Chapter 2

Aaliyah’s POV

It is hard to keep the scowl off my face as Max takes another step forward, the guards practically melting into the walls.

My chin gears up to look at him, ignoring the sudden dryness of my throat. 

“Max…”

“You look…” he angles his head, his eyes sweeping through me slowly. “…out of place.”

“I am not here for your stupid engagement,” I blurt before I can chicken out. “I just need to talk to my sister.”

An annoying smirk graces his face. “Do you?” Max studies me, as if deciding whether to let me live or not. “Does Iris want to talk to you?”

"It is none of your business. I am going to see my sister, and you are not stopping me."

He leans in, and my eyes flutter close involuntarily, sucking in a sharp breath. His scent hits me, dark, expensive, and something I should steer clear of. "I don't waste my time on things, Aaliyah. You would have known that if you hadn't been away for so long."

“Miss me?”

“I don’t miss children.” He pulls away and nods at the guards. “Get out of my way.”

"Should we let her in, sir?" the first guard asks quietly, and I look at him, bewildered. Who knew he had that tone in him?

“Oh no,” he says softly, shaking his head. “She’s the Moretti’s last daughter. Since she came all this way, it is important I take her in myself.”

And then, he looks at me, the faintest trace of amusement in his gaze. “It’s important I please my in-laws, isn’t it?”

“I am not going anywhere with you,” I mutter, standing my ground. 

“That’s too bad, Aaliyah. Because the only way you will be let in is through my express instructions.” And then he shrugs. “But of course, you are welcome to be my guest and attend the engagement from outside. I am sure Iris would prefer that.”

***

The chandelier light is too bright, glittering over champagne flutes and, for some reason, finding its way into my eyes. I move further into the shadows, as laughter bounces off all around but does not meet me. 

Everything around reminds me that I don’t belong here, from the sequined dresses floating through the floors to the majestic aura and the beautiful classic piece pouring through the hall. 

I stay close to the pillar, my suitcase still right next to me. No one notices me. Not even Iris. 

It shouldn't bother me, because I expected it. I left for boarding school when I was thirteen, forced by my father to a strange place. Before then, I used to get ignored a lot. My father hated my guts, hated that I wasn't accepting of being the meek and easily conformed daughter.

I was a lost cause from then on.

He whisked me away at the first chance he got.

The music shifts, and the tempo reduces to something milder. Couples move to the centre of the ballroom, a mixture of love and domination in their eyes. Max takes Iris’ hand and pulls her towards him. 

She giggles, her eyes bright with excitement. Max must have whispered a compliment when he leaned in, because now, Iris' face is downright flushed. She hits his chest playfully and giggles again.

The sight is almost appalling.

Almost.

The crowd grows tired, waiting for the first slow dance of the night. I don’t take my eyes off Max, even though I know I shouldn’t be looking at him.

His shoulders move as his hands rest on the small of Iris' waist. His mouth is tilted in that damn smirk again. I wish I could wipe it off his face. 

I see where Iris' attraction is coming from. Max is a Greek god with features that will make anyone's mouth water. He is living sex appeal, and he knows that. It mixes with the darkness that oozes off him in ways that make him irresistible. 

But no one knows what I know.

And then, his eyes slide past Iris, falling on me. It lasts for only a second, but it is more than enough to make my breath hitch in my throat, to make me withdraw into the comfort of the pillar, forcing myself to look away. 

I scan the room, looking for a means of escape. 

“Aaliyah?”

I stop suddenly, turning around to find Aunty Lucinda peering at me over the rim of her champagne glass. 

"I knew it!" she says in a high pitch, her eyes running down my outfit with judgment in her eyes. She looks back at me with an awkward smile. "Er….Did you get the invite?"

“I just got off a plane.”

“Yeah,” she snaps her fingers, sampling too many rings. “I thought you were in…where was it again? A convent?”

“Rome. In college,” I answer flatly, wishing she’ll let me go. 

“Mmm. Yes. That explains your style. You college students never cease to amaze me.” She gestures at my joggers. “Well, your father must be thrilled to know you’re home.”

“Right.”

That should have been her cue to leave, but she plants herself right next to me, sipping her drink. I think I am going to choke on her perfume. 

"Your sister's done really well for herself, don't you think?" she continues, sighing in delight. "Every lady out there wants to be Max Bianchi's wife, but she got him wrapped around her finger."

“He’s very charming, and…”

I stop listening at some point, my eyes returning to the dance floor, no matter how hard I try to stop myself. He is still dancing with Iris, but now, his gaze is on me. Every spin is calculated to keep me in his line of vision.

The song ends, and I grab the handle of my suitcase, planning my escape when another song starts. A shadow suddenly falls over me. 

Max.

His eyes fall lazily on my suitcase. “Leaving already?”

“Why do you care?”

He steps closer, his hand snaking around to the small of my back. I yelp when he pushes me flu

sh against his chest. 

“Dance with me, Aaliyah.”