Page 33 of The Bonventi Rise
Five minutes out.
My heart leaps into my throat. "Places, everyone!" I call out, my campaign manager voice cutting through the noise. "Phones ready, but remember, no flash photography until after the surprise."
I adjust my blazer and give myself one last look in the mirror. A local influencer catches my eye and waves. I wave back, already imagining the Instagram stories:Senator Candidate's Fiancée Throws Surprise Party - #RelationshipGoals #ChicagoPolitics.
"He's coming!" someone hisses from near the door.
"Lights!" I command.
The office plunges into darkness, and a hush falls over the crowd. I hold my breath, straining to hear Marco's footsteps in the hallway. In the darkness, I can almost pretend this is real—that I'm surprising a man I genuinely care for.
The door handle turns, and I push those dangerous thoughts aside.
But as the door swings open and Marco's silhouette appears, backlit by the hallway lights, I can't quite squash the little flutter in my chest. Damn him and his stupidly perfect jawline.
"SURPRISE!" I yell with the others as the room erupts into cheers and popping party favors as the lights flick on and music starts playing.
Marco's face is a picture of genuine shock for a split second before that trained smile slides into place—all warmth and charm as he laughs and waves to the crowd.
Our eyes lock across the room, and he mouths a silent, "You?" at me. I can't help but smile at the question, feeling a rush of something. Pride? Affection? I don't know; it just feels good.
I watch as Marco makes his way through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging hugs. I just can't seem to tear my eyes away from him. He moves with an easy grace, his smile lighting up the room.
"Senator Bonventi, what's your stance on education reform?" a young reporter asks, notepad at the ready.
Marco's eyes light up. "I'm glad you asked," he says, launching into our carefully crafted response about increased funding and innovative teaching methods. I give him a subtle thumbs-up as he nails every talking point.
The questions keep coming, each one softer than the last. It's exactly what we wanted—a chance for Marco to shine without any real pressure. I sip my champagne, savoring the bubbles on my tongue and the sweet taste of success.
Marco's response is smooth as silk, emphasizing accessibility and affordability. I feel a warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with the champagne. This is what I live for—the thrill of a perfectly executed political strategy.
As I watch him, I can't help but admire the way his suit hugs his broad shoulders, the way his eyes crinkle slightly when he smiles. I shake my head, trying to clear those thoughts.
"Thank you, thank you. Now I have one question," Marco says, his voice carrying across the room. "Where's my beautiful fiancée? I think it's time we thanked her for this amazing surprise."
My heart leaps into my throat, and I almost choke on my champagne as all eyes turn to me. Marco's gaze finds mine, and he extends his hand, beckoning me over. My legs move of their own accord, carrying me through the crowd.
As I reach him, Marco's arm snakes around my waist, pulling me close. Before I can react, his lips are on mine. The kiss is deep, passionate, nothing like the pecks we've shared for the cameras before. It's like being struck by lightning, every nerve in my body coming alive at once.
The crowd cheers and whistles, but I barely hear them. All I can focus on is the heat of Marco's body against mine, the taste of him on my lips. It's intoxicating, overwhelming, and suddenly I'm aware of my hands in his hair and his hands venturing below my waist. We're clearly caught up in the moment, maybe a little too much.
"Guys, are you seeing this? One of these days, I better have me a man that kisses me like that," an influencer says through her ring light into her camera phone.
When we finally break apart, I'm breathless, my head spinning.
"Alina's brilliance has transformed this campaign," Marco says, his voice carrying that hint of pride that makes my chest tight. "Her strategic mind is unparalleled, but more importantly, she reminds me every day why we're fighting for Chicago's future."
There are some cheers, and Marco nods his head.
"Yes, that's right. And, of course, thank you for this amazing surprise. It's just wonderful, honey."
There's more cheering, and Marco leans in and pecks me on the lips again. "Thanks, Firefly."
When he pulls back, I finally feel my skin burning everywhere he touched.
God help me, I'm in trouble.
My cheeks hurt from smiling as another reporter asks about Marco's infrastructure plans. The party is going perfectly well, and suddenly, I hear someone call my name.
