Love and Lust (The Hamartia Trilogy Book 2)

Capitolo XXII

It was the last fucking supper.

The last dinner that I'll have before I officially become a De Marchi and I am sitting on the table filled with mouthwatering Italian dishes alone.

Fucking house! Where the goddamn hell is Lucas?

The entire day, my stomach was turning. I was in a shitty mood because of the nerves. All I wanted was to have a breakdown for a few hours, and remind myself how much of a bad bitch I am after. But no time for that. Instead, I poured the feeling of uneasiness to Theresa Wills who arrived before I woke up and decided to have alterations of her own. Tough luck, sister. This is my wedding. I gave her the bitch stare all day simply because she was MIA the days prior, and she had to come up with some lame excuse that she had other clients. Clients who are more important than me? I don't think so.

"I am the client, Theresa," I had snapped after she desperately tried to explain. "There are only two ways your career can go from here. You either get better, wealthier clients, or you don't get clients at all." Her eyes grew at the realization that was building in her head. I had the urge to have a little blast from the past with her just to make her uneasy, but decided that it could be more useful in the future. So I gave her shit the entire day instead. It was nicer.

Aurelia arrived as well, with raised eyebrows as she paraded in the foyer and discovered her son's ex sitting on one of my couches while scribbling something on her planner. She eyed me like she had a mischievous idea in her head as she handed me a vase of red roses for my room. She snapped at Lucas in Italian in front of Theresa about him not telling his own mother that his former fiancée was the wedding planner. She did it on purpose, knowing that it would make Theresa uncomfortable and that she understood zero Italian. I knew I liked that woman. In a way.

Soon after that, Harriet arrived along with her 200 questions about what she could wear tomorrow. My eyes widen in horror and warning as I realize that she has yet to decide and to purchase a dress.

"I needed your opinion," she had reasoned as we sat in the garden chairs that afternoon. She showed me a fucking vision board of her dress options and I almost threw the iPad across the freshly polished lawn. "What if I overshadow you at your own wedding?"

"Harriet, honey," I started, almost throwing my head back with laughter. "You cannot overshadow me even at your own wedding. I could wear a fucking tie-dye duster dress and still standout. It's a Larionova curse." It was adorable that she needed my permission, so when she had the right dress in mind, she left to go fucking find it. She should pray that she'd find that very specific dress in under a day.

Then by mid-afternoon, the house almost felt crowded. Chase arrived with his hideous pug, and the bitch barked at me like she fucking owns the place. I basically threatened Chase with a gun to take the dog out of the echoing halls of the house.

The De Marchi security team arrived as well, and I was obligated to show them around the house and introduce them to my men. It was chaotic and hectic, and I did all those while wearing a fucking purple minidress that exposed my back, still faking it for Aurelia. I needed my powersuits.

By five, I was nursing a migraine and it had been growing since. Thankfully, Aurelia, Chase and his dog left an hour before dinner, which means that I had the time to soak in my tub and wash away the remnants of that tiring day.

And this is my fucking reward? Waiting for my damn fiancé who I haven't seen the entire day? Are we really getting married tomorrow? Or was I cutting someone's dick tonight?

Just as I was about to get up and tear the house down for companionship, I heard his familiar, frantic footsteps.

"Fuck," he crushed under his breath as he buttons the last button of his shirt. "I'm sorry. There's was an urgent phone call—"