Chapter 3: Deadly Dance

A young woman, appearing to be in her mid to late twenties, approaches our group with an air of entitlement. Her blonde hair cascades gracefully, and her blush pink cocktail dress accentuates her supermodel perfect figure. She has a presence that demands attention. She gives me a brief haughty look before focusing on Aleksandr, flipping her hair with theatrical flair.

“Are you planning to watch me catch the bouquet, Aleksandr?” Her tone carries a note of condescension. Her vaguely Eastern European accent matches Aleksandr’s and the rest of his family’s, hinting at their shared background.

“It’s a customary practice, you know,” she adds. “The one who catches the bouquet is said to…”

“Perhaps another time, Tatiana,” Aleksandr cuts her off, his irritation thinly veiled behind a tight smile. “I’m engaged in a conversation with my new step-niece-in-law at the moment.”

He emphasises the ridiculous sounding “step-niece-in-law” and gives me a quick wink, our silly little in-joke, and I barely suppress a giggle.

Tatiana looks from Aleksandr to me and back again, clearly not happy about our friendly banter.

“Very well,” she says, rolling her eyes dismissively. “Do let me know when you’re done with the trivial chit-chat, Aleksandr.”

Suppressing a reaction to her rudeness, I shift my attention elsewhere. She’s probably a bitch to everyone she meets, I reason, attempting to remain unfazed.

As the orchestra tunes up and the music begins, couples take to the lawn to dance beneath the enchanting glow of golden fairy lights. My mom and Konstantin dance elegantly, lost in their moment. Meanwhile, Aleksandr remains nearby, his gaze directed at them.

Glancing at Aleksandr discreetly, I feel a mix of intrigue and self-consciousness. The attraction is undeniable, and I struggle to maintain my composure.

Goddammit, he’s sexy as hell. Feeling a familiar tingling spreading between my legs, a rising heat as I stand in the presence of the hottest man I’d ever seen, I bite my lip in a futile attempt to quell my desire.

Could it be… is he checking me out too? No, focus. Tatiana’s clinging to him like a shadow, and I won’t play second fiddle to her theatrics.

As Konstantin and my mom elegantly glide onto the dance floor, they leave Aleksandr and me in the company of his mother, Anya. The energy shifts palpably. Anya’s icy blue eyes evaluate Tatiana with a faint smirk curving her lips.

“So, Aleksandr, is this another one of your temporary amusements?” She asks him, her words biting with a hint of sarcasm. “Where did you find this one – on a street corner?”

Tatiana’s face flushes with indignation, and her sharp gaze lands on Aleksandr, seeking his defence. “Hey, that’s not fair! You don’t know anything about me! For your information, I’m the third daughter of the Florea clan. Tell her, Aleksandr!”

As Konstantin and my mom glide onto the dance floor, leaving Aleksandr and me with his mother, Anya, the atmosphere changes. Anya’s cold blue eyes assess Tatiana, and a smirk graces her lips. “So, Aleksandr, is this another one of your temporary companions? Did you find her on a street corner?” Her tone carries a cutting edge.

Tatiana’s anger heats her expression, and she aims a sharp look at Aleksandr, anticipating his defence. “Hey, that’s not fair! You don’t know anything about me!”

Aleksandr remains unperturbed, his indifference to Tatiana’s expectation evident. He pivots towards me, extending his hand with practised ease. “Arianna, care to dance?”

His invitation catches me off guard, leaving me momentarily uncertain. Tatiana’s narrowed eyes suggest she realises his attention has shifted. I muster my courage, placing my hand in his.

We sway to the centre of the lawn, joining the other couples in a gentle waltz. His hand rests on the small of my back, electrically cool through the fabric of my dress. My heartbeat races, and I strive to maintain my poise.

“So, what’s the story behind your family’s insistence on a nighttime wedding?” I inquire, aiming for a casual tone. “It’s sort of weird.”

“It’s a tradition in the family,” Aleksandr answers, his lips curving into a faint smile.

“Interesting…” I murmur, ransacking my mind for a conversation starter.

Under the enchanting radiance of golden fairy lights, I glimpse Tatiana on the sidelines, her expression twisted with envy.

“I think your girlfriend is glaring at me,” I comment, just as Aleksandr dips me momentarily before raising me again.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to call her a girlfriend,” he says breezily, his lips curving into a flirtatious grin. “She’s more of a short-term fling, nothing substantial,” he adds nonchalantly. “Just a convenient date for my older brother’s wedding. We’ve only been acquainted for a blink, and she’s already talking about a future. That means she’ll likely be history in a matter of days. Can’t stand clingy types.”

I blush at his brutal honesty, my heartbeat quickening. “Do you think you’ll ever settle down?” I ask, challenging him with a raised eyebrow.

An eyebrow of his own rises, and a playful smirk touches his lips. “I’ll have to find the right woman first,” he quips.

Music surrounds us, and the moment feels surreal. As we move together, the undeniable allure between us intensifies, growing with every step.

But our captivating dance comes to an unexpected halt as it’s time for the bouquet toss.

Tatiana’s competitive streak flares. She positions herself determinedly, clearly aiming to catch the bouquet. Though hesitant, I decide to join in, encouraged by others.

My mom, standing at the arbour, holds the bouquet of white calla lilies aloft as the music reaches its crescendo. An unexpected surge of energy compels me to jump, reaching for the bouquet. Tatiana lunges forward, eager to claim it for herself. Fate intervenes – the bouquet lands in my grasp. Before I can fully process my win, Tatiana charges into me, snatching the bouquet as she does. The force of the impact catches me off guard, and I feel a sharp pain followed by the warmth of blood trickling from my nose as I lie on the grass.

Carefully touching my face, I find it slick with blood. Embarrassment floods me as I realise what’s happened. Panic surges as I look around, hoping that my mishap has gone unnoticed.

To my dismay, every single pair of eyes is fixed on me. The crowd’s expressions are a mix of astonishment, shock, and even horror. More than a hundred faces are facing me, their attention fixed on my little disaster. The previously lively atmosphere freezes. The music and the sound of conversation and champagne flutes clinking has abruptly stopped, enveloping the scene in a sudden deathly silence.

Tatiana, closest to the scene, abandons the bouquet and stares at my bloody nose. Raising my hand to wipe away the blood, I attempt to salvage my dignity, but it proves futile.

Tatiana’s eyes widen further, and then she does the weirdest thing – she licks her lips.

And then it clicks – the unsettling hunger in her gaze. But it isn’t just her; others are looking at me with an odd intensity, like I’m an unexpected delicacy.

And one by one, they begin to edge forward towards me.