Chapter 2 Reception!
|| Author's Pov ||
The grand chandelier in the Volcov mansion sparkled like a cascade of diamonds, casting light over the polished marble floors and elegantly dressed guests.
Music floated through the air, a gentle inviting waltz as laughter and soft conversations filled the hall. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration, a moment of joy after a month of turbulence in the Volcov household.
Alice’s heart raced as she descended the grand staircase, every eye drawn to her. She wore a flowing gown of ivory silk, delicate lace tracing the curves of her shoulders.
Her hair cascaded in soft waves, glinting under the chandelier. She felt as though she were walking on clouds, yet each step was heavy with uncertainty.
Guests whispered, their expressions a mix of admiration and awe. “She looks like an angel,” someone murmured. “Absolutely breathtaking.”
Even servants paused, silently acknowledging the presence of the newlywed bride. Yet, for all their admiration, one person remained detached, her husband, Nick.
He lounged at the edge of the dance floor, mask-like expression hiding any flicker of interest. Alice’s chest tightened. She had hoped for even the smallest glance, the tiniest flicker of pride or affection, but he remained aloof.
The evening pressed on with polite conversation and warm laughter, but Alice’s heart had a quiet ache. She smiled faintly when compliments reached her, but her eyes often drifted to Nick, hoping for a trace of attention he refused to give.
When the music shifted to a slow waltz, it was time for couples to take the floor. Alice’s chest constricted.
She had hoped her husband would ask for a dance, as custom demanded. Instead, she watched, stunned, as Nick extended his hand to a woman in a sparkling red dress.
The sight froze her. The woman leaned into him, laughing at something he whispered. Nick’s hand rested lightly on her waist, their movements perfectly in sync.
Alice’s hands tightened on the edges of her gown. Her lips parted, but no sound emerged. Her heart fractured with every turn they made across the floor. Guests murmured around her, some with curiosity, others with mild admiration for the audacity of the couple but Alice could hear nothing except the hollow echo of her own heartbreak.
Martha, standing nearby felt the tension in the room. Her hand pressed lightly to her lips, masking the shock she felt seeing her son. Yet she held herself, knowing that discretion was paramount tonight.
Tristian was standing by the entrance, observed silently. His dark eyes never left Alice. He noted how her shoulders slumped, how her gaze followed Nick with a mix of sorrow and disbelief. Each subtle tremor of her lips told him exactly what she was feeling, and anger slowly coiled in his chest.
Tristian stepped forward, approaching her with measured, deliberate steps.
“May I have this dance?”
He asked, voice low, calm, yet carrying a weight of authority that made her turn toward him. Meanwhile Martha sighed in relief. “Thank god, Tristian you are here. Look at what your brother is doing!” She spat glancing at Nick, who’s glambing with another woman instead his wife.
Silence!
“I’m waiting... little woman.”
Alice's eyes lifted at his direction as she saw him forwarding his hands for her. Her head slowly pulled up, before her eyes met with his. A different type of emotion clutched her fragile heart!
Alice blinked, heart thudding. “I don’t-” she began, her voice trembling.
Martha, noticing the hesitation, smiled gently. “Alice, go. Accept him. Just… dance.”
With a hesitant nod, Alice placed her hand in Tristian’s. His grip was firm but gentle, his presence steady and comforting. He led her to the dance floor, the room seemed to blur around them. The music rose in soft waves, and Alice’s eyes threatened to spill tears, but she held them back, her eyes were still on her husband.
A playful smirk appeared over Tristian's delicate lips, he knows how to play a game better than anyone.
His rough hand stretched up before softly, gently grasping her cheeks and pulling her face towards him, making her eye on him, only him.
“What are you looking at? Don’t look at there.”
Her heart bubbled at his soft words. Her eyes stared at him with full of innocence.
Why heart beating in a different rhythm today? She asked herself.
“When you’re with me, your eyes should be on mine.” he whittled out in his deep seductive voice. Alice glanced away and his voice reached her again “Are you comfortable with me?”
Alice nodded her head looking at his eyes as if she was lost somewhere, nowhere but his eyes. He shortly looked at her before whispering. “Just relax, little lady.” he inhaled her sweet scent.
“You look beautiful tonight.” Tristian praised. Alice couldn't help but feel her heart racing at his deep voice.
They moved slowly, a careful rhythm that spoke of protection and quiet understanding. Alice’s chest heaved as the ache in her heart remained, but in that moment, she felt a strange safety, a small relief in the shadow of her humiliation. Tristian’s gaze never left her face, steady and unwavering, almost as though he were silently promising that no one would hurt her again tonight.
The dance ended too soon. Guests clapped politely, unaware of the storm that had passed over the young bride’s heart. Tristian nodded once, subtly, and guided her back toward the edges of the hall, ensuring she was safe from prying eyes or unwanted attention.
Later, as the party drew toward its quieter moments, Tristian made Alice sit somewhere and made his way upstairs. His boots clicked against the polished steps, a steady rhythm that matched the thoughts churning in his mind.
Tristian paused midway, catching a faint sound coming from the kitchen, hushed whispers, the shuffle of feet.
Curiosity and instinct drove him down the hall. He entered the kitchen, silent as a shadow. And there, in the soft glow of the overhead light, he saw it.
His eyes hardened in shock. Anger flashed into his eyes at the unpleasant sight before him.