Chapter 66 Sixty Six
AMELIA XAVIER
Love was a crazy thing and so was uncertainty and over-confidence, it had a way of blowing in your face, and sometimes even going as far as making you feel like a hopeless coward — but I was not.
The feeling of having to face your enemy because he had something on you felt infuriating, and I somehow though subconsciously wished for the earth to take me in, but that meant choosing the coward's way to freedom.
Moral lesson of the story; respect your goddamn self, don't always do as you're told and be very unpredictable.
Whatever all that meant.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, my dress, although not my type, looked good on me, and it did a great job in hiding my protruding stomach.
My hands rubbed my belly, and I looked at how it grew so far. It seemed pretty normal, but I guessed the baby didn't want to go to the party either.
My poor little sweetheart.
“I'm tired of these appearances I have to make,” I muttered to myself, glancing at the mirror one more time before heading out to meet Owen Winters.
My Winter.
He stood outside by the car, his hands in his pockets and he leaned on the car. His expression looked dark, but when he sighted me, he waved, smiling like I just made his night.
Damn pretence — we weren't happy with the way things went, but it was just a phase.
Wasn't it?
“Why do you look smug, pumpkin?” He asked when I reached where he stood. His hands easily slid to my waist. My waist easily recognized this hand, and it fitted perfectly with his large frame.
“I'm tired of all these appearances, even the baby wants to take a break,” I complained, and for half a second, I saw his eyes flash with uncertainty of whether I should have left Paris or stuck with him.
He smiled.
“This would probably be the last appearance, and if that bastard wants something else, I'll just have his head and end all this war nonsense,” he reassured me, and once again I felt safe.
The Winters had their way with words.
“Let's go, sweetheart. I'm ready for anything,” I said and we kissed briefly before he opened the car door for me to enter.
Unlike a normal mafia, or crime family party, this one seemed pretty abnormal and way too suspicious. But then again, although Ash was a moron, he still had self dignity — he was a Winters anyway.
The hall sat in the shadows, with only a few bulbs for lighting, and the minute Owen and I stepped in, few of the bulbs died.
“If this is a party, then I won't be staying for it,” I muttered to him, but he chuckled as if he knew this would happen.
“You're laughing? Is this some kind of joke to you, Owen?” I continued. Everything seemed suspicious. These weren't just renowned mafia families, but thugs — their dressing told them off, and the way they sat drinking their wine… spirit as though the world was to end this night.
“Don't worry, my princess, they know who they're dealing with.” I scoffed, but his words held all the seriousness in the world.
I liked this.
“You came!” Someone said from behind, and we didn't need the news or anyone to tell us before knowing it was that moron, Ash Winters.
“And I see you brought my little woman with you.”
“I'm not anything to you,” I snarled, my eyes flashing with sheer rage and pure disdain.
Owen held me, and I calmed down allowing him to speak to Ash.
“I also see that you invited your real family, they seem-” he looked around and smirked.
“Friendly and useless.”
Knives unsheathed, mouths growled, eyes glared, oh and someone rushed towards him, but before he could hit us, Owen threw him on the ground with a swing of his hand, and his own knife stuck to his heart. Blood spurted all over the place decorating the place crimson red.
I shuddered with realization that this man… my man exuded the character of a chameleon, he blended in easily to any circumstance, and his survival strategy was indecipherable.
“Don't spoil the fun, some noble families are here even the press,” Ash muttered smiling deviously. That's when I noticed the people at the gallery, they watched in amusement at Owen's skill, and as the camera flashed, Owen stood behind me so it wouldn't capture my face.
“Hide your face, Amelia,” he said, his words came out bland although I knew he called me by my name so new interest wouldn't spark.
I nodded, and allowed him to handle this man.
Ash seemed to have guessed what we were at because he targeted me. “My little woman, you're so beautiful tonight, do you mind if we dance?”
He clapped and the light's came on, music started to play. I finally took in the hall, it seemed nice, and the colour of blood and gold blended so well. Wait, colour of blood… calm down, Amelia.
“I mind, Mr Winters. I'm not really in good state for such trivial things like dancing especially since it's with you,” I retorted which brought about murmurs and low laughs.
Ash shrugged, and inched closer to me. The thought of the last time we met flashed in my memory. The way he handled the knife, the way he moved so swiftly and the look in his face when he raised the knife at me.
Be strong, Amy.
“It's rude to force yourself on someone and considered assault since I don't want you or anyone at all,” I said and Owen side glanced at me, but didn't say a word.
“She doesn't want to. Amelia, it's best we leave, so as not to cause further problems for Ash Winters,” Owen suddenly spoke up, but Ash thought differently.
“Let's spar. No, hand combat. Anyone who wins dances with the beautiful lady,” he sounded desperate and I bet Owen wanted to show off so he nodded and handed me his pistol, but kept his knife, just Incase.
“Should I go easy on you, or kick your ass till your tails get stuck in between your legs?” He asked.
I saw the l
ook in his face, and shuddered, but I watched with interest.
Owen smirked.
Ash scoffed.