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988 Words
“Let's go back to the party, it's time to greet the guest.”
I don't say anything as I let him grab my hand and lead me out of the restroom.
I was struggling to fathom what had just happened.
Did he just get rid of the only way to find Isobel?
Why would he do that?
Tears sting at the corner of my eyes. Who the hell is this man?
When we returned to the party, I saw Mother approach me, smiling sweetly like the doll that she was.
“I’m glad you found her, Ace. I didn't know she would take that long in the restroom, I could have found her myself.”
She told Ace where I was? I should have guessed! Mom is slowly becoming the bane of my existence.
Ace didn't respond, didn't even acknowledge her with something as simple as a smile, and just continued pulling me along.
I looked back at Mom, hoping she would see the drop of tears at the corner of my eyes and sense something was wrong right away. But, what was I expecting?
Mother just kept her doll smile planted on her face, watching Ace drag me along.
Foolish woman.
“Just smile and don't make any suspicion.”
Ace whispered to me as we approached a group of elderly men.
He didn't need to tell me to do that. I was planning to do just that for the rest of the night.
One of the men, bald, tall, clean shaves, square-shaped face, walked up to us—or rather, Julian—extending his frail hand for a handshake. Ace takes it without hesitation.
“Non sapevo che saresti uscito dal mercato così presto.”
Didn't know you’d be off the market so soon.
“Faccio le mie regole.”
I make my own rules.
The man chuckled and gave a friendly pat on his shoulder, stepping away and allowing another man in his age group to step forward. Compared to the first man who extended his greetings, he was short and sturdy.
“Congratulazioni, Don Ace.”
I should believe that meant Congratulations in what sounded like Italian.
Ace gave him a nod. Does this man ever smile?
“Ma sicuramente conosci i tuoi gusti. Non ha diciotto anni o qualcosa del genere?”
But you definitely know your tastes. Isn't she eighteen or something?
The old man let his gaze run over my body and I suddenly became curious about what he was saying to Ace. Are they also talking about our wedding night like every other person in the f*****g party?
“So che l'hai scelta per le cose strane. Fa un bel giro? Ho sentito che lo fanno le ragazze della sua età.”
I know you chose her for the freaky stuff. Does she give a good ride? I heard girls her age does.
“I’d prefer you keep your opinions about my woman to yourself else I won't hesitate to rip open your throat.”
My breath caught in my throat. I hadn't expected that response from Ace. No, I hadn't suspected in the least that they could be talking about something that personal.
Ace sounded too protective and defensive which even frightened me the more. Why was he? Is that how he acted towards every women he met? Something was off.
Another man walked up to us. Unlike the other men, he appeared clean and collected. He was also very charismatic.
Surprisingly, this man spoke English.
“It’s nice to meet you, Liebling.”
It took me seconds to realize he was referring to me. I instantly shot him a smile.
“Me too.”
I returned, looking around awkwardly. The way he gazed down at me was so creepy. It made the hair at the back of my neck stand. It was as if he knew something. As if he could pick out every little secret I possessed by merely staring at me.
Is this how they always are? Creepy and intimidating?
“How about the other one? Is it Isobel?”
My head snapped up at the mention of my sister’s name. Though, he was now turned to Ace, referring to him.
He knows about Isobel?
“I thought she was the fianceè, isn't it?”
Ace said nothing, staring right back at the man like he could twist his neck right there and watch him take his last breath.
“Dove l'hai tenuta?”
Ace’s expression suddenly hardened at the question and he walked up to the man, whispered something into his ear—probably a threat—and watched him stalk away.
Something was wrong. No, something had to be.
Ace met other guests, all the way from Russia, Mexico, Chicago, Miami, and France. And, he spoke all freaking languages like his mother’s tongue.
He spoke Spanish, French, Russian, and some other languages I couldn't quite place.
Either way, I snuck out of his sight when I noticed him engrossed in a French conversation.
Dove lai Tenuta
Dove lai Tenuta
I sang the words of that man like a rhymes continually.
Ever since my encounter with that man and how Ace’s expression hardened when he asked that question with that language, I had kept singing the pronunciation of the words in my head for when I could finally find a secretive place and do my research on what that meant.
Immediately I found a corner, a guest-free zone, a fished out the phone I stole from my mother’s bag when she wasn't looking and went straight in search of its meaning.
Dove Lai Tenuta
I typed slowly in the search bar. Then, it brought it out - the right spelling along with its meaning.
And the meaning said: “Where did you keep her?”
I remembered him saying that right after he asked about Isobel and I froze.
Did this devil—?
- Writer
