Quarante

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The tension in the main room of the Adinov mansion was so thick, it choked those who were too small

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The tension in the main room of the Adinov mansion was so thick, it choked those who were too small. The ladies and gentlemen in suits hid behind vases, sculptures, paintings, curtains and portraits of the Mrs. and Mr. and watched. As if all had only one functioning lung, and they had closed all vents and windows.

And the closer you got to the center, the harder it was to breathe. Ivaan Adinov stood at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a black suit, and meddling with the cuffs at the bottom. His little angel and sister, Amé Fengári, stood beside him, wearing a long white gown. She had her hands behind her back, and her long lioness hair spread over her shoulders like a beautiful disaster, made of star collisions.

Amé noticed the ladies immediately perk up and she followed.

The ladies hid behind the leather couches and watched. Lady Seele was approaching the glass stairs, and they instantly saw the long sleeves of her dress reach her small wrists. It was wine red, embroidered with black, and later on it showed the strapless form that went right across her chest, and sleeked down to the bottom in a bell-like fashion.

Their eyes widen.

Ivaan looked up and Amé saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and watched. Idina knew how to hit her beloved, and hard. She knew he'd be looking at her collarbones, delicate and protruded like her jawline, he's kissed them many times so he could draw them in his sleep. Her skin, not only clear on her face, was clear everywhere– everywhere. Hair pinned up, her bold eyebrows and brown eyes matched with a smirk, Ivaan was loosing.

He remembered the first day he saw her.

She was like no other. Not friable, not easily liable, not made of plastic and spit, she was iron and metal, she was a wall between heaven and this world, she was all that God had to offer him and more. And he knew that, because the moment their eyes met, he saw equality, her confidence, intelligence, and power came from a clear message that said I love me more than anything you could give me.

So he never fought that. He never wanted to become her number one, her first love, he became a partner, an admirer of what she already was without him.

And it was hard for him to push that beefing, petty shit aside knowing the woman he idolized looked as beautiful as she did tonight.

The ladies shut one another up when they saw Damon Holland, a softer-looking version of Mr. Adinov, walk beside Ina Seele. His face was still bruised, but he had stitches, and he wasn't dirty like the last time they saw him. In fact, he was polished squeaky clean.

It was clear God's gentlest creation, Ina Seele, had shed her light on him. He was wearing a tailored suit, gray, white and black, with satin and Italian handwork, he was handsome. No, beautiful. In every sense of the word.

Amé Fengári clenched her jaw.

She threw a glare at her sister before her eyes subconsciously returned back to him. Damon Holland. If she looked at him for what he was, a man with bloody hands and her same scars, she wanted to stab him a hundred times.

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