hapter 4

"Everything that looks too perfect is too perfect to be perfect.

- Dejan Stojanovic

IRIS

"Hi." I said.

"Buona serata." (Good evening)

He said nothing other than his pleasantry. Unlike in the usual romcom where the guy would compliment the girl upon first seeing her, this oaf didn't even breathe a word about my outfit. He didn't even look me up and down with astonishment, just the same straight face.

"You look nice." I smiled.

It wasn't a lie, he did look nice. He begrudgingly always did.

His night club wear was not far from his work attire. Now that I mention it I was starting to think all he'd done was change into a black dress shirt, ditched the jacket and tie then popped two buttons to show off his Grecian sculpted chest.

"It seems you haven't just upgraded your sense of fashion but also your eyesight as well." He nodded his head before dragging his eyes away from me and towards his watch. "Are you ready to go?"

Yeah to fucking maul you to death, you asshole.

"Yes."

"You look suitable." He said after quickly running his eyes over my frame as if I were a dilapidated building that you didn't need to look twice at to know you'd sell it.

Gritting my teeth behind a forced smile. I replied with a tongue bitten answer.

"Thank you."

He outstretched his hand to me and I took it as I'm led to the stairs and down, out to the car where the doors where already waiting open for us.

"You're not driving?" I asked, my brows sewn together in one.

"We'll be drinking so I decided to be safe and smart. As I'd rather not meet my demise in such a way." He replied absentmindedly as he walked over to his side whilst staring down at his phone.

The driver held his hand out and helped me duck into the car like a real gentleman would, something the dick who sat by my side seemed to now know how to do.

With a slam of the doors, we were off. Rolling out the gates of the Devil's estate and into the beginning of a silence that was eardrum shattering. Ear deafening. It was astronomical.

And that was by no means an exaggeration, I could literally hear my own brain tossing our earlier encounter in the incinerator. It wasn't only the most awkward situation in my life but also the worst compliment I'd ever received in my life.

I must have been starting to look ready to jump out the car when Luca finally broke the thick silence which had filled the car. His voice cut through like a hot knife through butter.

"The party we're attending is a social gala for prospective investors for my company. I would...suggest that perhaps if you were to be entangled in a conversation, simply smile and add no contributions."

I could internally hear my teeth grinding in annoyance.

"So smile and look...pretty?"

He spared me a glance, it's brief. It's a look you give someone to gauge their reaction or a bear you stumble upon.

"What do you know about fiscal reports and book keeping?"

My brows knotted in confusion and irritation, and for a second I wasn't sure who the irritation was at, him or me. I cursed myself for not doing at least some research on common business terms but I had doubted that people at a nightclub would talk about business.

Damn it, I couldn't admit I knew squat. I'd look inferior in comparison to him or worse he'd doubt my intellectual capabilities for not knowing something so—

"I'll assume from your silence not very much." He interrupted my train of thoughts as he stared ahead at the road, like an empty husk. "Most likely, most of the conversation at the party will center on business and I'm certain you aren't well acquainted with such a subject matter."

"So, I would recommend, simply smiling and nodding along with whatever is said."

Oh so this is him looking out for him. Well, he can take that and shove it up his—

"Thank you, you are very considerate." I said as always tongue in cheek.

"No thanks are required." He shrugged like the cocky little bastard he is. As if he really believed he was doing me a favor.

We said nothing much after that, instead I spent my time imagining far too many Luca death scenarios that one, I barely noticed the thick silence that settled around us once more and two, it was far too many for a sane person.

I was becoming an unsettling person around this man.

Thankfully, for his sake, before I could grab the wheel from the driver and crash us into a tree assuming the role of a mourning widow, we got to the party's venue. It was like what you'd expect for A-listers and not business men who had golden rods up their ass and talked about fiscal reports at a nightclub. Paparazzi flashed their cameras behind red roped stanchions whilst cars pulled up to the valet.

The second I opened the door and stepped out onto the rolled out red carpet of the Carmine, with Luca by my side like the 'loving husband' he is. I'm quickly blinded by the lights and the sounds. The press throwing questions at us from all directions, it makes my head spin.

Bald Barry asks, who I am. Plaid Pete, asks who we're wearing and Nosey Ned, wants to know if we're expecting.

I hate to admit it but having Luca to hold on to whilst being temporary removed of sight was actually...amazing. He tosses one word answers to whichever questions he wants and glides us towards the doors of Carmine which are guarded by large splotches which yell at paparazzi to stay behind the ropes.

The sensory overload of lights was quickly swapped out as soon as the doors of Carmine opened. The music was pounding, it was so loud I could feel The Weeknd in my bones, I also wasn't sure if I could see or not as it was so dark.

I had to show some gratitude however to the red strobe lights made me able to see my hands granted as long as they weren't too far away from my face.

It's the little blessings.

Luca, who seemed to know the layout far too well, led me past people who ground their bodies into each other like it was The Human Centipede 4. Liquor and the insatiable primal need of sex clogged my nose, that and the axe body spray, one male had decided to take a bath in. The bars were packed with people who ordered their poison with elation and I was 99 per cent sure there was a guy strapped with too many rings who was doing something shady in the corner.

He dragged me up the glass stairs and past a bodyguard who looked like he could bench press the building. They did a nod at each other before he pulled back the velvet ropes of the VIP section. A Bellini is handed to me by him as a waiter passed by with a tray.

Luca leaned in close to my ear. "Stay away from the hard stuff."

And like that he released me and he's gone off to chat with more men in business suits.

"You can't tell me what to do." I grumbled with the glass at my lips.

Man, I loved a good Bellini. You could drink ten of them without even thinking about it, it was just that good and smooth to go down.

"Bellini huh?" A voice quipped from behind me.

The voice belonged to a man, he was around Luca's height and was the epitome of what most young girl's imagine their Prince Charming to look like. Pretty face, baby blues and the type of smile that could make birds sing on command.

"It's personally one of favorite drinks." He lifts his brows after he winked.

"Really? I would have taken you more for a shots kind of guy."

He held a hand up to his chest in mock hurt.

"That is very liquorcist, beautiful Miss." He rolled his eyes over me with an attractive smirk of someone with extreme practice.

If I didn't know better I would think he was flirting with me.

I rolled my eyes at him before holding my hand out for him to shake with a smile. "That's not a word and my name is Iris."

He had a strong grip.

"Fitting beautiful name for a beautiful girl. I'm—"

"Nikolai." Luca strolled over to us, one hand in his pocket and the other a glass of, I'm assuming straight gasoline. "I see you've met Iris."

"I have. I'm assuming you're then the Iris." Nikolai says to me, his smirk morphing into a friendly, non-sexual grin.

The Iris?

"Sei un figlio fortunato di una cagna." ( A lucky son of a bitch)

Nikolai chuckles, spitting out some words that not only go over my head because I'm significantly shorter than them but also because being married to Luca didn't grant me the infinite knowledge of any language outside of English and a little basic Spanish.

"Non sono d'accordo." (I do not agree)

Luca made a face which leads me to believe whatever Nikolai said, he disagreed with, wholeheartedly.

I won't lie, I was a little bristled as conversation passed right in front of my face and I couldn't even decipher a word. In fact I was tempted to excuse myself and do, well the exact thing but somewhere else. At least it would be English.

But before I could make my escape, he who shalt not be named beat me to it.

"I'll right be back. You two may continue your conversation."

And like that he was gone again, off to God knows where.

"Now that he's gone. How about we get something better than that Bellini?" Nikolai offered, a cheeky look crossing his Disney like face.

I scrunched my nose and frowned. "What's wrong with my Bellini? I thought you liked them."

"Yeah but you're nursing that damn thing." He cocked his brow, making a point of grabbing a Bellini from a passing waitress and downing the contents. He also gives her a long look as she saunters away. A real long look.

"I'm not in a rush to get drunk."

"You aren't driving though. Live a little."

"No but," I fumbled as he smirks knowing he's got me. "fine."

🌺

"I probably should have guessed you were a light weight." Nikolai said pulling from my hand, what I think is my sixth shot. It might have been my tenth, I'd lost count after three.

I squinted my eyes at him, my tongue heavy, slurring. "Me? I'm, I'm not. I swear. Just, Just tipsy. But only a teeny tiny smidge."

I have to lie to him, because if I tell him I'm drunk he's gonna make them take it away from me again.

"You're done for the night, young grasshopper." He laughed before throwing his head back and downing my shot.

Bigheaded, pretty faced show off.

"I think we should go find your husband."

I pulled a sour face—how can a face be sour in the first place?—at his statement. "Or we could continue drinking."

"Tempting."

The bird on my finger flips him off and I curse as I stumble off the bar stool. The ground swaying under my feet or perhaps it's me who almost topples but regardless I hate high heeled shoes. They're an abomination and the inventor should suffer in hell for creating such torture devices. In fact it is society who should pay for their actions for telling us women that we look better in these spiked shoes of hell—

"Iris, you with me?" He snapped his fingers in front of my face.

"Yup. Yes."

"Stay here, I'm going to find Luca. And no more drinking." He scolded like the Prince Charming he is.

I mean what else could he be with all the birds flitting about his head.

My mom with how he tuts and fusses like that. Even though I doubt birds would ever fly around my mom, she's more evil queen than Snow White.

He helped me to take seat on the many couches in the VIP section that has the most amazing feng sheui.

Rubbing my hand on the soft material of the couch, I nodded unconsciously to whatever it was Niko was counting, no, continuing to say. And before long he also leaves, not staggering even though I'm 20 million times pretty sure he's drank far more than I have.

Perhaps, perhaps that was the solution to my state, more alcohol. Of course, more alcohol and then I'd be as fine as him.

Swiping a drink off the passing staffs trays is an easy feat which shows me I fucked up big time being a human pandora box when instead I could have a been a ninja. I was clearly made for it. And if Niko came back and asked why I was drinking more, I'd tell him the truth.

Not that I was a ninja but that they were practically begging me to take them. Literally, the birds that didn't follow Niko were dragging me towards them. And who am I to say no to anyone.

The glass raised to my lips, a very shady corner catches my eye. There, a very familiar man was standing there, I couldn't decipher what he was doing but I suddenly realized just how much I wanted his stupid face to hear everything I thought of him. I mean I was all stocked of liquid courage, now was a better time than any.

Yeah, that's right I'd tell him how much I hated him and his face and his guts and his car and his house.

Downing the shot, I realized I could no longer taste my taste buds plus I was sure I'd scorched my throat. I sat the glass down and stumble off the ground, the ground a seesaw as I scuttled past men in suits who gave me odd looks. Even though I should have been the one to give them bad looks, they turned a party into a business meeting.

Who does that? Weirdos.

As I neared the shadowy nook, I realized the man wasn't alone. He was standing close to a woman, who was playing with her clothes like she wanted him to rip them off her. I watched as his hand disappeared up her skirt, as she giggled and fell against his chest. Her pretty brown hair covering her face.

"You're cheating on me?!"

His head whipped up so fast I thought it might break off from whiplash.

"You said you would be right back, you liar!" I yelled as best as I can over the club's music.

His eyes wide as he looked at me like I was a mad woman.

But I wasn't a lunatic, I was sane. A little tipsy but that was it. Perfectly sane. He was the crazy one, what kind of fucking lunatic cheats not even a 100 ft away from his wife.

"Iris, stop shouting."

A voice whispered fiercely, as I'm spun around to meet cognac eyes flashing in an irritated manner. "You're drawing attention and making a scene."

I snorted out a laugh as the familiar man I'd thought was Luca, moves past me along with his brunette friend. Both looking at me the way one regards a subject from an asylum.

He moved in close to me. "You're drunk."

"I mean I've never really thought of myself as a trunk before." I slurred looking to the side whilst tapping my cheek.

He gave me a frosty look.

"We're leaving."

"No. Make me."

"Questo è fottutamente infantile." (Well, this is fucking childish)

My vision is suddenly inverted, with the ground on the ceiling and people standing on their heads. I could get into this new world, honestly, it was whimsical.

Being drunk is always fun.

.....

The car door opens and the brisk breeze slaps me like a freight train. I'm not sure when I got into a car but soon I'm hauled out like trash out to the curb.

"Get off the ground, Iris."

I look up at the giants who phase in and out of each other, each one holding the bridge of their nose.

How can a nose have a bridge? Who's crossing the bridge? His fingers?

The giants groan in frustration and hands go under my body. Hauling me into the air, so naturally I latched onto the giant's body like a koala to a tree.

"Such a strong tree." I murmured, snuggling into the tree that didn't quite smell like a tree.

God, I could breathe this scent in all day.

The next big breathe I take in, I'm no longer stuck to my tree but soaking wet in a bath.

"What the fuck!" I sputtered as the cold water causes my nipples to harden, rubbing against the lace of my top and my haziness to retreat quickly.

Staring upwards at the straight faced man who's become one single entity pointing a shower head on me, I curse.

"You asshole, stop."

Thankfully, he doesn't need more than that and turns the water off.

"Why would you do that?"

I could already tell I looked a mess, my makeup must have been running down my face in an awful splotchy way. I wiped the droplets from my eyes making my makeup situation worse.

"You're drunk." He said.

"So you toss me in a tub and give me a bath?"

He disregarded my question and instead opted for his own.

"Can I ask you a question?"

It must have been rhetorical since he doesn't wait for my answer. "Is my job to always be by your side and babysit you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You should be."

"No that was a question, you dick. What do you mean my babysitter. I'm not a child, I'm a grown woman."

"Sí, Are you? You don't even have your own frame of thinking. You don't have your own opinions. You need your fucking mommy and daddy to hold your hand. You literally are easily persuaded and manipulated. You don't even have your own fucking voice, Iris. "

"A grown woman you say? No, you're a child and I've become your fucking babysitter. All you had to do was do nothing." Luca growled slamming his hand into the wall as if it were made of the softest sponge.

"You want to hear my own voice you prick. I hate you. I hate your house. I hate your face. You ruined my life. You took my life."

"Then leave Iris. Leave me! What's holding you back?"

I don't respond. He doesn't deserve my answer.

He chuckled. It was cruel and humorless. "What will mommy and daddy think, right? What will your parents' neighbors think?"

My silence seems to give him his answer.

"I won't be your goddamn babysitter anymore. Fuck, this, Iris. From now on get your own fucking sippy cup."

He began to stalk away, rage radiating from his frame but my voice, clear and crisp, free from slur echoes of the walls of the bathroom and interrupts his exit. It's the one question I've been hoping to find out since I first moved in here. Since the day he slipped that ring onto my finger.

"Why don't you leave?"

And he gave me my answer.

"If I could I would, Miss perfezione." He replied low over his shoulder and then with that he leaves me soaking wet in the bath, alone.