Chapter 59 Russo
Birthday Party
It's inside a display case, and several others like it line the walls. There are also paintings hanging there. Some are signed by her, others, I think, were purchased.
Her love of art is a clear difference between us. It's never particularly bothered me, and I haven't tried to understand it. But she seems to do it deeply. I'm still watching when I feel a presence behind me.
I slowly turn and see none other than Kiara. She doesn't even try to hide her dislike for me. It shines in the glint of her eyes.
"Hello," I say.
"Save the pleasantries," she says, raising her hand. Her gaze slides from my face to my attire, a black three-piece suit. "You knew about the dress code, didn't you, brother-in-law?"
Her tone is harsh as she calls me her brother-in-law.
I shrug. Roman informed me it was an all-white party. I glance at her white dress with a slight smile. "I don't wear white. It's bad for my reputation, cousin."
It's funny how we're already calling ourselves by such family names, even though I'm not even family yet.
"And what kind of reputation would that be? Because, sadly, it seems no one knows anything about you. And you're planning to marry one of my best friends." She said.
"You'll find out about me in due time, Kiara," I assure her. "In the meantime, I'd like to meet my future wife."
She grins. "Good luck with that. Rose may be kind and have the biggest heart in the world, but even she wouldn't be okay if she were sold into marriage."
"Discuss it with your Roman, not me," I mutter.
"Of course. But there are some things beyond my control," she says sadly. "If you harm her, I..."
"I've heard enough threats, thank you," I say, interrupting her.
She frowns. "I really don't like you."
"Things change," I said.
She rolls her eyes and walks toward the back of the house, where the party is taking place. I should follow her, but my feet somehow remain planted in front of the sculptures. A few seconds later, I'm rewarded when I hear footsteps descending the steps.
I turn, and Rose appears. Something inside me freezes at the sight of her. She truly is beautiful. Like a rose. She's aptly named. Beautiful and fragile. I wouldn't want to break her, but I'm not sure I know how not to.
Her dark hair flows past her shoulders, and she's wearing a white dress that reaches mid-thigh. It's simple and understated, but the way it hugs every curve of her body is a sight to behold.
I've always loved adding a little heft to women. Rosa's body is so full, I can't wait to hug her. Her gaze is fixed on her phone as she descends, her high heels clicking on the shiny, light brown steps. She's almost at the bottom when her head finally lifts, and her eyes meet mine.
She inhales, and her blue eyes widen. For a moment, we simply stare at each other. Then her eyes narrow, and she turns around. I move immediately, climbing the stairs. My hands tighten around her wrist before she can even get to her feet. I tug gently.
"Hey," I say.
She turns around, though reluctantly. "What do you want?"
I smile, amused. "That's hardly the way to talk to your future husband."
Her gaze sharpens, and she pulls her hand away. "Listen, I already agreed to marry you. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to submit to every moment in your presence right now. I can live with all of this. So, could you please leave me alone?"
I pretend to think about it for a moment, pressing a finger to my chin.
"Rose, I..." I begin, trying to find the right words.
Her eyes close, and her hand rises to her forehead, gently massaging it. "Why did you even ask about me? Why do you want to marry me?"
"It's not about marrying you, per se. Don't get me wrong, you're a beautiful woman, but I would marry anyone to ensure the stability of my family. I needed you, Rose. It's that simple. Do with this information what you will.” Although I would marry Rose just like that. There's a real fire in her that draws me in.
She pauses, letting it sink in. "That's honest of you."
"You'll realize it in time, but I'm not lying," I replied.
She chuckles. "What? Never?"
I shake my head. Lying means you're afraid that someone might use everything you say against you. To hurt you, intentionally or not. I don't have that fear. Rosa seemed to consider this for a moment.
"So, if I asked you anything, any question, you'd answer me honestly?" She said.
"If I answer, then yes, you can be sure it's honest," I state.
She nods understandingly. "Okay. So why did you choose me?"
"I was trying to gauge your reaction to me. Our natural chemistry," I reply with a smirk.
She rolls her eyes. "I suppose you were quite disappointed?"
"Actually, you seemed to like my appearance, so..." I trail off.
Her eyes widen. "What? I didn't!"
"You did, Princess. I distinctly remember you saying something about my appearance." I mess with her thoughts.
She exhales irritably and looks away. I chuckle. "You know, for our first formal conversation, I would say we're fine," I tell her.
"You should have said so," she mutters.
I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to coax her to look at me.
"Come on, we can start over," I extend my hand to shake. "I'll go first. Nice to meet you, I'm Enzo Russo."
She stares at my hand for a few seconds, then her gaze rises to my face. Her lips are thin with disgust.
"Part of me wants to shake your hand and start this relationship on friendly terms. But then I remembered you were involved in my niece's kidnapping."
I groan internally. "Like I've said a million times, I saved that little girl. You literally owe me her life."
"Just because you did something good doesn't mean you're not a monster," Rose says, her voice hard. "I-I wanted what was best for me."
My jaw tightens. I take it back: things are going terribly wrong. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Rose."
Her blue eyes narrow, as if she's more than ready for a fight. “I choose the difficult path.”
"Okay then," I say. I take a step forward, approaching her. She's standing a step taller than me, but my height allows us to be at eye level.
"I was going to make this easy for you, but since it's going to be difficult for you, pack your bags. You're moving into my house by the end of the week."
I hate that the look of horror on her face fills me with a sense of justification.