Racing Rivals, Racing Hearts ☆ [Diego Brando x Reader]

Past Noon (47)

It was Christmas Eve, you were filled with excitement. The day ahead promised fun, traditions, and being with loved ones.

You got up and felt cheerful, making your way downstairs. The house was quiet as your father usually slept in a bit on Christmas Eve mornings to ensure he'd stay up for the duration of the party.

You went into the kitchen, prepared a simple breakfast for yourself, and savored a quiet moment. It was still early, and the world outside was just beginning to wake up.

With a sense of purpose, you decided to go into town to pick up a few last-minute appetizers for the evening's gathering. As you returned home around 11 a.m., filled with bags of goodies, you admired the snowy beauty of your estate. It felt like a picture-perfect Christmas scene.

You ensured that every detail was perfect for the night ahead. You tidied up the living room, adjusting ornaments, and admiring the Christmas tree that stood proudly in the corner. Yet, as you turned your gaze toward the fireplace, you noticed something missing—you've forgotten to place your mother's photograph on the mantle.

The holiday season had always been difficult for you and your father since your mother's passing years ago. It was his tradition to set up her photograph as a way of including her in the festivities, a silent acknowledgment.

You knew the photo was in your father's room whenever it wasn't out for the holiday, so you made your way up the grand staircase to your father's bedroom. Knocking gently on the door, you called out, "Father, it's past noon. I've been to the store, cleaned up, and set up some more. Now, it's your turn to prepare the food so it's ready by tonight."

You opened the door and saw your father still sleeping in his bed, under the covers. You approached your father's beside and picked up your mother's photograph on the nightstand.

"Father, it's past noon. You need to prepare the food." You repeated, reaching over to shake him from his slumber.

However, as you touched his still form, a dread settled in your chest. His body was unnaturally cold, and the stiffness of his limbs sent shivers down your spine.

A gasp escaped your lips, and you dropped your mother's framed photo onto the bed. Panic surged through you as you realized the gravity of the situation. Your father was unresponsive.

Terror coursed through your veins, and you stumbled back, your heart pounding in your chest. The room seemed to close in around you as the horrifying reality sank in. Your father, who had been a constant presence in your life, was gone.

You screamed out loud, a desperate cry for help. Tears blurred your vision as you rushed out of the room, your mind racing, unsure of what to do next.

Christmas Eve, which had begun with such promise and excitement, had now turned into an nightmare.

You quickly rushed down the stairs, unsure of where to go or what to do. You breathed heavily as you quickly put on your shoes and stormed out the house.

Standing on the porch not sure what your next move is. But you knew you needed help, and there were no servants around. With a racing heart, you rushed to the Lady Luck who was nearby in her stable.

You quickly mounted her, the urgency of the situation driving you. With Lady Luck, you galloped into town as fast as you could, your thoughts racing. Your mind was set on one person who might be able to help, your god sister Diana. You knew you could trust her with this crisis.

You rode Lady Luck to Diana's house, your heart still pounding in your chest as you knocked on the door urgently. Diana's husband answered, surprise and concern evident on his face. Without delay, you asked for Diana, explaining the dreadful situation. He welcomed you inside as you secured Lady Luck to a nearby post.

Diana appeared, her eyes widening as she took in your panicked expression and tear-stained cheeks. You explained the horrifying discovery in gasping breaths, your voice shaking with fear. Diana and her husband wasted no time. They grabbed their coats and followed you back to your estate, ready to face this terrible crisis together.

———

You were thankful for Diana. She handled everything professionally.

Your father was taken from the home to have his body prepared elsewhere. There was no time to inform everyone of your father's death before the party, so Diana insisted on carrying on with the party.

With help of your family's servants, Diana, and her husband... the food was able to be prepared for the guest as the evening quickly arrived.

———

You got ready in your room, putting on your makeup and fixing up your hair. Your chest felt heavy with the weight of recent events. Diana walked into your room just as you struggled to put on the silver necklace your father had given you for your birthday.

She looked at you with a mix of sympathy and determination. "Y/N, I know this is going to be incredibly difficult for all of us," she began softly. "But you don't have to bear the burden of hosting tonight. I'll handle informing the guests and be the host for the night. You can take the time you need for yourself."

She stood behind you as she helped with clasping on your silver necklace.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at her. "Diana, I... I don't think I can do it," you admitted, your voice shaking. "I can't face everyone and hear those same empty phrases I heard when my mother passed away – 'he's in a better place,' 'everything happens for a reason.' I just can't."

Diana nodded understandingly, her eyes filled with compassion. "I get it, Y/N," she said gently. "You've been through something no one should ever have to experience. If you'd rather stay in your room all night, that's perfectly okay. No one else will understand what you've gone through."

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of the decision lifting slightly. "Thank you, Diana," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I think I just need some time alone tonight."

Diana gave you a reassuring hug. "Take all the time you need, Y/N. I'll make sure everything goes smoothly. And remember, we're all here for you, whenever you're ready."

"Can you make sure no one comes to my room or tries to talk to me?" You sighed heavily.

"Of course." Diana smiled softly as she gently rubbed your shoulders, "Guests are starting to arrive so I'll keep that in mind."

She turns to walk out the room, closing the door gently behind. You sighed as you walked over to your bed and plopped down, staring up at the ceiling.

You felt tears still brimming your eyes as you turned to your side and pulled your blanket over you. Crying out softly.

You stayed in your room for a while, you heard some moments of laughter and joy coming from downstairs after a while. Diana must've informed the guests once everyone had arrived, which explains for the lack of sound for the first hour of the party.

Eventually, people grew more comfortable and decided to enjoy the party and use it as a celebration of life for your Father. Many guests had arrived with gifts intended for you. Little kids roamed around the estate as there was carriage rides for them and plenty of activities to keep them interested.

You can tell the party was big with the sound of plenty of activity and chatter filling the air— hearing it from upstairs. You stayed cooped up in your room, enjoying your solitary.

Until a knock was heard at your door. You ignored it, knowing Diana informed the guests to not approach you.

The locked doorknob rattled a bit, soon the door opened. You quickly stood up in your bed to see who unlocked your door.

Diego Brando. Holding a gift.

☆☆☆