𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒂

𝗼𝗻𝗲; 𝗮𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻

I never really understood the fascination most people had with these events. It was yet another opportunity for Seattle's elite to flash their cash, boast foreign property and drink expensive champagne.

It was needless to say this was not my normal scene. I was here for one reason and one reason only.

Rosalie De Luca.

This marriage was nothing more than one of convenience. I had to keep repeating that over in my head.

"Aiden."

That sugar coated voice sounded all too familiar.

Caterina.

"Looking as dashing as ever," she smirked.

Dark brown hair curled around her shoulders; her lips smudged in rouge lipstick. Her choice of dress was something you would expect to see in a club, not such a publicised event: a short blue dress, with a plunging neckline. You would never guess a woman dressed in such a way could hold such power.

"Is she here?" I was already becoming impatient.

"She'll be down soon enough."

As if on a cue, a girl appeared. Almost the spitting image of her mother.

Her upturned eyes the colour of molten lava; her complexion that of buried treasure. Curly auburn hair clipped back with intricately decorated pins.

"Rosalie, I though we talked about making yourself look presentable," Caterina hissed.

Rosalie simply rolled her eyes, before her gaze averted to me.

"What is he doing here?" her words were short and sweet. It was easy to see she had not inherited her mother's persuasion.

"This isn't a private party, it's a Mafia gathering sunshine."

She rolled her eyes again. I took a step forward.

"You know if you roll your eyes too much, rumour has it you lose your sight all together."

Rosalie looked around the room. Her pupils darting from the old men in tuxedos discussing business, to their twenty-something escorts with guns undoubtedly concealed somewhere on their bodies.

"I could live with that," she turned to her mother, "you never answered my question. What is he doing here?"

I had seen many terrifying things in my life.
Men, and women, meeting untimely deaths in the most unfortunate circumstances.
But the scene unfolding in front of me could easily compare to the most brutal of killings.

Caterina's eyes lit up with pleasure, a pleasure coming from her daughter's downfall.

"Well, amore mio, this man and you will be wed as soon as Summer comes," the words left her lips, they twisted like poison, and sounded like them to.

"Madre, you can't be serious. I thought we discussed that I was too immature for marriage."

"Plans change."

"I'll tell you what this about. It is about the fact that you are terrified that I can create a life away from all of this, away from you. And you can't be having that can you? If you had to deal with this, being married off nothing more than a possession, I have to do the exact same," Rosalie spat, having seemingly forgot I was stood just in front of her.

"You do not talk to your mother like that."

"Do I look like I fucking care?"

In my line of work, it was often you saw families break at the touch of the button. I had seen sons' shoot their fathers; mothers' murder their daughters.
However I was yet to see an argument so full of raw, uncensored hatred.

"Do you want to dance?" the words left my mouth just as they had entered my thoughts.

"You know what, screw it. Why not?"