Chapter 4
729 Words
Clara’s P.O.V
At a party I hadn't planned to attend, spilling wine on someone felt disastrous until I saw him. Robins Tyla, the man whose reputation had secretly captivated me for years. Brilliant, solitary, with those rumored ink-blue eyes and a presence that commanded without effort. Up close, he was breathtaking, stirring a rush of heat I hadn't expected.
"Ooohh myyy God," I exclaimed, stammering as I rubbed his shirt futilely. "I am so sorry, I…"
He smirked, gently holding my wrist to stop me. Electricity shot through me at his touch; warm, firm, lingering.
"You are only making it worse. It's red wine."
"What?"
"Red wine leaves a permanent stain on white."
I chuckled, nerves easing into a smile. His eyes locked on mine, deep and mesmerizing.
"Funny."
"Interesting."
His hand stayed on my wrist; I didn't want him to let go. "It's funny that you knew that yet still decided to show up to a party wearing white. I mean who wears white to a party?"
Grinning, he leaned closer; my pulse thundered. "Well, pardon me; I couldn't predict that some green-eyed pretty lady would be clumsy enough to spill drinks on my shirt."
He took my hand, fingers intertwining. His touch ignited sparks, thoughts I tucked away blushing.
"Lol, I’m sorry.” Concern filled my eyes, but joy too; this felt fated.
"Though I didn't expect someone this beautiful to be so clumsy," he teased, thumb brushing my chin. His gaze on my lips made me flush deeper.
"I didn't expect Robins Tyla to be flirting with me."
He chuckled, rich and warm. I laughed, the sound pretty even to me.
"Surprising. She knows me."
"Is it? You are not exactly weird, Robins."
"Really, why would you think I’m weird?"
"You study a lot, the best medical student for years now. Your research is even my main reference to my ongoing project on terminal diseases."
Admiration flushed his face, the kind that looked mutual. He was brilliant, driven by loss, just like me.
"I have a lot to contribute, but we are at a party. Boring talks are canceled."
"Definitely. Parties are no place for academics." I replied him, my face flushed by his charming look.
"Exactly."
His laugh became my favorite sound.
"Come smoke with me." He asked.
"What? I don't smoke."
"Let's assume you don't drink either."
"Well, I do, but not excessively. Light drink here."
"Oh, please, I'm sure you can't even handle a glass." He challenged.
"Is that some kind of dare?"
He shrugged. Challenge accepted, I grabbed his wrist, pulling him to the bar. His skin against mine felt right.
"Let's see who can drink more."
"You really want to compete with a..." The words hung in his mouth.
"A man? Are you suggesting a woman can't compete with a man?" I asked challenging him, helping him to finish the sentence.
"Oh, please. I love women; I'm not against them in any way."
"Then let's compete in a game of ‘Never have I ever.’"
I poured drinks.
"Woah, Easy with that,” came the sharp caution in his voice, hands hovering and catching the bottle mid-pour.
"Scared already, Blue eyes?" I teased.
"You’re the one who is scared... Don’t worry."
"Whatever, I'll go first." I said filling up the last shot.
"Never have I ever been arrested."
He laughed, drinking intriguing hint of his hidden mafia edge.
"Never have I ever been to a sleepover." He teased; I drank.
Rounds flew, chemistry building, scoffing, laughs, stolen glances. Tipsy warmth spread, but unease too; I needed Chloe.
"I have to go. My friend is dropping me off."
"I can drop you off."
"Thank you, but I'd rather just go with her."
"Sure, then. Funny, I never got your name."
"It's Angela, Angela Graciano."
"Well, nice to meet you, Angela."
"Thanks for the night, Robins." I smiled, heart full.
As I left, a whisper in the air felt like promise: this magnetic connection, born amid mafia shadows, was just the beginning. The man I always dreamt and fantasized if; my childhood crush. I had finally had the time for what seemed like a date with him at the party. The Elites had finally convinced him, and chance made us meet only for my heart to never want to let go. While putting distance between us, every heartbeat since had whispered his name.
- Writer
