Elara's POV,
When our dance ended, the party continued, but people looked at us differently now. Some were in awe, and others were just surprised.
I even heard some whispers, such as, "They looked so much in love. A rare word in our world."
I walk over to the balcony to escape the eyes of everyone and look at the stars. But on my way, I bump into an older man about the age of my father, but he looked sturdy and well-fit.
"My apologies, Mrs Elara." He bows his head, refusing to look at me, and normally, I would brush it off, but the guy felt off.
"It's alright," Then I stop him with a hand before he bypasses me, "What's your name?"
He raises his head, and my brain scans if I've seen him before, but I come up blank. Maybe he's a recruit for Lucien.
"Viktor Halev, ma'am."
"And how did you get in, Viktor Halev?"
It irks me that I don't know who he is. I know everybody on the guest list since I specifically oversaw it, and I didn't see any Viktor Halev. My left hand goes to my brooch, disguised as a dagger.
"You survived," he grins. "But you became someone else."
Before I can react, he slips a card into my hands and walks away. I look down on the blank white card, and look up only to realise he'd disappeared.
Who the fuck was that?
And what the fuck is this card? I tuck it into my dress pocket and continue my journey towards the balcony. Yes, my dress has a pocket.
So efficient.
While staring at the stars, I feel a disturbance behind me. Though I was expecting him.
"Took you a while."
"Ah, so you miss me."
I look at him over my shoulder, not denying it. He comes closer and relaxes on the balustrade with me. Suddenly, watching the stars felt a lot better.
"Where'd you learn to dance?"
I couldn't possibly tell him I learned in the shadows by watching Anya's lessons. So I just shrug.
"We put on a show for them, don't you think?" I ask teasingly, and he hums.
"So, when are you going to tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
"Tell me how you found out about me being in the mafia."
"Ah, we're finally taking the bull by the horns, are we?"
For some reason, I feel that's a trick question. There's a foggy memory in my brain;
~ ~ "I know who you are. I always knew."
I brush it off as déjà vu and shrug, "I actually found out by accident. You see, I'm a curious person, so I snooped through your study one day and saw the files."
I lie, then look at him to see if he'll call me out, but he just smirks, "Huhn."
"Yeah." We go back to looking at the stars, each settling on my answer.
"Thank you." He says quietly, and my eyes flicker to his side profile. So fucking handsome. "For not taking Asher."
"Oh, I haven't decid…"
"You knew but didn't take him." He meets my eyes, amused. "Tell me, when and why do you want to take him, then?"
I open my mouth, then close it. Because I don't like your type of people. Never have.
"Just accept the thank you."
I huff and stretch across the balustrade. "Fine, but watch your back. I won't hesitate to show you how dangerous I can be if you hurt my son."
"Our son." He gives me a look, and I roll my eyes, "I believe you. I believe you'd go through hell and back for him."
I nod slowly, still not used to people saying they believe me, "Good."
"Ah, yes," he digs into his pocket and brings out a velvet napkin. "To fulfil my promise, because I am a man of my word."
"Or, that's what you want people to believe."
He smirks, "You learn fast."
He unfolds the napkin, and my mouth goes a bit slack. It's silver, and in the middle is a ruby shaped into a rose flower. So beautiful.
"It's supposed to be a promise ring. One I would exchange for an engagement one, but today is, well, the engagement party." He holds it between his fingers and scowls. "If you don't like it, I can always return it and…"
"It's beautiful, Lucien," I hold his hand gently, "really beautiful."
His other hand comes up to hold a few strands of my hair. I've noticed he loves my hair. "I know."
Then, he takes my palm in his and kisses the inside of it. My stomach does flips. "Is this still an act?"
"Do you want it to be?"
I don't answer because I don't trust my lips, and he places the ring in my hand. I raise it to the moonlight, and there's something that catches my eyes. Inside is an engraving,
Doma Si
Slovenian for "You're home"
"I'm home?"
"Home," he takes the ring and slides it onto my finger. "Is not a place. It's a feeling."
I look up to him, but his eyes are focused on the ring on my finger, like he can't believe what he's seeing. "How do you feel right now, Lucien?"
He finally looks at me, and I swear I'm drowning in his eyes.
"Perfect." He drops my fingers gently, and I twist my lips. This was getting too emotional. Too fast.
"So…"
"You really don't have to speak, you know?" He sighs, "I'm okay being silent."
"Shut up. I want to ask something."
"Did you just tell me…?"
"What are your talents?" I ask because I just remember what Asher had told me. He chuckles darkly.
"Why are you asking?"
"Come on, don't be shy." I lean back with a smirk. "I just want to know more about my husband."
"So now I'm your husband."
"Don't be like that. We're finally having a good moment."
He clicks his tongue. "I paint. I've always loved painting, I guess. It's more of a hobby than a talent, I'm not good at it."
"So, not a Micheal Angelo." I scoff.
"No, not a Micheal Angelo, just a painter."
"When do you paint? And why?" I ask, "It can't just be a hobby, right?"
"Therapy is expensive." He shrugs, "So I paint."
"..."
"HAHAHA…" I burst into a fit of laughter, and tears even come out of the corner of my eye.
Oh my God, when last did I laugh this hard?
Lucien stares at me like he's watching a whole different person, and I just can't stop laughing.
"You-You're crazy!" I wipe my eyes, wheezing, "You? The richest man I've ever come across thinks therapy is expensive."
"Ah, that's what's funny." He murmurs, and I punch his biceps.
"Don't be such a doob." I grin. "So, can you paint me?"
He avoids my eyes, and my mouth falls open. "You have! Can I see them?"
"Absolutely not!" He shakes his head, "Not in this lifetime, at least."
I pout, "Sourpuss."
"You know, I've never seen you laugh." He licks his bottom lip. "Now, that's an art I'd love to paint."
"Such a romantic." I tease.
"Only for you." He shoots back, and I grin, then look down, realising I am still holding onto his biceps.
I think he notices too, because his eyes darken, and when I bite my lower lip, he shuts his eyes with a low groan.
"Don't tempt me, Cara."
"What does an artist say about kisses?" I come closer, pressing my breast against his arm, and his eyes cloud with lust.
"Shut up." He hisses, grabs my waist, and just before our lips touch, the balcony door swings open.
"Boss!"
"What the fuck?" Lucien growls, "I'll feed your balls to my hounds, you rat…"
"I'm sorry, but," the bald man pauses to look at me, "a fire broke out, and it came from the Matriarch's room."