I felt ill. So ill I could've thrown up. To think … that my future fiance that I haven't even met yet was having an affair.
Sohpia starts her car, blowing us all kisses as she drives off. "Get home safely," she told us.
Lou, Grace, and Allison waved me goodbye as they turned the corner of the street, walking to the nearest train station. I almost laughed at the distress on their faces. But I felt bad too, I couldn't deny that they were an odd trio, but also a pleasant one.
It was just me and Victor standing at the entrance of the museum. We walked towards his black car that was parked right in front. I was shivering, caressing my arms. The night breeze was horrible in the city.
Before I could enter the car, I felt a warm fabric drape my shoulders. Victor had taken off his tux's coat and placed it on me. He stood still in the cold with his white blazer and tie. "You looked cold," he said.
I tried not to smile. Something about the gesture made me forget about tonight's madness for a moment. "I was cold. Thank you."
We both entered the car. "So," I started, as he turned on the engine, "what'd you do at the gala?"
"Spoke with people, I was with Sofia and her brother Hunter for the most part. I'm just glad it's finally over—I can't stand those people." He drove out of the corner, the car driving down the street.
I was debating whether or not I should tell him about what I saw. I didn't know what'd he think—or what'd he do. What I did know was that it gave me an advantage. If my future husband was having an affair, then maybe running away wouldn't be an option. Maybe if I expose him, then the engagement would be over. But I still felt conscious. Running away still seemed like a better option. Afterall, if the engagement is canceled, will father even take me back?
Something about the idea brought a frown to my face.
"Are you hungry?" Victor asked.
My head snapped to him. "Um … sort of. I didn't eat dinner."
"Good. Let's get burgers."
—
Victor and I sat on the edge of the car of Shake Shacks drive-thru. I munched on a burger as Victor drank his strawberry shake. I didn't realize how hungry I was until Victor had bought me two burgers and a box of french fries.
"I missed NYC," I said, breathing in the fresh air that came after heavy rain.
"It's not all that great," Victor told me. "Paris is the best place to be. I love Paris."
"You've studied in France?"
He nods. "I did a semester there through NYU. It's a great place to study art."
"Didn't take you as a fine arts person."
He grins. "You'd be surprised."
I wiped the crumbs off my face, placing the burger on the bag. "I'm surprised you eat foods like these."
He placed his shake down. "Once in a while. I'm surprised you do too."
"When I was young, me and my brothers would sneak out of the manor to get fast food. Those might've been the only times we all got along."
Victor leaned closer to me, our shoulders were touching. "What are your brothers like?"
"Kingsley's a brat. Nathanial is arrogant. Salvatore is … collected. They're all different in their own way."
Victor tilts his head, strands of his hair had found its way on his head. In front of the lamp-light of the drive-thru he looked so bright. "What do you think of them Isabella?"
I shrug. "There alright—hardly. I'm only close with Sal. But what about you? You have a lot of cousins."
He shrugs. "Lou and Grace are brats. Allison is too nice for her own good. Hunter and Sophia I'm close with. And my sister Veronica is insufferable—she'll be back from London next week so I'll have to deal with her."
"Is she that annoying?"
He scoffs. "Annoying would be an understatement. Imagine having an arrogant toddler as your twin—that's one way to describe her."
"I'm sure she's sweet."
"You haven't even met her," he argues.
"Well we both do have something in common, which is driving you mad."
He grins. "That's about right—and I did tell you to stay home tonight."
"Grace said it'd be fun."
"Take her words with a grain of salt, that brat never knows what she's talking about."
"Are all your youngester cousins just a bunch of delinquients, or did they learn that from you?"
He raises his brow. "When I was younger, along with Sophia, Veronica, and Hunter, we weren't even allowed to go outside without an escort. The suite was sort of a prison for us, and Samatha—my aunt—was our warden."
I frown. "That sounds familiar."
"But when Valorie was selected to be the successor of the company, and Hunter was selected as the successor of our underworld operations, Sophia, Veronica, and I were sort of forgotten. We decided to do our own thing. I studied and helped with operations. Those two girls involved themselves in business. In the end we all turned out fine."
"Why weren't you selected?" I asked, instantly regretting it. That came out offensive.
I didn't expect him to shrug. "It's complicated."
I felt like I shouldn't have but I said it anyway. "I'm sure someone as smart as you can have your own company."
Victor looked at me surprised, his eyes widened as if I said the most bizare thing in the world. "I highly doubt that."
"I'm serious," I exclaim. "Maybe if you weren't so focused on operations or the underworld, then you could do great stuff."
He almost laughs. "Because sitting in an office my whole life is worthwhile."
"You could find a way to make it thrilling."
He leans closer. "There's more thrilling things in life than that, Isa."
Isa. The way he said my name felt weird—but in a good way. Maybe it was his accent or the deepness of his voice but it held so much feeling. I couldn't help but feel my cheeks heat up. My heart beat was so loud I was begging to God he couldn't hear a thing. And maybe if he did, I hoped he wouldn't tease me till my heart gave out.
I stare at my burger, trying to focus on something other than the devilish smirk on his lips and those deep green eyes. He was staring at me so much and I couldn't help but feel so embarrassed. "What about Valorie," I asked, changing the subject. "You didn't mention him."
He stiffened and my eyes dropped as I cursed myself for ruining the little moment we had. "We're not close. He … doesn't like me very much."
I was afraid to ask why.
"He was always a loner in the family," Victor tells me. "He didn't like anyone. Me specifically, although I never understood why."
But he liked that girl.
"Is he a bad person?" I asked him, hoping his answer wouldn't be as straightforward as Sophia's.
Victor didn't say anything for a long moment. He was staring at the East River in front of us. The parking lot of the drive through was right off the coast of the Upper East Side. "Our whole family is bad," he tells me. "But I think out of all the people you saw on the stage earlier, he might be the only sane one—or at least that's what I tell myself."
We sat in silence for a while, just until I could finish my burger. I wrapped his coat around me tightly, my hair was blowing to my face. I got down from the edge of the car and ran to the garbage bin to throw out everything. I rinsed my mouth with the water he bought for me. When I got back to the car, Victor was staring at me carefully. "What?" I asked, smiling as I sat back next to him.
"Nothing," he says. "You just look … lovely."
My heart dropped, and I felt my lips part in surprise. I didn't really know what to say to that.
"When I saw you tonight in the ballroom I didn't recognize you," he says. "Earlier today you were gloomy and sad, but when you were with my cousins, you looked so …"
"Comfortable?"
"No. You looked hopeful."
I didn't know what he meant by that. And maybe I didn't want to know. I liked Grace and Allison, and I'm still getting to know Lou and Sophia. But I wouldn't say I like them too much to be hopeful about my situation. Afterall, I wasn't going to stay long. I'll be gone before Spring. Maybe when the first snow appeared, I'd have packed my bags and left.
"Thank you for the burgers," I told Victor.
"Not a problem—oh wait."
Victor leans close to me, his nose inches away from mine. His hands touch my chin, pulling me towards him. His eyes were looking at my lips. He picks up a napkin next to him and wipes the ketchup that was on the outer corner of my mouth. The touch of his hands sent shivers down my spine, the focus of his eyes made me feel tingly inside.
He brought his thumb to his mouth, licking the tip before using it to wipe my mouth. My God— "There," he said, it might've been my imagination but his voice sounded raspy. "Now you don't have crumbs on that lovely face of yours."
He hopped off the car, leaving me sitting there strucken and alarmed. Did that actually happen? I didn't know why I felt so guilty, or why I felt like my insides might explode. Just earlier today I thought he was a sorrowful forced-villain, but now I can't help but feel like he's more. I believe there's a soul under that iron disguise, one that's kind and humourful, one that's beautiful and makes me feel things that I've neve felt before.
I didn't understand the sensation that I had felt. I was shaken, but in a good way. It might've been the fast beat of my heart, or the soft and coolness of his hand touching me. I could've been overthinking but what just happened felt so intimate and so … hot.
And what I'm feeling wasn't embarrassment, it was a sort of curiosity and … lust.
I followed Victor back into the car, regretting what I was going to do. "Victor," I called, when we were both settled inside. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
The lamp light under us seemed to twitch. He shook his head, taken aback. "It's not my thing."
"Love or loving someone?"
It took him a moment to answer, his green eyes were staring at my lips, and the small slit of my dress. "I … I don't know how to answer that."
I looked at the rearview mirror, embarrassed that I even asked. What was I even saying? "Victor … " I said, leaning closer. I touched his hand and he stiffened, staring at me with wide eyes. His pink lips were parted, they looked so plump and soft, his skin looked so smooth, and that jaw—everything about him was perfect, like he was the lead of a romance novel, perfect in every way. This moment felt unreal and magical. I've read about it but I've never experienced it. It wasn't love, but it was something electrifying.
I couldn't help it, my lips were only inches from his. I kissed him.
His lips were so soft, they welcomed mine with such warth. I intertwined my hands with his, feeling the coolness of his ruff skin. His lips were everything—it was so different from everything else I imagined a kiss would be. So different from the forced kiss father gave me, or the quick kiss I had with a boy back at St. Browns. This was different. It felt real, it was something I wanted.
Victor ruffly intertwined his hands with mine, gripping it so hard I almost hitched my breath in the kiss. And then he pulled away. I quickly moved back, leaning into the door, completely out of breath. His eyes were dark, his lips a deeper shade of pink now. He breathed out a groan, snapping his head to the wheel in front of him. He stared at it in silence, his eyes darkening each second.
"Victor …"
"You're drunk," he says.
"What—"
"Isabella, you were drunk, that's why you kissed me."
I stared at him baffled. "I only had a sip of champagne, I'm not drunk—"
His head snapped to me, his face grim. He wasn't smiling anymore. "If Grace asks you tomorrow morning about where you were, you're going to tell her that you were drunk from the glasses of champagne you had so I got you hangover soup. That's it. This did not happen."
"But Victor—"
"Is that clear?" His voice was ice cold, and I knew there was no way to explain. I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't realize what I just did—and what a big deal that kiss was. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I—"
"Just stop," he says, sinking into his chair. "Just please don't say anything else."
He didn't reply, instead he started the engine, driving us out the drive-thru.
—
Victor and I had quietly entered the suite. The drive was long and awkward and Victor hadn't said a single thing to me. When we had entered the living room, he walked to the balcony, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket.
"You smoke?" I asked.
He was quiet for a moment, as if he was debating whether or not he wanted to speak with me—ever. "Occasionally," he finally said, "when I'm feeling stressed."
He slid the balcony's glass door, leaving me alone in the living room. The unsaid sentence lingered in the air 'You make me stressed'. I sighed, walking out the living room and down the hallway to where my room was.
When I got to my room, I slid out of my red dress and walked into the bathroom to take off the makeup. The freckles fade back into existence and so do the honey lips that were once red. I scrubbed my face as well, and when I got to the lip, I touched the bottom, once again thinking of Victor's soft lips. Those few seconds felt eternal, and I could've sworn that even for a second, his lips had felt mine on his own. He did return the kiss. Yet he was afraid.
I leave the bathroom and jump onto the bed. So many scandals in one night. Just how much is this family hiding?