The second she saw the guest, she'd forgotten her cheerful spirit. Immense regret settled in.
The woman was the epitome of beauty and sexiness, standing before Maria with the confidence of her long, slender legs and the aura of a superstar.
With Sarkon, they instantly make the perfect power couple—the swooning envy of everyone in Lenmont.
Maria included.
Almost the height of Sarkon, the woman turned Maria, who came to her shoulder, into a midget.
The huge height difference was never a problem when she was with Sarkon. Maria loved looking up at his striking face and gazing into his mesmerizing blue eyes. She felt like a woman, his woman, each time he towered over her.
Now, she felt small, insignificant, and kiddish.
The beautiful guest flipped her thick, wavy hair in a sensuous way and battered her doll-like lashes. Then, those glossy, red lips that put Maria's rosy ones to shame broke into a smile of amusement.
Maria felt like an animal in the zoo.
“You're right, baby."
Baby? Maria's heart stopped.
The woman folded her lean arms below her plump breasts, almost spilling out from the square neckline of her mid-thigh, skin-hugging dress.
“She's really lovely. I'm sure she'll get a good husband in no time." She turned to Sarkon and added, “You don't have to worry."
At that remark, Maria stared at her guardian.
Sarkon was in his usual stance: both hands tucked in his pockets, his broad muscled chest puffed out and, as usual, he said nothing.
Sarkon wants me to get a husband? Maria's mind was swirling in the dark hole of the woman's words, feeling her insides cracking and crumbling.
Sarkon moved closer to his guest and laid an arm around her shoulder. The bright smile widened into a victorious grin as Sarkon's rich, deep voice sounded. “Maria, this is Lovette, my girlfriend."
“Girlfriend?" Maria's voice was a thin whisper. Suddenly, she felt like one of those women who failed to capture his attention. A stranger. That icy expression seemed harsher than usual. Her cheeks immediately lost their warmth.
Lovette stretched out a hand. Her chocolatey voice followed in a delighted tune. “A pleasure to meet you, Maria. Your uncle's told me all about you and what a wonderful girl you've been."
He's already told her about me? Maria realized miserably then immediately shook herself out of stupor. Stop it. It's very clear, isn't it? This, she eyed at Lovette and her voluptuous figure, is his type.
Did she really misunderstand what she saw that evening at the beach?
Maria noticed the smooth and silky skin of her hand and balled hers into fists to stop them from going to her neck. Then, the blisters on her fingers stung her, and she felt more degraded.
Maria lifted her gaze, pulled her lips into a nice, warm smile, and curtsied instead.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Lovette. You're very beautiful. Uncle Sarkon always has an exquisite taste in beauty." Thankfully, her voice was back to normal.
“Oh god, no!" The mistress squealed in embarrassment. “Lovette, please. We're family now!" She exclaimed with a wink.
No, we're not, Maria groaned silently then chided herself for behaving like a sullen teenager. You're way past that age. And Sarkon wouldn't appreciate it. He'd expect your support.
Maria gave her best smile. “Of course, we are."
Sarkon turned to his butler, and Albert swiftly left. The mighty businessman returned to his enchanting mistress with an unusually soft tone.
“You must be famished, dear."
“I am, baby," Lovette pouted and tightened her hold onto Sarkon's thick arm.
Maria watched with a bitter taste in her mouth as Sarkon leaned into the woman's ear lovingly. Her spirits dropped another level when Lovette giggled alluringly.
Sarkon pulled back and pinched a fair cheek, "Sorry to make you wait."
As Maria mulled over the fact that Sarkon has never apologized to anyone, her uncle strode to the long, rectangular dining table and pulled out a chair.
Lovette clicked her high heels over and took the seat.
Maria watched dumbfounded as Sarkon sat beside her instead of taking his usual seat at the end of the table. She looked away then quietly took the chair nearest to her, from across them.
“Do you play the violin, Maria?" Lovette casually asked while chewing on the steak that Sarkon had earlier sliced up for her.
Maria swallowed and replied, “Yes, I do." She glanced at Sarkon and added, “Uncle Sarkon loves my performances."
Lovette flashed a knowing smile at the bronze giant, “He always said that I should hear it once."
“How about now?" Maria suggested with a hopeful glee.
Lovette waved a hand, “Oh don't worry, sweetie. I'm sure there'll be plenty of time."
Maria turned to Sarkon with puzzling brows.
Lovette snuggled against Sarkon's biceps and purred like a kitten, “I'm moving in tomorrow, aren't I, baby?"
Maria's knitted brows arched in a heartbroken shock.
Sarkon put down his fork and quietly reached out his left hand to cover Lovette's. He faced Maria. His striking blue eyes bore into her green sparkles as he announced coldly, “Lovette's moving in with us."
Moving… in... with… us…
Moving in… with us…
Moving in with us…
Sarkon's voice kept twirling in Maria's mind. She couldn't move until someone tugged at her sleeves. She turned to the person.
“Miss Maria, you dropped your napkin." Sophie was smiling at her, but her eyes looked worried.
Maria looked down at the napkin on her lap and instantly recomposed herself. After thanking her maid, she gripped her utensils, looked up with a vibrant smile, and apologized with a newfound confidence.
“Sorry about that. I suddenly recalled something about… school."
“Oh, it's alright," Lovette waved her hand energetically. She propped her elbows on the table, clasped her fingers together, rested her chin on top, and smiled sweetly at Maria, battering her lashes, “For a moment I thought you weren't happy with me moving in."
“Oh, no, no, no. In fact, I'm glad you're moving in, Lovette."
“Really?"
“Yes. It's getting quite boring here with just Uncle Sarkon. I'd love some female company." Maria raised her glass and cheered, “Welcome to our home, Lovette."
With a satisfied grin, the mistress lifted her glass as well and sipped from it, then happily returned to her food.
Good job, Maria applauded herself silently. She sneaked a glance at her uncle, hoping for some acknowledgment or the appreciative nod he'd give her when she did something right.
But Sarkon remained transfixed on Lovette.
Maria took the hint and decided to mind her own business for the rest of the evening when Sarkon called her name.
Her useless chin shot up with anticipation.
“When is your first day of school?"
Maria swallowed the lump of disappointment in her throat and answered like a child on the verge of being abandoned, “Next Monday."
“School?" Lovette interjected with a curious glance.
Maria nodded with a weak smile.
“Walden College," Sarkon calmly added.
Lovette swung around with a shocked expression, “The Walden College?"
Sarkon quietly took a bite of his steak and chewed it with a deadpan face.
Not getting the response she needed, Lovette turned back to Maria, “That's the most prestigious university. All the offspring of the rich and famous go there."
Maria maintained a friendly smile. “Uncle Sarkon chose it for me."
“Maria will have only the best," Sarkon declared quietly without looking at anyone. He placed his glass at his lips and sipped on the red wine.
The butterflies roused once more, and Maria tried again to catch another familial glance from her protector when he turned to Lovette and covered her hand with his again.
“You too, dear," he added in that loving tone. “Only the best for you."
Lovette threw her arms around her lover's neck with shrieks of thrill. “You're the best, baby! I love you so much. You deserve a kiss. C'mere," She tipped the giant's charming chin with a finger and lured it toward her with an inviting gaze.
Sarkon moved closer…
Maria abruptly stood and excused herself politely. “I'll give you two some privacy."
Just before Sarkon's lips touched another's, his admirer walked out of the dining hall without looking back.
*****
Sarkon had the intense gaze of a beast.
Dark, thick eyebrows that seized your mind. Hypnotic, deep-set eyes that drew you in when they looked at you. A stare from him could make you forget your own name.
His nose had a nice shape; a perfect fit for his face.
And his lips…
Maria remembered the paintbrush in her hand. She moved her hand away and unveiled the complete portrait of the love of her life.
She stared at it for a long period of silence, repeating every moment of yesterday's dinner, every movement her uncle made, and every syllable spoken in his voice.
Then, she let out a long, defeated sigh. Was it really the end? Was there really no chance for her to be Sarkon's wife?