Spellbound

Chapter 4 - Con Affetto

con affetto - with effect; with emotion

The rain hitting your skin felt minuscule compared to the hatred and disappointment you felt inside. Liam tried to stop you before you left, but you just shrugged him off. You were too embarrassed to talk to anyone right now.

Stephen had played you like a fucking violin.

You genuinely believed that Stephen had changed since the first day you met him. Yes, he was still arrogant and cocky, but not to the level he was at about a year ago.

You were running behind; your cab had gotten stuck in traffic, and your performance was going to begin in less than five minutes. You were barreling through the door, apologizing profusely as you almost hit people, cello hanging on for dear life.

The stage was nearly there; you were gonna make it. That was until a heavily cologned chest barreled into you, drenching you in some sort of alcohol.

It was whiskey.

You despised whiskey.

The chest spoke, and you could tell he was restraining himself from snapping completely. "Now, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

God, he had a nice voice. It was low, but not gravely. He was well articulated, probably from years of schooling.

You looked up, giving your best apology smile you could. His cold blue eyes stared down at yours, sending shivers down your body.

The man raised an eyebrow, still requesting an answer.

"I'm so sorry, sir, I was gonna be late, and I have to perform in like," you looked around wildly for a clock, to no avail. "I don't fucking know, like two minutes? I really didn't mean to hit you and spill your drink. I'm doing you a favor though. I'll buy you a better drink after I'm done, okay?"

You tried to go around him, but a large hand grabbed your wrist. You spun around, ready to throw hands. "First you barrel into me, spilling my drink, and then you proceed to insult me? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Before you could respond, someone spoke your name, causing the man to drop your wrist. The person who sought you out was the coordinator of the event you were at. You couldn't remember what her name was, just that she had a lot of power and even more money.

You turned back toward the man, who looked very bewildered at the whole interaction. You gave him an innocent smile, very obviously trying to get on his nerves. "That's who the fuck I am."

With that you followed the rich woman, but before you completely disappeared you turned back to the man who was still staring at you.

"Find me afterward, grumpy."

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You honestly expected the man to avoid you for the rest of the night, which was understandable. You had insulted him a few times.

Your performance went well, as it usually did. You've practically mastered the art of performance, so 99 times out of 100 they went well.

You had played a classic: Bach's Cello Suite No.1 in G*. Its run time was about twenty minutes, so the man probably got bored.

Boy were you wrong.

As you were exiting off the stage, his voice spooked you, causing you to jump slightly.