Kingdom of isolation - you can't hide

Thirty Five - Dual POVs

Alexander

A lot of things annoy me, putting everyone around me on edge at all times. I am a man with a strict set of rules. I don't thrive on chaos, on change, especially when it's not done on my terms—which is never. I have the incessant need for things to be in complete order and when that doesn't happen, people suffer. Yet, I'm not entirely surprised when Aurora arrives late to the party and steps into the ballroom wearing all black like she's attending the funeral of Tim Burton himself. The customary gown she was supposed to wear tonight is nowhere to be seen, a sparkling black fabric wrapped around her body instead. My fingers grip the champagne flute, mouth hovering over it as I watch her from afar. And when she looks at me, with that deceptively bright smile, I nearly lose it. Time will tell what she'll show up with on our wedding day. My crown is on a rehashing of the corpse bride, I expect nothing less from this bundle of chaos. It's an intuition at this point. But I'll be damned if she doesn't look breathtaking even when she's defying me. Like a little ballerina, she moves around the hall gracefully, greeting everyone in attendance like she belongs here. But there's a layer of nervousness in her every move, as if she's merely putting on a performance. I can't keep my eyes off her the entire time. I should, I could. But, I won't. Not when I know how much it affects her. Sick satisfaction fills me when I catch her slipping in performance, my presence too profound.

I, on the other hand, shouldn't be affected by her at all. Yet, I am. Infuriatingly so. I've never had a type, a preference of sorts, until I laid my eyes on her over a year ago. There's just something about her that makes me want to keep her all to myself. Like a greedy dragon, I want my little ballerina all to myself. Trapped inside her little box for my pleasure and her pain only. I won't go near her just yet though, I'm quite enjoying watching her be herself. Or a version of herself with phantom wings fluttering behind her back. She's a mystery, one I want to uncover myself. Red mists my eyes when I catch Hayden staring and eventually interacting with what's mine. I run my tongue across my teeth, thinking about all the way I could torture the bastard or any other bastard who looks her way tonight. A slight problem, however, it seems everyone is looking at her. Damien Gallo included. Whoever the fuck invited him? The need to covet her nearly consumes me until Killian whistles obnoxiously from beside me.

"Talk about breaking the rules, your majesty. I like her." He murmurs loud enough for my ears only. The glass cracks under the sheer force I'm using in order to avoid throttling him.

"Mind your own fucking business, Whitlock." My voice is low, threatening, as I break away from watching Aurora. A grin takes place on his wicked face, too content on teetering the line with me. He's about to say something but stops, eyes looking over to whoever's directly above us. I don't even need to know who it is. Killian is excellent at schooling in his emotions, whatever the fuck those may be. And there's only one person that gets any sort of reaction from him, the only one who's also capable of making him drop his gentlemanly facade. I'd feel sorry for whoever has his undivided attention, but I don't know how that would help anyone—especially the baby blue eyed girl who's captured my cousin's attention through no fault of her own. Green eyes glint with malice, a shark having smelled blood, his intentions are clear as he runs a hand through his pitch black hair.

"Don't mind if I do, your majesty." He saunters off. I scoff. Bastard. I slam the glass against the bar, the fragile glass on the brink of shattering into pieces. The bartender silently takes it away from me with trembling hands, replacing it with another.

I roll my shoulders back against the bar stool, muscles groaning in protest from the constant travel. Between my visits in Montana, LA and New Hampshire, I'm also flying out of the country every once in a while. The engagement was made public knowledge, a friendly reminder to everyone that I wasn't to be disturbed unless I reached out first—including tonight. No one has attempted to get anywhere near me, knowing all too well that I am not to be disturbed even if it's my own fucking engagement party. Arriving in New Hampshire this afternoon, I declared a week-long visit with my future wife and in-laws. I intend to make the most out of this trip. I decide to give my ballerina some space and focus on Gallo, who surrounds himself with likeminded people. The prince of the underworld in his own right, Damian Gallo is a lethal weapon in my arsenal. While I don't particularly like the man and the way he fucked up, I can respect the hard work he's put into owning an empire with a 'no questions asked' attitude. He's a gateway between the parts of our world that are blurring the lines between wrong and right. I could excuse his mistakes, Aurora does have an unpredictable nature, but I won't. Not when it sent her to the brink of death. He watches me from afar before eventually excusing herself from the small talk and heading my way. Bold, yet, expected from someone like him to bend the rules.