004
1620 Words
Chapter 4
Astrid's POV
As soon as I stepped out of my room the next afternoon after I slept in, my eyes widened. A group of stylists and make-up artists gathered around me, carrying numerous items I'd never seen.
“Good afternoon, ma’am! We’re here to prepare you for the party tonight,” one of them greeted in a professional manner. What party? I wanted to ask but chose to keep my mouth shut.
A few hours later, they stopped doing their work and left. My jaw dropped as I glanced at myself in the mirror, seeing a more stunning version of myself staring at me.
I descended the staircase, wondering to myself what compliment Damien would give me. As I reached the bottom, I saw Damien standing there, dressed to perfection in a black three-piece suit, his hair gelled back. Wow, how can a man look so yummy?
He glanced up at me, and instead of the compliment I'd hoped for, he just turned and walked to the car without a word.
"I'm opening a new hotel today, so it's the perfect opportunity to make our first public appearance. Now hurry up. We don’t have much time,” he called over his shoulder, already slipping into the backseat.
The car ride was silent, Damien focused on his phone while I stared out the window.
When we arrived at the venue, I gasped. The building was breathtaking, the kind I had only seen in movies or magazines. I think Fiona and Dad must have seen places like this on their vacations, which I was never allowed to attend due to my numerous training classes.
“Close your mouth!” Damien’s voice cut through my thoughts. He didn’t even look up from his phone. “Don’t tell me this is how you’re going to act in there.”
“You'll go inside," he commanded, already getting out of the car. “I have to meet someone, but I’ll be with you shortly.” With that, he walked off, his phone already to his ear.
I stood rooted to the spot as the car drove off. People were entering the venue, chatting and laughing, while I stood on the side. I felt like an outsider and I couldn't bring myself to go in alone.
“Mrs. Astrid Starkov?”
I turned to find a tall, black man standing behind me with a smile.
“Can I help you?” I asked, wondering how he knew my name.
“My name’s Luke Edison. I’m Mr. Starkov's personal assistant,” he said, extending his hand.
"Oh, you're Mr. Grumpy's personal assistant?"
"Yes, I am," Luke replied, chuckling. "And I like that name, Mr. Grumpy. It suits him."
"I know, right? Trust me, the guy hasn't smiled since I met him. I can't wait for him to smile."
Luke grinned. "You're right, ma'am. But I have to tell you... Mr. Starkov will not smile and will never be friendly with you. I’ve worked with him for seven years, and I’ve never caught him smiling."
My mouth nearly touched the floor. Seven years and no smile? What is that man made of, stone?
"Let's go in?" Luke extended his elbow and I placed my hand in it.
If I thought the outside of the venue was beautiful, the inside was heaven. Aside from the golden decorations, guests were dressed in their finest clothes and jewelry as if trying to prove themselves to each other.
Luke cleared his throat. "You have to go sit at the table for Mr. Starkov. It's down there," he said, pointing toward a table that looked like it belonged to the most important guest in the room.
My heart started racing. I can't go out there by myself. I’m not ready for this. "I have to sit there too?"
"Of course, ma'am. You're his wife, and this is your first public appearance. Let's go."
Realising I needed time to compose myself, I lied, "You go ahead, I have to go to the restroom.”
Luke nodded.”Alright, I'll be waiting for you."
I bolted toward the bathroom, nearly bumping into a waiter on the way. Once inside, I leaned against the wall and tried to calm myself. I didn't know why I was so scared.
Maybe it was the pressure of being the wife of a powerful man in a room full of other powerful people, or maybe it was the feeling of being unprepared for the public spotlight. Either way, I knew I had to pull myself together.
Taking a deep breath, I was about to head out when a voice from one of the bathroom stalls stopped me in my tracks.
It sounded like someone trying to whisper, but they weren’t doing a very good job.
"Ma'am, I’ve put it in... Yes, it would look like a chef’s accident from the kitchen. Of course, ma'am. Yes, I put in the right amount of castor bean into the food."
My blood ran cold. Castor bean? I froze, my eyes growing wide. Castor beans are poisonous. It should not be consumed. What food is she talking about? Could it be the food at the party? Oh my God. Someone is trying to kill the guests.
Without a second thought, I stormed out of the bathroom, rushing toward the party. It was in full swing, and I knew many would already be eating. God I hope that food hasn't been served.
I pushed through the crowd, ignoring the curious stares and hateful remarks thrown my way. There was no time to waste. When I got to the buffet table, I exhaled, happy that nobody was eating. But as I turned to find Damien, I noticed an old man filling his plate, unaware of what was in the food.
I slapped the plate out of his hand. The food scattered to the floor. The noise caused everyone to pause, the room falling into silence.
"Why would you do that?" the old man shouted, glaring at me.
"Sir, you can’t eat that. I’m sorry, but I think there’s something in the food."
"What? What do you mean by something in the food?"
"I don’t know, okay? But there's something in the food. It’s not safe. If you eat it, you’ll die."
His eyes widened, and he turned toward the nearest waitress. "What is she talking about?"
Before I could explain, a firm hand clasped around mine, turning me roughly. My head collided with a hard chest, and when I looked up, I froze. Damien’s eyes were trained on mine, his lips set in a thin line.
"What do you think you’re doing now?" he whispered.
"Look, I can explain, okay?"
"Ladies and gentlemen," Damien called out, commanding everyone's attention. “Nevermind about the interruption. Please, carry on with the party. I’ll be right back."
"No! Don’t eat that food! Please, just believe me," I pleaded while looking into his eyes.
Damien’s glare softened just for a moment before he snapped, "Fine. Have someone take the food away. No one eats it. Get someone to test it."
He grabbed my arm, dragging me out of the room. We made our way into one of the hotel’s private bedrooms. He shoved me against the wall, pressing his body into mine. His hands went up, landing on either side of my head as he looked at me.
"What the hell was that? Are you daft?" he roared, making me fist my dress tightly.
I clenched my fists. “Look, Grumpy, I—”
“Shut up!” he snapped.
Why is he being so rude? I was just trying to help. I took a deep breath, gathering the courage to speak up. “I don’t care how rude you want to be, but you need to understand that the food had something in it. I overheard someone in the bathroom. She was talking to someone on the phone, saying, "Ma'am, I’ve put the castor bean in the food. It’ll look like a chef’s accident.’”
“Dang it!” Damien moved back, and I let out a shaky breath. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression going colder as he paced the room.
I gulped and took a step towards him.. “You should calm down, it’s not—”
“Do you even realize who I am? I’m Damien Starkov. I have more enemies than you can count—people who would love nothing more than to see me destroyed. And now, you've gotten yourself involved."
My brows furrowed. “What? Wait, what are you talking about?”
“You should have come to me first! I would have known how to handle it. Now, whoever was targeting me knows their plan failed. And they know it’s because of you. You’ve put yourself under their radar. I hope you’re prepared for what comes next.”
My mouth ran dry. “So… I should have let people eat poisoned food? Just sat back and watched them die?”
"This world isn’t as simple as you think. You don’t just go jumping into situations like this without thinking about the consequences.”
“Maybe you’re used to thinking like that, but I wasn’t going to stand by and watch innocent people get hurt." I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Well, you just made yourself a target. Don’t expect me to save you if things go south. I don't care about you. You can easily be replaced. So think of how to deal with this mess you've created for yourself." He said darkly before storming out of the room.
I slumped against the wall, my heart racing. What the hell had I gotten into?
- Writer
