Page 58 of Twisted Minds of Sin

First stop.

“Thank you,” I throw at the beach blonde store attendant in a skimpy black dress and walk out of the store, now wearing a navy-blue tux and black dress shoes. I didn't even notice I was barefoot until I got here.

I was seething all through my drive down to New York and I doubt my teeth and fingers can still function because of how hard I've been clenching them. It's not that my mood is better, it's just that being in New York close to her feels less stifling than being hours’ drive away from her.

I get into my car and head for the location of the wedding. I'm a lot of things right now. J ealous, pissed, angry, heart-fucking broken, the list is fucking endless. I turn my car on and drive into the streets of New York hoping the damn traffic will let me get to my destination on fucking time.

Next stop.

I'm not about the niceties or the glamor outside the venue of Romano and Giada’s wedding. Especially when my work has been narrowed down and Rosaline is just by the door of the entrance, trying to get past the puffy bodyguard, Christopher, alone. No male friend with benefits beside her. Which is a good thing because, I swear to the fucking devil, I would have done something I won't regret.

I inhale sharply and put on my armor of flashy smile and carefreeness as I walk to her. She is still in the black and white dress from earlier and it's so easy to single her out as the odd unwanted one in the sea of elegance and grandeur. Not to say she doesn’t look elegant even looking out of place.

Everything and everyone become a blur and the salutations thrown my way are received with a smile and occasional nods. I never take my focus off her until I close the distance.

I place my palm on her lower back, “Relax, I'm here now,” I lean in and whisper to her, “She is with me,” I say to Christopher and press my palm possessively on her lower back and she stiffens.

Christopher smiles at me, “Benedetto.”

“Hey, Christopher,” I smile back.

“She is your date?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” I confirm again, never faltering with my smile and not missing the person now turning rod-stiff under my touch.

Christopher makes way for us and we walk into the venue.

Seeing how I turned from the thought of losing her to another today, I'm in deep more than I fucking thought.

Her damn luck, because now, I'm not letting her leave my sight.

I'm keeping her.

Chapter Eighteen

ROSE

This is the point I need to ask myself, what was I thinking? How is it possible that I had thought of coming down here but somehow my fried brain omitted the part that Benedetto would’ve been on the guest list?

He followed Romano around like a dog when I was engaged to him, so it's was nearly impossible not to meet him here. He would have to be six feet under, which in all fairness I wish he was, seeing how my father’s body is about to be sent there.

I swallow nervously, feeling my once firm bones begin to quake as his hand on the small of my back circles to the side of my waist. He grabs me to himself, holding me too tightly, as if he wants me to fuse with him at the hips.

His presence is both frightening and comforting, and I shamelessly find myself heaving a sigh of relief and leaning into his arms. It's strange how hearing his voice almost made me teary, like I was hoping somehow at the back of my mind that hewould show up, even though I never wanted to give that thought the light of day.

“Relax, I'm here now,” Benedetto leans in and whispers in my ear. I don't like how his scent, his hold, or his hoarse voice are making me liquefy.

He proceeds to talk to the bodyguard he calls Christopher. He was no doubt about to pull me by my hair and toss me out of the venue if Benedetto hadn't shown up.

I had thought this day couldn't get any worse when I ran out of Carlos’ apartment. I just wanted to get into this venue, find a way to meet with some of my friends, and get any help I could get. But getting here it felt like they all had had a secret meeting and concluded that nobody should speak to me, or offer me help.

They stood by and watched me try for almost an hour, the disapproval on their faces for my outfit and presence obvious. This is all making me reevaluate my life. I'm thinking more deeply about what is truly the essence of having that many friends and expanding my circles if I cannot find one to count on in a time like this.

I might have been a spoiled brat but I wasn't the worst friend to have. I took friends I had in my circle close to heart because of how lonely my life had been with my father and brother, who never seemed interested in my company, and then a fiancé that I could barely have a conversation with.

But now, I see it was all me. I thought I had friends but they never considered me one. Or maybe I never built any solid connection with any of them that transcended feeble materialistic things. I wonder if Romano would forsake Benedetto like this? Seeing that he got invited to the wedding, with his respect still intact, Romano would never, not even after Benedetto decided to take me to Boston. Orazio wouldn't even conceive the idea of forsaking him. But this also leaves me to think about the fact that their loyalty and friendship must be a result of something that Benedetto does to keep the friendship going.

Christopher unhooks the red velvet queue rope and we walk into the ritzy setting of the wedding. Familiar faces with scowls and disapproving furrows on their foreheads glare at us, but Benedetto holds me tighter and I absorb some of his confidence.

---