I'm in—moving around is a thing I do—then there's this whole situation. It's a lot to process."
He steps closer, and I can smell his cologne. "Do you still have any worries?"
"No," I say quickly. "I mean, maybe? I don't know. Governor Harrison's scandal, our fake engagement, I constantly feel that I'm one wrong move away from losing everything," I say, looking at the flowers.
"Alina," Marco says, making me turn to face him. "You're not going to lose anything. I promised you protection, and I meant it. You're untouchable now. Please don't worry about any of that shit. The only thing that should be on your mind moving forward is me," he says with a smile, "and my campaign."
I force a smile. There's something else that I'm not voicing, something that's buried deep in my subconscious, but it's making itself known: What if I'm not worth it?
What if I can't do it? What if we don't win? He's done God knows what to clear my name and save me from a career-ending event, but what if all this trouble he's gone through for me is for nothing?
"Oh, I've got something else for you," Marco says, breaking me from my thoughts. I see him pull a box out of his pocket, and my heart drops.
"Can't claim you're my fiancée without a ring, now can I? That's the first thing the public will look for."
