Azalea Faye Larau - The sweetheart socialite with a fire underneath and an up and coming ballet dancer in London striving to stay afloat in an ocean of sharks, all the while dealing with heartbreak and loss.
Harlan Emeric Marchetti - The Italian Maf...
"I saw magic in his eyes. Dirty, dark, beautiful magic."
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"Congratulations, Mr. Marchetti, Ms. Larau." The real Father offered us a polite yet fearful smile after church was over and I had a feeling this man was more than aware of who my fiancé really was.
With a nod towards him, Harlan had turned us around and we were now walking out of the church with my arm hooked around his, my hat placed neatly on my head and my hair lightly flowing with the light breeze as a soft sigh escaped my lips.
Like I wanted to when I first came here, I was seated in the very first and front row next to Harlan and his family. I had gaped at the ethereal beauty of the church the whole time, much to the Marchetti's amusement.
Looking back to the seats where I had previously sat with my friends, I recalled how long yet not so long it had been, and how far I had come since that time.
If only I had stayed at the hotel that day, maybe things would have turned out differently. But then again, I doubt Harlan wouldn't have found another way to lure me into his trap.
When we had first walked into the church, I was rewarded with many stares that lasted longer than necessary.
Those who hadn't backed down in their whispering received their equal share of glares from Harlan and his sister and those who were courageous enough to look me in the eye received a polite yet warm smile from me.
"Azalea!" My thought process was broken was I saw Harley walking towards me in a knee length navy blue dress that complemented her tan skin, her wavy hair pulled into a high ponytail with a few strands falling at the sides.
"Harley, it's nice to see you again." I nodded towards her when she cast a wary glance towards her brother who watched our exchange with rapt attention as if we were planning to escape his clutches again.
"Likewise." She hugged me and I was aware of the prickling stares I was receiving from people as well as the clicking of photos that nearby onlookers and media who knew Harlan and his family.
"I like your ring." She gestured to the engagement ring on my hand and I huffed out a humourless laugh.
"Thanks, I guess. Your brother chose it." I glanced at him already watching me, an approving hum leaving his lips. At least I thought so.
"Seems like it, he has good taste, for a man like him." She looked me over appreciatively with a smirk and I knew what she was trying to say when their mother, Ella, walked over and Harlan grunted in annoyance at his sister.
"Arlo, Azalea, dear, don't you look lovely today." She kissed both my cheeks and I smiled at her.
"You too." I replied as Roberto wrapped an arm around his wife's waist and she gazed at him adoringly.
