Page 39 of Love to Defy You (The Dark Love #2)

But my reason for living is slipping away from me again.

The wedding ceremony took place earlier at a small chapel in Olininburg, but the reception is outdoors at a venue on the outskirts of town. The tables and dance floor are set up in a clearing surrounded by pine trees, and as the sun dips below the treetops, the dense forest gets darker.

I watch Ivan—my dad’s driver/security detail—dance with his wife and their three-year-old son on the dance floor, surrounded by couples swaying beneath the crisscrossed bistro lights.

Dad and Galina haven’t shown up yet, and I don’t want to think about what they’re doing in the back of the limousine they’re arriving in.

I grab my glass of white wine and knock it back, but when I stand up to go to the bar for another, my heel catches on a rock, and I stumble.

“Whoa, careful there.”

I stumble into a wall of muscle, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like I’m in Alek’s arms. But when I look up, Enzo’s dark eyes are staring back at me, and his aquatic cologne takes me back to that night at the fondue restaurant when he watched Alek touch me under the table.

“You made it,” I say.

“You’re blushing.” Enzo’s voice is gruff.

“Oh, um, it’s the wine.” I hold up my empty wineglass. “I was going to get another.”

“I’ll accompany you.” Enzo places his hand on the small of my back and leads me over to the bar, which is situated on the opposite end of the clearing from my table. I’ll bet Dad did that on purpose to make it inconvenient for me to access the booze.

I rest my elbow on the bar top and slump as Enzo orders for us. He’s wearing a fitted navy suit, with a white button-up shirt, and...

“Your tie.”

Enzo glances down and adjusts the tie clip. “What about it?”

“It’s the same color as my dress.” I play with the hem of my pink tea-length dress, running my finger along the seam.

He grins. “Aw, we match. We’re so cute.”

“Shut up.” I bump my shoulder against his, and he chuckles.

The bartender hands us our drinks, but as we carry them back to our table, quite a bit spills over the rim from my swerving, unsteady gait.

Enzo pulls out my chair for me, and I melt into it like liquid. He takes the seat next to me and leans forward. “Are you drunk already?”

I narrow my gaze at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I don’t judge.”

“For your information, this is only my second glass.” I move my hand to tap my glass, but instead, I nearly knock it over, and red wine spills onto the white linen tablecloth. “Ah, fuck.”

“I’ve got it.” Enzo unfolds the napkin at his place setting and pats the stain. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“No.” I take a sip from my glass, but I spilled so much that it’s almost empty. “Okay, fine. I took a few pills.”

Enzo glances at me, then back at the stain. “I see.” He gives up and folds his napkin into a square before setting it back on his charger plate. “Sounds like I have some catching up to do.”

I feign a scoff. “Yeah, Enzo. Get on my level.”

His dark eyes sparkle with humor as he raises his whiskey tumbler to his lips. “Is that a challenge?” He knocks back the entire contents of his glass in one gulp.

“Enzo! Enzo!” I chant, clapping with each repetition. This earns me a few curious glances from the other guests, but I don’t give a shit about them. They’re either ambassadors, consulate employees, or part of Galina’s extended family. I’ll never see these people again.

Enzo sets his glass down on the table with a contented sigh.

I lean closer to him and lower my voice. “See that old guy over there?” I jut my chin at a nearby table. “That’s the Canadian ambassador to Andarusia. He hit on me when I was seventeen.”

Enzo glances in his direction. “So now I have to compete with Aleksandr and the Canadian ambassador for your affection?”

When he turns back to me, our noses almost touch, and I grow still when his eyes drop to my lips. “Just the Canadian ambassador now.” My voice is breathless. “Isn’t he a silver fox? I think I’ll call him daddy.”

Enzo doesn’t laugh at my joke. “What happened to Aleksandr? Did you two break up?”

His delicious cologne distracts me when we’re this close, and it’s making it hard to think straight, so I lean back to put some distance between us.

“Well, to break up with someone, you have to inform them of said breakup.” I knock back the last dregs of wine from my glass and set it down harder than necessary. “Let’s do shots.”

I start to stand, but Enzo puts his hand on my knee and pushes me back down onto the chair. “You’re deflecting.”

“It’s a party, Enzo. You don’t have to take shots with me, but don’t get in my way.”

I try to stand up again, but this time, he grabs my wrist and yanks me down onto his lap.

“Enzo!” I hiss, glancing around to see if anyone’s watching. “Let me go.”

He wraps his arm around my waist. “Is that why you’re taking pills? Because Aleksandr broke up with you?” I struggle in his lap, but his hold is tight. “Don’t grind your ass on my cock unless you intend to do something about it.”

With a huff, I stop struggling and slump my shoulders. “Alek didn’t break up with me. He left me on read and ghosted me.”

“Oh.” His mischievous grin fades. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want to talk about him tonight.” I glance at the engagement ring on my finger, which seems to get heavier with each day I don’t hear from him. “I just want to get drunk and forget about him for one goddamn night. Is that too much to ask?”

He caresses his thumb against my hip. “Let me help you forget him.”

As I stare into his dark gaze, I raise my hand to trace his chiseled jawline, then skim his bottom lip, which parts at my touch. I drag my fingers down to his chest, over the hard lines of muscle, and rest my hand there.

He runs his tongue across his lips. Leaning closer, Enzo murmurs my name, and I sit frozen on his lap.

Enzo is about to kiss me.

Enzo is about to kiss me, and I’m not sure if I want him to or not. My judgment isn’t exactly at peak performance in this haze of pills and alcohol.

If I want to piss off Alek, kissing his enemy would get the job done. I can’t think of a better way to get back at him, and Enzo’s already offered to let me use him to get into Alek’s head.

But before I can make up my mind, the music stops, and the DJ taps the microphone to test it. It rings out through the speakers, startling me, and I hastily untangle myself from Enzo’s lap.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” the DJ announces in English. “Introducing for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. David Baker.”

I glance at the gravel driveway, where a white limousine is parked. My dad emerges first from the back seat, then extends his hand to help Galina out. Her dress is simple but flattering for her petite figure, and her hips sway as they walk arm in arm toward the party.

As they pass our table on the way to the dance floor, my dad stops and gives me a peck on the cheek. “Love you, kiddo.”

If he saw me sitting on Enzo’s lap, he doesn’t show it, but I hope he was too swept up in the romance of his wedding day to notice. “Love you too, Dad.”

A new ballad starts to play, and my dad squeezes my hand before taking Galina to the dance floor. He leads her in a slow dance as they wear identical joyous grins.

That was supposed to be Alek and me one day. We were supposed to dance at our wedding and vow to love each other forever. But instead, Alek fucked with my mind, used my body, and shattered my soul, and all that’s left of me is a black, empty void.

“I can’t do this right now.” I hurry away from the table, setting off across the venue toward the bar as couples join the bride and groom on the dance floor. Since everyone is busy dancing, I’m the only one in line. “Tequila shot, please. Actually, make it two.”

The bartender nods and gets to work while I drum my fingers on the counter, trying to expel this nervous energy in any other way besides tears.

I turn around and rest my elbows on the counter to survey the party.

Dad was right—there aren’t a lot of people here my age to talk to except for Enzo, but he’s already struck up a conversation with one of the wedding photographers.

A woman around Galina’s age steps up to the bar on my left. She looks at me with a kind smile and says something unintelligible.

I shrug my shoulders. “Sorry, I don’t speak Russian.”

“Oh, I was saying I love your engagement ring.” She points at my left hand that’s tapping the counter. “It’s stunning.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“Thanks.” My voice cracks, but she’s too distracted by my ring to notice. This ring is one of those novelty finger traps kids win at the arcade, but instead of bamboo, it’s made from spiked metal and lavish gemstones.

“Wow, he’s a rich guy, yeah?” she says with a thick Russian accent. “You’re so lucky.”

I can’t swallow down the lump in my throat. “Yeah.”

Why can’t I say it? Why can’t I tell her that my fiancé ghosted me and left me with an expensive ring I can never sell because I can’t take it off? That this ring is a painful reminder of the betrayal that Alek blindsided me with.

“Do you have a date set for the wedding?” At last, she looks up from my ring and gives me a warm smile.

“I...” I chew my bottom lip. “Well, actually...”

“We’ll have a summer wedding,” Enzo interrupts, snaking his arm around my waist. “We haven’t set a date yet, but we’re looking at venues.”

I avert my gaze to the ground as the tension releases from my shoulders, and I melt into Enzo’s side.

“But we can’t seem to agree on where,” Enzo embellishes. “I want to have it in Sicily, but she insists on getting married here in Andarusia.”

I take a deep breath and turn into him, placing my hand on his chest. I’ll go along with his bit. “Yes, but you’ll give in to me eventually because you’re hopelessly in love with me.”

“Okay, fine, Andarusia it is.” Enzo lets out a light, practiced laugh. “What can I say? I’m a fool in love.”