Chapter 8 :: désillusionné

The Space in our Hearts

Chapter 8

How was I supposed to react? The air she carries as she spoke those words, is she still even the sister that I know and grew up with?

He was bored...It echoed.

Bored? Then what was our relationship to him? an entertainment?

Why hasn't he said anything? He could've asked to broken up. But he didn't, was it that fun playing me and my sister?

"Jade." I can make out mom calling me, but it's as if it's distant.

Every voice in our backyard falling to a low murmur as my laughter—A chuckle, slowly cascading into laughter, then a halt— bursts. The burn of the crowd's gazes didn't bother me more than the hot piercing gaze I very well known my father is casting me right now. Enough to bring the hairs on my nape to stand on ends. Shifting away from Jane's clutches I stiffened the moment my limbs begun to shake.

"Jade? What's this about?"  My father, stern and sharp. Enough to transfix me into place. But I didn't yield. Why am I to, I am the one whose being wronged here.

"Ask Jane." I answered. My eyes locked in a glare with Zion's. In my left— the monster— my sister flinched.

"What is this about Mija?" Dad, sickeningly sweet towards my sister. How unfair. My head hunged low as I swallowed the bitter taste spreading in my mouth, this is a dream. This should be a dream. A nightmare. Please. A sob and I was lost, at first a laughter and now a crying mess. Tempted to reach for my ring and smash it to my fiancè face.

"Jade!" My mom panicked rushing to steady me as my legs wobbled. But instead of my mother's soft slender hands, there was another. A man's, it was big enough to cover a big portion of my shoulders, fingers long and strong warping around it. Then gasps. I turned my head up to my mother's widened eyes and Father's sneering look, down of my shoulders with the strangers hands around.

"Jade, what is this." A warning tone and I froze, again for the nth time tonight. My mind swarming with things. Who's holding me. Is it Zion? But that's impossible, Zion's hands are a bit more smaller, and shorter.

"I am pretty sure Jade, is the one being wronged her Mr. Fontaballes." A voice spoke behind me, his voice—deep and thick with a Italian accent— vibrating against my back, meaning he is close enough. A trail of electricity spreading along my skin leaving goosebumps in it's wake making me shudder as his grip tightened. Oh this man... who is he?

"What are you talking about, Mr. Fernandez? I suggest you step out of my family matters." My father words brought me back to reality. I should get out of this person's grip, but deep inside of me protests not to. Why? Is it the comfort he gives? The safety? I am clearly so far gone to even think straight, having contracting feelings for a stranger.

Oh god, I just found out today that my finacè and sister is cheating on me!. And my father. Our father is clearly siding with, Jane no matter what. A deep low chuckle rumbled from deep inside my chest leading my shoulders to shake. Everyone... family members down to our closest business associates, will now know our perfect  looking families messed up and laughable truth.

But it's not just that I am worried about, it is me who'd be put in the middle of all this. The Idiot, laughing stock, and the woman who got shitted on the head by her fiancè. I should speak. Tell them the truth. Scream and  cry and hurt my fiance and my father and my sister. Tell my  goddamned cruel father and too much of a martyr of a mother what's happening... But I didn't.

I stood there frozen, like a prey in front of a predator. My mouth quivering and I shake my head, hot tears falling down my cheeks. I sobbed and the scent of Pine and aftershave, it was nothing like Zion's who smelled like Lavender. Then a whiff of wind and it mixed with the slightest smell of cigar and rum. He's been smoking and drinking then.

"I think I am." The man retorted. No one has even had the balls to talk back to my father, more importantly in the business world. No one, and if ever there are, then they must've been gone long since there no one here to tell otherwise. I furrowed my brows as I attempted to peek, to look at the man behind me but his hands restrained me. Frozen in my place, in front of my scowling father, with lines hard on his face from clenching his jaw hard, lips tight and eyes darted straight behind me.

"Mr. Abramo Fernandez, I respect you enough to ask you leave my family business alone. But any more of this and I will take it as an offence."

" Then please, enlighten me." Abramo Fernandez, countered. His stance behind me never wavering along with his voice, while two men with a slick black suit and scarlet ties, and earpieces on wire along their ears—the security personels—stride fast, handing a brown manila envelope towards my father as they arrived.

"What is this, Mr. Fernandez?" My Father, ignoring the paper, gaze stayed hard directed to Abramo. I know well what that gaze is and I can't even comprehend what'll happen to this man's company.

"Why don't you go ahead and try opening it, Mr. Fontaballes, so I can prove my point." He countered, along with his fingers brushing gently down my shoulder, delicate, almost as if I am a fragile thing that may brake.

Abramo Y Fernandez... Just who are you? Why are you doing this?  What are you trying to do?... My brow pinched together as I nudged my arms away from him... That face... It was him, the guy who saved me moments ago. Slowly his gaze slid down towards me softening for a slit of a second before his jaw tensed turning me around once again as he leaned down the side of my face.

"What are you—" my hushed words cut short as his hot breath fanned my ear, a shiver run up my spine and my back straightened... Why's my reaction like this?

"Trust me, mia dolce." The was he purred those words... My eyes settled on a array of flowers on a table as I took in a shaky breath... This is bad... The worse.