My fiance’s room housed the cacophony of their moans. Her whimpers of pleasure mingled with his grunts of satisfaction. She screamed his name; he groaned hers - Ashley, that is her name. For a moment, I wished I reached the wrong balcony, although I am a hundred percent sure that I didn’t. For a moment, I hoped I heed Erik’s request of waiting in the morning when the party is all over to come and see him.
It lasted for hours, maybe minutes, but who the hell cares? Clearly not them. I backed up on the wall beside the sliding door, needing something to lean on to, looking up at the sky, loving and hating it at the same time.
I loved this place; I loved this room; I love the man fucking Ashley, only a few feet away from me. The sound of the headboard banging against the concrete wall is deafening. His commands to her to get into every position are loud and clear because his bed is just on the other side of this wall where I am frozen.
I wanted to leave the moment she came for the first time - with his mouth - I knew because she screamed so. But my feet won’t move on their own accord. It seems that my body is doing what it wants to do, all at its own will, because I am very uncoordinated at the moment. I think my heart dropped to my feet and my brain melted or evaporated somehow.
Who in their right mind would listen to her fiance fuck another woman, anyway? No one, just some idiot named Zia.
I regret wearing an almost lingerie kind of dress, it’s not helping me keep my body warm at all.
So this is heartbreak.
The glacial sensation that bathed my frame is colder than the experience I had climbing Mt. Everest. It’s more painful than the prickle and muscle soreness I gained when I did my first attempt at cliff diving. This has got to be tougher than holding my breath 50 feet underwater, free diving with whale sharks.
I closed my eyes, taking a sharp inhale and exhale.
No wonder some people hated ‘Love’.
After a while of banging, moaning, and grunting, the silence of the night finally prevailed again. I wasn’t crying. No, at least not until I got home. What remained was their ragged breathing while I held mine. Now that they are done hammering each other, I fear that my shallow puffs would give away my location.
“So…” Ashley was first to speak. “What happens to us now?” Her voice is as sultry as ever, raspy from all the screaming but still sexy as it could ever get.
“What do you mean?” Calvin answered. Ashley’s giggle accompanied the shifting echo of the mattress.
“Stop, Cal… God, where do you get the stamina…” Calvin chuckled. “I mean, you said you are engaged to that flat board. Will you call off the engagement so we could be together?”
Silently, I was hoping he would at least defend me from her insults. But if I thought hearing them have sex was the worst part, well damn, I was wrong. “No. The wedding will take place as planned, Ash. My parents will disown me if I don’t push through with it.”
The girl huffed, “then what about me?”
“What do you mean, what about you? We’ll still see each other, you know how much I love you.”
“I don’t want to be your mistress,” her voice elevating away from the sultry tone.
Oh, now she dared to act as if the idea of being his secret lover enrages her? What title would she give herself right now, then?
“Come on, Ash, we talked about this,” Calvin pleaded. “Five years and I can divorce her. Just give me some time, babydoll.”
At that moment, I couldn’t stop my tears anymore.
How could he utter those words? It seems like I was living a nightmare. I don’t want to believe anything that’s coming from his mouth. The boy I loved since I was sixteen, the man who made me smile whenever I am sad… planned all of this?
I wiped my tears, having enough of their conversation. There’s just so much I can bear and I’m sure if I hear another betrayal from him, I’d go in there and do something I would regret.
With shaking legs, I climb on the handrailing of the balcony. The sweat on my palms made it hard for me to grab hold of the marble surface, making me lose balance and slipped off.
Oh fuck.
Both of my hands grabbed hold of the railings as I tried to pull myself up.
Since I acted on impulse, I’m too far from the wall for leverage. I looked down to the second floor’s balcony and to where Erik stood guard earlier, glad that he wasn’t there anymore or he would probably raise an alarm to the entire manor. I breathe out, swaying my hips to reach the bottom rail with my feet. The stiff wind slipped through my dress, making me shiver.
My clammy palms are slipping further, I can feel it, the weight of my body is hanging on my fingertips as I try to sway my feet once more on a make it or break it attempt. When my hand slipped and my foot didn’t get a good footing on the bottom rail, I knew I was in for a fall.
I closed my eyes, preparing myself for a dreaded impact, but powerful hands gripped mine.
I looked up to the person holding my hand, but because of the darkness, I could barely make my savior’s face. Begrudgingly, I hope it’s not Calvin. I’d rather take the fall than be saved by him.
The strong arms pulled me up as if I weighed nothing, and soon I was standing on the ground again, heart thumping wildly. The same hands that saved me covered my mouth, stopping me from uttering a word when I had no intention of making any sound.
He smelled of cigarettes and alcohol, but the powerful scent of cedarwood and fresh rain somehow calmed my nerves.
I nodded my head, conveying to my savior that I won’t utter a word. He held my wrist; I was sure he’s a man… a well-built man to be able to haul my 5’5 height and 126 lbs like a sack of cotton. My savior tugged me along with him to the edge of the balcony. We are looking over the room beside Calvin’s while the pair inside the room continue to talk and giggle.
He let my hand go, hopping off of the balcony, jumping towards the other side like he’s a mass of air. His shadow, by the help of the dull skies and security lights on the ground, motioned for me to jump as well.
It’s a good 40 feet high, a dare to fall versus standing here and continue to listen to Calvin and Ashley.
May the odds be with me.
I lift my shaking legs, climbing on the railings again, the wind swaying my hair as I stare at the stranger’s open arms. With a deep breath, I held it in and sprinted forward, breathing out as I felt his powerful arms engulfed me again, saving me from falling.
He chuckled, the sound so deep and sensual.
He placed his palms on the small of my back, guiding me inside the room that accompanied the balcony we jumped onto; the lights flickered on with the clap of his hand and my eyes almost bulged out when the face of my savior came to light.
“X?”
He smirked, walking towards the minibar, pouring himself a glass of bourbon.
I shuffled on my bare feet. Now the idea of the 40 feet fall is rather alluring than being in the same room as my supposed-to-be brother-in-law.
“Here,” his voice, his presence, it changed since the last time I saw him.
I swallowed hard. His company doesn’t only drag forward uncomfortable feelings, but a lot of emotions that I wanted to bury in the past. My eyes scanned the room instead of focusing on him, studying everything around him.
“Zia?” he called, now only a foot away from me, pulling my gaze from scrutinizing the war painting hanging on the wall adjacent to his bed.
“T-thank you for saving me.” I reached for the glass of alcohol he’s offering with both hands. The gentle touch of our skin, now that I am aware of who he is, fuels the shivering sensation I’m nursing further.
He shrugged his shoulders, unaffected by my uneasiness, turning back on me to sit on the couch across from his bed. Everything is black, white, and gray, the opposite of Calvin’s colorful room. It’s almost bare since he hasn’t been here since the funeral.
He lifted the rock glass into his lips, the umber liquid flowed smoothly from his lips down his throat. I was ogling him - I realized - so I averted my gaze from him. His eyes remained on me - watching as I shifted on my foot, eyeing his bed, needing to sit. The adrenaline from the almost fall is threatening to wear off any minute now, and I’m afraid my legs would give out.
The mattress dipped under my weight; I lifted the glass to my lips, aware of his watchful eyes as I stared at the same war painting.
“You’re welcome,” he said, finally done with silent watching.
“Hm?” I turned my gaze back to him, finding him still staring at me.
Crap.
My make-up must’ve been smudged by now.
Double crap!
Awareness washed over me. Because of the style of my dress, I must’ve looked like a slut that came to seduce his baby brother.
I pulled down my skirt to the farthest that it could reach, and crossed my legs.
“H-how did you know I was at Calvin’s?” his name, that liar’s name, I almost choked uttering it.
Xavier didn’t speak, he didn’t have to. His gaze is telling, he knows…
I lowered my eyes, staring at the remaining brown alcohol on my glass, and took the courage to finish everything. My face crumpled at the strong liquor that buried my throat, shaking my head, wishing the effect would give me more…
“You saw everything?”
Xavier nodded.
Well, fuck.
~Zia~ About thirty minutes into the drive, Xavier parked in front of the cabin by the lake. My mind was somewhere else through the drive; another guilt feeling washed over me. This was our night together, and I pushed my worry about Lu and Penny aside for a bit. I just have to trust that they’ll work things out. Xavier slid out of the car; I took this chance to shake my worry away as he skirted over to my side, opening the door for me. Trees shadowed over us, creating a dancing pattern through their leaves as the sliver of the silver moon slipped between the gaps. The gentle purr of the summer wind made the small lights anchored from tree to tree swayed like sparkling stars within my reach. In my awe, I admired the cabin, small, cozy, made of glass and wood. Yellow l
~Zia~Like always, Xavier had everything planned out. We took a drive to Club Sky and met with our friends. I haven’t gone out with any of them since I gave birth to Franco. Sure, they visit our place often, sometimes for no apparent reason.Diego would pop up the most; he even had his things in the guest room since he’s been sleeping there a couple of nights a week. One time, I interrogated him about why he’s always in our place. I don’t mind having them over, but Diego is a pain in the ass. He whines when we run out of Batangas coffee. It’s cute. He’s a child that cries when there’s no cereal in the morning. And his response was even infuriating.‘You hoard the best coffee in town,’ was his nonchalant response. I pity the girl who would fall for this kid.
~Zia~My parents have been traveling back and forth from New York to Seattle for about two months now. They have the penthouse next to ours to their name. They wanted to be close to Franco. I mean, they even hold him longer than I do when they’re around. I only get to hold him when he’s hungry; where’s the justice in that?Mom and Dad were sitting in the living room, admiring Franco as he cooed, yawned, and fluttered his eyes because he was already sleepy.I stare at them from the kitchen, eating my salad with a pout on my lip. There’s a small part of me that feels a little possessive about my son. I knew my parents only wanted to be with their grandchild. They’ve been waiting for him excitedly, like Xavier and me. They’ve been deprived of this chance when Nadia lost her baby; now
~Zia~“Xavier!” I pressed my hand on my lower back, the other set under my huge belly, breathing in and out. The cramps were different. Dr. Shiovan told me I would know when it was time. And it’s damn time.Still in his pajamas, Xavier came rushing into our room with flour decorating the black apron around his neck. He was making a ravioli for me, my request last night, and he promised me he’d make his pasta for the dish, which became my go-to food in the third trimester of my pregnancy.“It’s time?” he asked, helping me up from the reading nook where I spent my entire morning.“Fuck,” I hissed, feeling another contraction. “He’s coming out.”Xavier&rsquo
~Zia~ It doesn’t matter if we are alive and breathing. The emptiness written all over our faces screams we lost more than what we gained. Xavier got out safely, but the manor didn’t survive the explosion. Part of our plan was to make the crime scene look like a gas leak under the estate, making it easier for our people in the government to investigate and conceal this chaos. There’ll be a lot of questions asked, and for the most part, everything we’ll say would be a lie. We headed back to the safe house to spend the night and tend to our wounded. Xavier was silent the entire drive; we all were, for that matter. He gave me a quick peck on the forehead when we got to our room and headed directly to the bathroom to clean up
~Zia~“Lu, Bo,” Xavier grunted, fighting his way through the hallway that led to the basement. “I really need you two to move your fucking asses now!”“This is a fucking sewage system!” Lu grunted. They had the job of setting up explosives under the manor. A big argument took over before the two agreed to do this. They wanted to be on Xavier’s side, to protect their boss and friend, but they had a bigger task at hand. “It would’ve been easier if we came in with you, you idiot!”Xavier grunted, taking cover on the busted wall of the hallway. A Luciano family portrait hangs above him, swaying with each wave of gunfire through the air.“Did you just call me an idiot?” Xavier chuckled.