Paint Me Saved ✓ Book 1

5. Letting it go

Zemira

Coincidence – that element was deployed in movies and fairy tales to tip the scales of drama. It had never occurred to me that my life could also be subject to such cruel coincidence. When I accepted my fate as the sacrificial cow in the ritual of business, I had inadvertently become caught between the Brenton brothers.

Though we covered our shock well, I didn't realize until much later that hiding the truth was harder than it appeared. Every cell in my body screamed at me whenever I saw Antonio.

Not that I felt anything for him, it was the sheer pressure to do the right thing, to confess to the sin I'd committed on that dark, lonely night when I felt my world was crumbling.

A soft tap at my door was my reality call. After another thumping knock, it flew open. Antonio walked in, his gaze glued to me. Unlike his brother's mélange eyes, Antonio's were a shade of glassy, pale gray.

"You look breathtaking," he said. His tender touch hovered over my cheek, and warm blood rushed beneath layers of my makeup. "I still can't believe you hate being photographed."

"Well, you love it enough for the both of us," I said, adjusting his navy blue tie.

His attire - a navy blue suit with a crisp blazer and a crimson pocket square was perfect for the evening. Neatly gelled hair and a clean-shaven face suited him. It highlighted his Celtic jawline. That golden tan wasn't from the Miami sun but his Latin genes.

From his clothes to his overall appearance, Antonio always nailed it. Part of me believed the Brentons must have an entourage whose only job was to make them look delectable.

"Shall we?" He extended his hand with that trademark smile never leaving his face. "We don't want to be late."

The party was an excuse for more media face time. Since Antonio's interview about me, everything had run like clockwork. The publicity brought us new investors, and our dried profit wells received yield showers. What felt like our end turned out to be a spouting beginning.

"When we reach there, your job would be to get Mr. Marson to invest in your business." Antonio gently tapped behind the driver's compartment. With the privacy screen rolled up, we were left in the company of our words. "He's looking for new investment opportunities. So, are you ready for it?"

"Yes, I was born ready."

Lie. I was a wreck. I was in pain. My heels drilled nails into my feet. Above all else, I was suppressing the instinct emerging from the depths of my stomach, screaming at me to escape.

Antonio took my pale fist, rubbing my knuckles. My chest felt full. Although we hadn't spent much time together, I found him to be kind and genuine.

Our car pulled up outside the party arena. My chivalrous companion and soon-to-be fiancé got out, rushing around to open my door.

"Thank you," I whispered, holding the trail of my red dress in one hand while the other intertwined with his.

Ours was an act, an exhibition for the camera and the world. A choreographed performance that should have captured my heart in its motions. I felt nothing. No tingling beneath my skin, no heart-thumping realization that he was the one.

"Friends don't have to keep thanking each other, Zem," Antonio said, and for a brief moment, I felt happy. Then, my pureed mind registered his words.

"Friends!"

Friends we were, friends we would always be. Nothing more, nothing less.

Camera flashes blinded me. Deviating from Haley's instructions, Antonio hoisted my body into his arms and walked us over the last steps.