Bound in ashes

The Ball

Damien

I looked over the balcony, which stretched over the greenery surrounding the private road that curved out of sight, the wind moving the ancient trees like whispers in the dark.

I had already made my decision. I wasn't going to the ball.

The envelope lay open on my desk alongside the flower bouquet, which consisted of the red, white and black roses and the gold crest that sealed the envelope, catching the dim light of the room.

The ball would be no different from the others, all glitter and forced laughter ringing through the halls.

But her.

My breath hitched as images of her flashed through my mind.

I wondered if she would be there, if she'd recognize me if she had seen me.

I sat there drowning in my thoughts till the knock on the door cut through my thoughts, not a knock.

A pounding that made me snap out of my thoughts.

The only person who had the balls to pound on my door in the whole of the mansion.

"You're still breathing, so open the door,” the person yelled.

I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

"I'm not going," I said loudly enough.

"That's funny because your letter says otherwise."

My best friend replied from the other side, pounding on the door continuously.

I opened the door to see him grinning.

He walked in like he owned the place, his eyes scanning my home office before landing on the unopened whiskey.

“You sent a letter,” he said.

“Congratulations, you coward,” he said.

I scoffed, “I've made my decision.”

No, he clicked his tongue. “You made an excuse.”

“No, I didn't, I'm busy with work,” I said, trying to shoo him away.

He got closer, lowering his voice.

“You don’t get to disappear only because she’ll be there.”

I turned away. “I’m uninterested in reopening old wounds.”

“No,” he said firmly, “you're just afraid they never closed.”

There was a long silence that stretched between us.

Then he smiled. “Besides, imagine their faces when you walk in.”

“Fifteen minutes,” I said. “If she’s not there, I leave.”

Viktor grinned widely. “Deal.”

Fifteen minutes later, the city lights blurred beneath us as the entourage cut through traffic.

The ballroom glimmered with laughter drifting across the room. Crystal chandeliers dripped from every corner, the orchestra playing in the background.

Conversations overlapped in practiced laughter.

The guards made their way, clearing the guests from the hallway, leading me to a dark corner reserved for me. The black roses were placed on the table, they shimmered.

I sat down with a sigh, my whole self focused on the door as it ushered in more guests. My eyes were darting at the door at every ring of the doorbell, searching for her.

“You're that desperate,” Viktor snickered beside me.

“You're not doing a very good job at being discreet," he said.

Before I could reply to him, a familiar voice rang through the air.

"Damien," they called out.

Moreno Reyes. Of course

He stood confidently, putting on a burgundy suit, his cheeky grin sickening me.

Didn't think you'd show up, he said. I heard misery makes people…unpredictable.

I smiled easily, raising my eyes to meet his face which I so badly wanted to hit.

His smile came easily, not reaching his eyes.

He turned away.

Alright then

The door dinged, and his eyes flickered past mine towards the figure that sauntered past the door. His interest piqued.

I followed his eyes, and a figure in a red dress strolled in her eyes, sweeping the room, her innocence evident in her eyes.

I gulped champagne I didn't remember picking up. The glass was cold against my palm.

"Enjoy the night, Mr. Reyes."

Oh, I will, he said, his voice triumphant. Everyone seemed to be enjoying her.

She stood near the bar, men draped around her like moths against a wildfire which they didn't understand could burn. Her gestures are measured and accurate.

Something twisted in my chest.

"Obsessed much?" Viktor snickered.

"I'm not obsessed," I retorted.

I clenched my jaw as she laughed at something one of the men said, and when a man's hand lingered for too long, my glass slipped out of my fingers, and it shattered to the ground.

It made the whole room grow silent, and everyone turned in the direction of the commotion.

Across the room, her eyes lifted and she found mine.

Surprise flickered in her face before I sensed it, but it was quickly masked, but not before I sensed it. The music faded

She looked away at first. She began to sway as she stood and then left the ballroom in a hurry.

I followed, and I felt a grip on my arms.

Viktor looked at me, convincing me with his eyes not to go, and I flung my arms around his

Outside, the night was cold.

She searched the lot, her heels clicking against the cobblestone, confusion flickering across her face as she fumbled for keys.

A man lingered nearby, watching. When he reached for her, it happened fast.

The gun was in my hand already when a sound split the air, and his body dropped out of my vision

Aria gasped, blood splashed on her, and she froze, shock written all over her face.

I turned towards her, she recoiled the moment our eyes met, she braced herself as if I was a threat.

Her reaction hit me harder than a gunshot.

I moved towards her and my instincts screamed at me to pull her towards me, but I remembered who I was supposed to be to her.

No one

But leaving her there alone, covered in blood, makes her a suspect in a murder.

I crossed the distance between us. She stepped back, tripping over her heels.

I wrapped my hands around her waist and caught her fall.

“No," she said, trying to break free from my grasp.

“That wasn't an offer," I said, picking her up and strolling to the car with the guards trailing behind us.