Chapter 33 Thirty Three
The amount of security that surrounded the massive hall was alarming and the drones looked more like swarms of bees in the sky. Nothing was meant to go wrong.
Everything was perfect — except that the media were uninvited guests.
Weren't they always? They rushed towards the building threatening to break in, but the security proved to be stronger… they should be if they wanted to go home with their heads on their necks.
“After years of being alone, Dylan Xavier decides to get married…”
“Is this the beginning of a new life?”
“Does this marriage mark an importance in the life of the Xavier's?!”
“Why did Dylan Xavier choose this same hall he married his late wife in? What significance…”
Yes.
The massive hall meant a lot to Dylan which meant he was rewriting his story, but with a different ink and a different mindset. The hall was historic and had a solid and well designed exterior. The interior was fascinating.
The hall was dark and the only light were the crystal chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling. It reflected its light to the whole room creating a dreamy but fancy atmosphere. Flowers beautified the aisle and every table decorated based on each mafia family colour which of course were mostly dark colours and a touch of white. The floor was covered with white and black rose; white to the left and black to the right. The flowers found its way to the large podium where the bride and groom were to stand. The large TV at the top of the wall showed the two, Annie and Dylan holding hands while lying in the snow.
The atmosphere felt pleasant. Snow fell calmly outside as the sun slowly melted the ice on the trees. Happiness hung in the air as people trooped into the hall; the Winters, the former house of Xavier, the Rodriguez… . Not long after, the room was filled with various crime families and important persons. Most of their talks were mostly business as they waited patiently for the event to start. Drinks were being served and the hall was hearty and as expected, lively.
Dangerous but protected.
No one could start a fight because they all knew the importance of the event.
Annie sat in her dress room staring into the mirror, her face puffed up and eyes swollen with tears, her already made up face destroyed by the tears glistening from the lighting in the room. In all her life, she would never have believed she would end up with someone she actually loved. Someone who understood her and shared likeliness.
She wiped her mascara stained face with the back of her hand assuring herself that things would go well, anyhow. “Fuck! My face is all messed up now,” she murmured a curse and stood from the chair looking for the wipes. Annie sighed resting her back on the wall, just then, there was a knock at the door, Cammie and some other girls came into the room. She screamed upon seeing her friend's face. “What in the whole of this fucked up crime family is wrong with you?!” Annie raised her lips a little to form a smile, but it couldn't work on Cammie.
“Leave,” she told the other girls who stood beside her and they quietly left, shutting the door behind them.
Cammie stood there for a while watching her friend and trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Annie slid to the floor, her back to the wall and knees to her chin. Cammie came over and sat beside her placing a hand on her shoulder.
“I know you're scared, it's normal love and I bet Dylan is as nervous as you are,” she empathized, but only a shrug came as a response. “What's wrong? Are you scared he'll leave you?” Cammie asked, genuinely concerned. Annie opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came.
After what seemed like an hour, she spoke, “I'm not scared that he'd leave me on the altar or something.” Her hands clutched her knees tightly to her chest.
“Or this isn't what you want? We could cancel the…” Annie sniffed, making Cammie leave her statement incomplete.
“No. I want this. This is exactly what I want, but there's this feeling… I feel like something serious might happen. They always do!” Annie sobbed, her face stained from fresh tears.
Cammie kissed her friend's wet cheeks. “It's going to be fine. You're no longer the Annie Gregory of before but Annie Xavier and from what I've heard, Xavier's are so fucking strong. You should be.” Relief washed over her, but soon, worry clouded her face once again. “What if someone stabs me with a knife or shoots a gun at me -” she looked at Cammie, eyes wide from fear because these things were known to happen in a crime family wedding… in the movies. She continued, “- or even worse, what if someone throws an axe at me.” Annie bit her lips, her heart raced a little faster and every cell in her brain began working — anxiety and panic settled in.
Cammie let out a loud laugh revealing her diastema, when she noticed her friend's face, she turned serious. “I've not been with your man, Dylan Xavier to get to know him, but when I first saw him, I knew at the instant that he would do anything for you, and trust me, Annielle Xavier, that man is so in love with you that he wouldn't let anything go wrong,” she said calling her first name fully for the first time knowing no one knew her by that and also, half expecting to ease her friend's worry. It worked.
Annie looked at her friend with softness dancing in her eyes. “Are you sure?” She asked, loving the reassurance. “If you don't trust either me or Dylan then trust the fact that he is the fucking most feared mafia and I want your happiness -” Cammie jabbed her in the arm before speaking “- now let's redo your make-up and get you married… you don't want to leave your hot boyfriend standing alone on the altar. Mrs Xavier.” Annie blushed, her cheeks bright pink. Chuckling, she stood from the floor, moved to the dresser and sat letting her friend do her hair.
Cammie was right, everything would go just fine.
Amy stood before the large mirror already dolled up, her hair packed in a ponytail and a light make-up on her face. She couldn't believe that after so many years, her father would fall in love so much he wanted to get married — he was getting married.
“Annie is going to be my mom soon, nothing should go wrong. Today is special for everyone,” she muttered to herself.
“Nothing can go wrong, Amelia,” a deep voice said softly behind her, she turned her neck so quickly that she feared it would have snapped if she went a little faster.
Owen Winters stood tall, his back resting on the wall, hands in his pocket and legs crossed, he wore a boyish grin and Amy silently wished she could slap that grin off his handsome face.
“What are you doing here? How long have you been standing there?!” She asked, turning to face him. Owen sighed, his eyes sparkled in the light. “Calm down, Amy, one question at a time,” he answered walking towards her and soon, he was standing a few metres away.
“For your second question, I've been here since you were being dressed up, but I guess you were so lost in thoughts or fantasy that you didn't notice me,” he said, taking long strides towards her and covering the little space between them. Amy gulped, she made to move, but her legs were stuck to the ground — they felt heavy as though they had metal shoes on them. She swallowed again and stared at his eyes. They were like the winter season, all blue and ice and it held something she couldn't decipher.
Nervousness? No sadness.
“And for your first question, sweetheart-”
Amy shuddered at the way he called her ‘sweetheart’.
“-we have a bet to settle,” he said, his voice a hushed whisper. Amy's face brightened as her lips slowly curled into a smile. “I won. We had a bet that if Annie married daddy, I'll ask something of you and I won!” She screamed happily remembering their bet.
Owen said Annie wouldn't survive, but she had countered him and now he owed her. Owen rolled his eyes, scratching the back of his head and waiting for Amy to say something. “What do you want from me?” He asked not moving even a cm away from her. His dark skin glowed in the light, his black turtleneck and blue suit jacket fitted him well. Amy tried to think of what she wanted from him, but nothing was coming. She had everything she ever wanted; a dad, a mom… a family.
“Do you have anything in mind?” He asked, interrupting her thoughts. Owen bit his lower lips waiting for her to speak, but she rolled her eyes and said nothing.
After a while, Amy hissed in frustration cussing her brain for forgetting everything she planned on making him do if she eventually won the bet — and she did.
She shrugged. “I guess I don't have anything in mind,” she said with disappointment plastered on her face. “Well I do have something,” Owen suggested.
Amy raised her eyes to look at him, his eyes brighter than the sullen look he had in his eyes. This time she knew what it held. Mischief.
“What is it?” She asked curiosity, threatening to tear her apart.
Owen smirked wantonly and without much hesitation, he pinned her to the wall crushing his lips on hers. Amy tried to push him away but gave up eventually surrendering to his warm gentle kiss.
After what seemed like a few minutes, he let her go, both trying to catch their breaths. “I'm a minor, fool,” she cursed her cheeks growing warm.
“Same, Amelia. We're both fucked up minors but that doesn't stop me from doing what I did,” he justified his actions staring at her face, then added, “You'll have to apply a little more gloss on your lips. I cleaned them.”
Amy turned bright pink, she couldn't hide her flushed cheeks.
“Why… Why did you even do that? Your father…”
“I can see what you want, Amelia. I know what you need, you know I'm a lot older than my age in reasoning,” he answered, his eyes holding hers. “And what exactly do I need?” She asked eager to hear his answer but a shrug came as a reply.
“I guess we'll see each other a little more often,” she said to him. The bright colours in Owen's eyes darkened like a storm at night. He sighed, “In leaving for Paris… I … I don't know when I'll come back.”
Amy's face fell, he was leaving immediately after the wedding. Without a moment to think, she wrapped her arms around him. “I'll come to Paris to find you, Owen,” she said though she knew within her that it was a promise. Amy didn't know how she was going to do it, it might take years before Dylan would let her go to Paris alone, one thing was sure, she would go to Paris to find him.
“I'll be waiting, Amelia Xavier,” he muttered and left without a word.
Amy sighed, but time was so precious that she had none left to think. Annie was getting married and she was late.
The event had started and the groom, Dylan, stood waiting for his bride, Annie. It was already late and the sun had fully melted ice bringing a warm, but wet sensation.
Dylan stood before the minister, cracking his knuckles so hard that it began to hurt. Where did Annie go? He tried not to think of the possibility of his bride being kidnapped at their wedding or even worse being axed on the head in her white dress.
He bit his lips hard and drew blood from it. He glanced at his ally, Mr Winters, he sometimes wished he could learn such patience and calmness that old man had. The quiet hall began murmuring and panic set in. He turned to walk out of the hall and find Annie, but Mr Winters stopped him.
“You know women, she's probably trying to get the right arcs or lip liner,” he said, making a bad attempt at calming Dylan, but he stayed anyway.
The old man was right, women were sometimes like that.
Suddenly the huge door to the hall flung open revealing Annie with Amelia and Cammie following behind. Dylan stared in awe at his soon to be wife, and agreed she had the sweetest and fanciest taste in clothes. Her white gown beaded with real diamonds was fitted in front with a slit reaching her thighs. The back of the dress spread itself to the ground dragging the flowers on the floor as she came to stand opposite him.
The light coming from outside made her look more radiant.
“You look stunning, milkweed,” Dylan whispered and she giggled sucking on her lower lips. “I'm scared,” Annie muttered, her cheeks getting hot. She shuffled her feet holding herself so as not to run away. The crowd fixed their eyes on them, judging and waiting for something wrong to happen, but she wasn't going to give them the luxury of laughing at her.
“Don't look at them, Annie, look at me,” he said in a light tone, noticing her body language. His light voice made her gaze into his eyes through the veil on her face, her focus only on him.
“Yes beautiful, stare at me all you want,” Dylan encouraged.
“Good day everyone, we are gathered here today to witness the union between…” the minister started.
That moment seemed slow, Dylan tried to make Annie chuckle while Annie tried so hard to hold her laugh. Amy kept glancing at Owen who not even once looked her way. She frowned, sucking her lips and holding the tears that kept forcing its way out her eyelids.
The crowd stayed silent alerting Annie. Dylan gave her an eye sign that the minister was talking to her.
“ Do you Annielle Gregory take thee, Dylan Xavier to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death you do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto you give thee your troth?”
Dylan glanced at her, shocked at her full name. “Annielle?” he asked quietly.
“Seems like you're not so good at your job, Mr Xavier,” she whispered before turning to the minister.
“Yes… yes I do,” she said, making Dylan smile. The full name issue forgotten, he was the happiest man on earth at the moment.
“Do you…” the minister continued impelling Dylan to be a bit more impatient. “Yes, I do,” he said and held Annie's hands removing her veil.
“The procession isn't over, Dylan,” Annie chuckled. “I don't care.”
Not waiting for the minister, he put his lips on Annie holding her waist to keep her from falling. They stood in the middle of the dimly lit hall kissing, Dylan on the white flower, Annie on the black. Two people with different personalities but shared the same fate.
It came as a single clap, then it increased… two… three and the thousands of people stood to their feet clapping and cheering for the newly wedded. The minister stood before then staring in shock, but soon began to clap.
It was rare to see a criminal this in love.
“You're toxic,” Annie said, gasping for breath. “Aren't we both toxic, I can't wait to get home, beautiful.” Annie grinned.
Everything was going just fine.
Amy sat inside wrapped in a blanket, staring into the night, her face, blank, but her brain was working. She kept calculating how long it would take before she could go to Paris.
“12 more years before I go to Paris,” she muttered, unconsciously pulling at her hair. The wedding went well and she was exhausted, but couldn't sleep. Owen probably booked the first flight to Paris and didn't care to say goodbye, but that was how he behaved. She couldn't blame him, because he had his own personal issues to settle — inheritance, colour, true blood… . They were all depressing.
“I'm meant to be happy, but I feel so weak right now. I'm a wreck!” She whimpered, tears pouring down her face without warning.
Amy pondered on whether to call him for the last time, but before she could think, she had dialed his number and called.
‘THIS NUMBER DOESN'T EXIST’ the phone blared.
This couldn't be happening to her, he had severed all connections with her, except her father, but then again it would take a very long time before she could finally see him. Anger rose in her chest ready to consume her. Amy threw the phone to the floor and it smashed, the screen turning black with ink.
“Twelve more years, Amelia.”
Annie lay in the snow as it fell softly to the ground. Beauty painted the night sky, the moon radiating its full energy to night.
Dylan lay beside her, squeezing her hands like his life depended on it. “So we're married?” He asked rhetorically. Annie chuckled and raised her upper body to lie on his. “Yes, we're married, sweetheart,” she replied, assuring him that he wasn't dreaming.
“Just months ago, you were a prisoner.” Annie laughed using her tongue to play with his lips. “I was never a prisoner, I felt so comfortable here and didn't want to leave even though I tried doing that once,” she said, chuckling at the thought of her running from him.
“Isn't this a good night to get warm in bed?” Annie suggested. Dylan rolled his eyes laughing. “Says the person who said I'm toxic”
“You are and this milkweed loves it!” Annie smeared his entire face with kisses.
“But I think it's a good night for that,” Dylan grinned boyishly, pushing her to the ground and locking her with his hands. He necked her, biting into her neck. “Woah, boy, not in the cold. Let's go inside,” Annie cautioned.
“I'll do it anywhere with you even in a burning house.”
Using all her strength, she pushed him off her and stood making a snowball. “I'll throw you this if you don't come inside!” She warned, raising her hands ready to toss him the snow.
“Try me, beautiful.”