Chapter Text
A brisk, late-November breeze washed across the thrush of parked cars spanning throughout the lush lawn of the expansive villa settled in the middle of a perfectly manicured meadow. A full moon was just beginning to crest over the horizon, emblazing the faux parking lot in a wash of moonlight twinged within a haze of ember from the setting sun. Lost in a sea of expensive cars, crystalline blue hues glistened against the obscure light, glancing between a thicket of automobiles in an effort to capture the location of her own car and lock it into memory. A soft beep sounded out from the dark grey Volvo, the car doors of the SUV audibly locking in tandem with the gentle hum of an exhale. Emilia closed her eyes, her breath catching in her lungs as the brilliant blues of her irises hid behind her dark-painted eyelids.
It had been three months since she'd last visited the mayor's villa and laid eyes on the man, a heart wrenching tale of woe inscribed within her last visit. Ryan Blandford, the high ranking politician of their bustling city and thrice-over elected mayor, had ruled city council, and their relationship, with an iron fist. It was three months ago that Emilia had ended the four year relationship with a man she'd genuinely believed she'd spend the rest of her life with, two months since the mayoral-elect was sworn in as mayor for a fifth term, and a month and a half since the announcement of his engagement to the newly-pregnant Amanda Fishkill.
And now, standing in a haze of affluence, perfume, and egregious vehicles, Emilia Hawley stared down the exterior of her evening. A lump in her throat formed, anxiety churning her empty stomach as she tried to mentally prepare herself for the following hours that would require her to maintain a confident and exuberant facade. How many people would question her on her thoughts of Mayor Blandford's newly found love? How was Emilia supposed to answer when the newest floozy attached to her ex's arm was, in fact, her own best friend who'd traded a grieving friend in for the spotlight of a trophy wife?
Mark that, ex best friend.
The ground gave way to skinny silver heels as Emilia stepped forward, forcing the petite woman to carefully navigate the field towards the winding driveway and white-clad ushers. Another breeze drafted wisps of red hair out of her face, clearing Emilia's view completely as she lifted her chin and forced a smile across the lower half of her face, unsheathing perfectly straight, white teeth from behind burgundy-painted matte lips. The joy shown in the curve of her lips didn't quite reach her eyes, but dammit did Emilia try.
As she neared the driveway, an usher extended his hand to offer her a semblance of balance as she appeared to glide over the tumbling waves of grass towards the asphalt. She took his hand, offering him the same fake smile she'd practiced countless times. "Thank you," she muttered, finally feeling solid ground beneath her feet.
"Of course, miss Hawley. Right this way," the nameless usher lifted his arm towards the house that seemed the pulse with the cacophony of celebration within the walls, signaling for Emilia to follow the direction of his pointless motion. She nodded wordlessly at him as her throat constrained and twitched around the invisible lump stuck in her throat. The sound of heels clacked further on, dragging the tentative woman towards the wide wooden doors that had been left open precariously.
Another gust of wind nudged Emilia forward and towards the breezeway, wrestling against a subconscious that screamed loathsome demands to flee. I could really use a Xanax, Emilia thought to herself, choking back a chuckle and shaking her head in disappointment towards her own inner monologue.
The rhythmic clacking of Emilia’s heels echoed across the marble as she stepped across the threshold of the mansion, the shimmering silver wrapped around her feet shielding themselves beneath a sequined black dress that danced along the floor and enveloped her curvature in a tasteful manner. The fabric appeared to drape over her shoulders in a sweetheart cut with long sleeves that fluttered delicately against her pale flesh. The bodice of the dress clung to her frame like a second skin before flowing from her hips. A high-slit was carved into the fabric, offering a glimpse of toned flesh whenever shifted just right. It was Emilia’s favorite dress, albeit one she had never worn before.
“You look like a try-hard goth princess failing to make it in the corporate world. That’s not the Hawley queen I know who commands a room, that’s some desperate floozy who will never fit in. Take it off and put the pink one back on before I hurl.”
Amanda’s comments upon seeing Emilia try on the dress echoed against Emilia’s skull like a bad song on repeat. She took in a breath, holding it in her lungs as she gazed across the formal herd of attendees clamoring throughout the entryway-turned-reception hall. Uplighting cast brilliant shadows of dim purples and reds throughout the room, highlighting the near-porcelain complexion of the redhead and causing the light splattering of brown freckles across her flesh to stand out in contrast. The dark makeup embellishing her eyes matched the matte burgundy of her lips, quivering from the forced smile that parted them. The same matte red was delicately painted across her manicured fingernails that were now visible as she reached up to brush back a spare wisp of hair from her face.
You can do this, Ems. One foot in front of the other. Just keep on smiling and get through the night.
Approaching the sweeping table centered in the entryway, Emilia offered a polite smile at one of the workers who stood behind it. The woman behind the registration desk flipped through a few pieces of loose paper before dragging a highlighter across a cell that displayed Emilia's name. "Ah, miss Hawley, Mayor Blandford will be tickled that you were able to make it." She handed Emilia a program as she spoke. "As always, we're honored to have you in attendance this evening and greatly appreciate your contribution and support." There was a beat of hesitation in the woman before she continued, a cautious hand reaching across the table to grasp Emilia's. "And we've missed you here. Truly." With that, the woman was craning her neck to view the next couple in line, waving them over as she quickly tried to cover up the fleeting moment of heartfelt emotion as if it had embarrassed her.
Emilia provided the woman with a gentle smile, her lips parting delicately as their trembling ceased briefly. "Thank you, Valerie." Stepping to the side, Emilia glanced down at the program, her manicured nails sliding between the pages before flipping it open. Her deep blue eyes scanned the agenda for the evening as her distracted gait brought her towards the lavish threshold of the banquet and the promise of an evening filled with fine dining, top shelf liquor, pedantic conversation, and dancing, all of which would ultimately culminate in lining Ryan's greedy pockets with even more funds that were intended to promote the mayor's promise of change.
Gods, how did so many people fall for his countless lies? The same way you did... Emilia's thoughts were quickly silenced as the brown gaze fuming from a slender faux-blonde woman mere feet from her caught her attention. Trepidation rose in Emilia's throat, threatening to bubble over into rancid nausea that burned her sinuses. Or was that the overwhelming stench of expensive perfume and cologne that practically billowed in the air with the promise of an imposing migraine? It was as if the stronger the scent a person wore, the more money they had. It was an attribute that truly irked the young woman, and one of the few things she didn't engage with. Her own perfume was light enough to only be breathed in when in the embrace of a hug, a sweet yet woody vanilla complemented by palo santo and sage that was reminiscent of tobacco highlighted with sensuality and elegance.
Emilia cleared her throat as the doll-like blonde approached her, forcing her to widen the joyous facade that spread across her lips. "Amanda," the melodious tone escaping Emilia’s throat somehow hid the loathing boiling beneath her tongue.
"Ems, I'm so happy you made it," Amanda said with a fake smile, all teeth shining beneath the dazzling lights. She wrapped her arms around Emilia, pulling her in for a hug as they both let out gentle laughs, Emilia's laced with discomfort. "I didn't think you'd show, considering all that went down." Her judgmental eyes spanned across the petite woman before her, her lips pursing as her gaze landed on the small curve of Emilia's stomach. "Oh gosh, don't you look wonderful." A snarling grin predicated Amanda's intent as she reached down to cradle her palms against her flat stomach. "I can't believe in only a few months I'm going to be as big as you! I mean, despite being so careful about how much I eat, unlike some of us."
Emilia's eyes narrowed despite the smile still plastered on her face. Her head cocked as she let out a chuckle. "Oh, honey, you'll be even bigger! And to think that you barely knew Ryan until only a few months ago." If her prior best friend could make jabs against Emilia's insecurities, she could surely handle them as well. According to the tears that flashed across Amanda’s eyes before being blinked away, Amanda was far better at spitting venom than taking it. Another discomforted and fake chuckle left her as she pulled Emilia in for another hug.
"Oh, Emilia. It's Mayor Blandford to you now," she whispered into Emilia's ear, her eyes flicking upwards to catch the glance of onlookers who watched her like a hawk. "But don't worry, he's still Ryan to me." Emilia could have sworn Amanda's breath embraced her ear like the tongue of a snake. Her nose crinkled as her body grew tense, but she was quick to let it pass as Amanda broke off from their hug. "So good to see you, Ems! Have fun! Don’t forget to peruse the silent auction. I'll see you on the dance floor if you’re able to convince someone to join you." With a wink, Amanda sauntered off in the opposite way, losing herself in the frenzy of the crowd as Emilia chuckled and smiled, choking down the abhorrence that poisoned her chest.
"Fucking bitch," she muttered under her breath, quickly excusing herself from the entryway and seeking out the nearest bar. So many familiar faces passed her by, some stopping her to offer their condolences from the ruins of her romance with the mayor. If they only knew... Polite small talk made her escape to the bar harrowing but within a few minutes she finally placed her palms against the solid wood bar top with a relieved exhale.
"Tequila ginger, please," a slip of a five dollar bill into the glass tip jar caught the attention of the bartender who smiled while inquiring on her brand preference. When Emilia gave him free reign, he nodded with a smirk and turned his back to her, fingering through the bottles of liquor. Her eyes roamed the backside of the bartender lazily before scanning the bottles that lined the back of the bar. Just as the bartender wrapped his fingers around the thick neck of a tequila bottle she was unfamiliar with, the air grew heavy with the presence of a new body shimmying their way beside her and settling in atop the plush barstool despite a scattering of empty seats along the bar.
Emilia’s teeth clenched, her jaw ticking in agitation at the invasion of her personal space. She knew she had to be on her best behavior this evening, but something about the person beside her had already irritated her before she turned to recognize the individual. Perhaps it was the wafting scent of smoke that was reminiscent of a cigar that charged the air and sent a chill down her spine. A few more seconds and you can simmer that frustration with tequila. Chill, Em. You got this…
Emilia let out another sigh before turning her head to see who had planted themselves beside her. "Mikael Aho," she started, her faux smile still present against her lips. "Fancy seeing you here." She leaned towards him, embracing him with a single-armed hug despite her distaste for the man. Always so polite in appearances, it was simply what they had been raised to be. "Tell me," she began, reaching out to the freshly placed crystal glass containing her drink and plucking the lime wedge from the rim between her pointer finger and thumb, her gaze lazily examining the citrus fruit, "do you hate these things as much as I do?"
While the sounds of the gala and its attendees were muffled through the thick walls of Blandford’s home parlor, the very air around him had changed. It felt charged, heavier, even through the thick clouds of smoke that filled the room. Expectations rode on the wind, rules and guidelines that must be followed, lest he make a social faux pas. But, he would follow them, as he always did. It was nearly impossible to get to the place in life that he had without following those rules.
“I suppose it’s time to grace Blandford’s guests with our presence,” a low rumble came from Mikael’s chest as he addressed the men he’d been keeping company with for the past few hours. He’d arrived earlier than the invite had intended for those excused from the dirtier side of society; he’d been promised a private game of poker married to a presentation of this coming year’s plan of underground corruption. Joining him in the clouded room was a very select group of individuals who were dangerous enough on their own but capable of horrifying, widespread malfeasance when banded together by corrupted power.
Mikael let out an irritated exhale, his breath carrying with it the wispy fog of a cigar that had been snuffed only a few seconds prior before he pushed himself from the oversized leather chair. Large, weathered hands gripped at his suit jacket, a jet black piece to match the jet black slacks he'd donned, a charcoal button down beneath. With a black tie to top it all off, he would have looked more at home at a funeral. Yet, in a sense, death followed him everywhere he went. Death that had yet to strike by his own two hands, sure, but death all the same. Not the type of death that drew ragged, slow breaths, or even the type of death to strike suddenly, turning vibrant colors into a never ending expanse of darkness. The death that followed Mikael Aho was reserved for one person, and one person alone. And as he stepped down the hallway and through an archway leading to the main hall where the wealthy gathered and honesty seemed to fade into obscurity, his gaze settled on the very person his death was reserved for.
Emilia Lumi Hawley.
He murmured to himself, the very sound of her name sending a ripple of something primal though his being. Meaty fingers curled into Mikael’s palms, his fists straining white as he narrowed his darkening gaze. To the untrained eye, it was easy to assume that she was simply killing time or making use of the supplied amenities, but Mikael saw her solitude for what it truly was - his little snow kitten filling her time with pedantic nonsense as she waited for her purpose to show itself. She was waiting so patiently, keeping to herself and out of the spotlight. She was waiting for him.
Mikael was quick to cross the floor, akin to a specter in the way he moved, but with a presence so commanding, so imposing, those who were in his way moved without a second thought. When he slid into the seat next to her, the rustle of his suit was almost imperceptible, almost silent against the quiet clink of her glass as it was placed down upon the marble bar top. For as imposing, as large, as dominant a man as he was, he moved in silence when necessary.
Remaining stoic upon the bar seat, Mikael enabled Emilia’s friendly demeanor and even returned it as she leaned in to awkwardly embrace him with a single arm. He let out a quiet chuckle beneath his breath, his own arm snaking around her for the briefest moment as his fingertips curled against the soft hairs on the back of Emilia’s neck. She appeared eager to withdraw from him, her hips shifting beneath her as she readjusted her position. Mikael’s gaze slipped from her drink, to those painted lips of hers, to the pools of crystalline water barely contained behind dark, thickened lashes. He could practically feel his pupils dilate as their gazes met.
"Hate is a," he began, tapping his curled fingers against the bar once, earning the bartender's attention, "very strong word, Emilia. But it's apt." A quiet laugh died in his throat, killed by the pearly whites that sank into his tongue. "Truthfully, I'd say I'm shocked to even see you here." He turned his focus to the bartender and nodded before continuing. "But we both know that would be a lie."
The bartender was quick to put Mikael’s drink down, a deep amber that swirled against a solitary sphere of ice dampening the subtle similar scent that rolled off Mikael himself. He took a slow sip, inhaling gently as he did so, before he set his glass back down and turned to face Emilia once more.
"Do tell, Emilia," The way her name rolled off his tongue, stained with scotch burn, it almost felt like an invitation in and of itself. "We both knew you'd find yourself here, but I'm as to why." He leaned in conspiratorially, a large, strong, weathered hand finding her waist, as if to steady the both of them. "What are you aiming to do now that you're here? You've gone and brought yourself here to," he paused, thumb slowly, almost gently caressing the bottom of her rib cage, "sit at a bar and drink? Surely not."
The large, calloused hand that now cradled the seductive curve of Emilia's lower back felt far more invasive than it should have. Mikael’s touch caused goosebumps to rise upon Emilia's pale flesh, a haunting shudder running through her spine. There was something off about Mikael that Emilia could never quite put her finger on. He always seemed so calculated, a curious and brooding look always flickering in his eyes every time they landed upon Emilia, hinting at something far more sinister rattling around his mind.
Emilia sunk her teeth into her tongue, her nostrils flaring as his voice seemed to consume her despite the deafening babble that prattled on behind them. A sensation of deflation overcame the petite redhead, her insecurities cresting within her mind out of nowhere. The way Mikael eyed her was akin to a predator about to consume its prey. He was drinking her in, savoring her nuanced reactions that she clearly tried to hide. A slight crinkle of her nose, the way the edges of her eyes creased while her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pressed together in a thin line as she held her breath. How was she supposed to respond to his assumption? Her hips shifted against his touch while her eyes blazed into his and she reached back with a single hand, pressing her cool fingertips against his forearm to nudge his touch off of her. His statuesque demeanor didn't budge as she applied pressure against his arm, her fingertips turning his flesh white beneath her touch. Her other hand reached forward, fingers coiling around the cold glass filled with amber soda and clear liquor. Emilia's nostrils flared again as she sucked in a deep breath before bringing her tequila ginger to her lips and sipping it, her gaze never shifting from Mikael’s as they appeared locked in a battle of determination.
Emilia was drawing out the moment, soaking in the silence between them as the suffocating tension between the two cocooned them into a world all their own. Carefully placing the glass back down, her eyelashes fluttered as a sea of blue met his gaze once more. Emilia's lips pursed, her head cocking as if she was lost in contemplation for a fleeting moment.
"You'd be smart to consider how important it is to maintain appearances." She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wandering across the crowd. "You see Mikael, everyone here is salivating over the intention of capturing a whiff of the latest scandal." Emilia's eyes then locked in fixation at a man across the room, surrounded by humans that were more akin to slobbering hounds. He glanced back at her, seemingly frozen in place as a stout man who appeared to be talking to him grew flustered over his own desperation to regain the man’s attention. "Is my own turmoil really enough to feed these beasts? I mean, look at Ryan standing over there. He fits in just the same as I do in this crowd. People only care about what happened because it's the hottest gossip right now. If I didn't show up, he'd win." Emilia reached back towards the bar, grabbing for her drink once more as her eyes remained fixated on her past lover. "People would talk. If I didn't show up and play nice, their assumptions would swirl into a fog of false truths. By me showing up," Emilia raised her glass, nodding towards Ryan as she silently cheered the man from a distance, "I maintain control." She took a sip of her drink before turning her attention back towards Mikael.
"I'm here because I don't lose. These bottom dwellers don't need to hear about what goes on behind closed doors. They feel entitled to it. Of course, nobody is able to get everything they desire." Another sip of the burning liquor sweetened by ginger ran across Emilia's tongue. "You, of all people, should know what that's like, hmm?" The words that escaped her liquor-basted lips were reminiscent of the countless rejections she'd thrown towards the man, yet nudged towards the fact that Mikael had a certain appearance he’d maintained efficiently in front of the cameras. "I'm here for the same reason we all should be here," Emilia quickly rebutted her own statement, backpedaling against the seemingly unintended meaning behind her previous words. In mock showmanship, she raised her glass slightly. "To support two more years of positive change." Her tone was sardonic as she ended it with a brief chuckle, followed by another sip of her drink. "And you, mister Aho? What is the reasoning for your presence here this evening? We both know you've never been a fan of Blandford's political stances."
The maintenance of appearances was something that had grown to matter less and less to Mikael as time went on. While he'd never been one to truly care what people thought of him, there'd always been the belief somewhere in the back of his mind that when people talked, what they had to say mattered. And to a degree, there was truth to that. But the older he got, the more he realized that the number of people whose words held any true meaning was surprisingly small. The same way he glazed over tabloid headlines, he tuned out the dull chatter of those who were prone to spread gossip. Of course, gossip wasn't always gossip, but if the masses could be convinced that the truth was nothing more than a rumor, it only proved his point.
Mikael allowed his gaze to slip from the creature of his obsession to the man across the room who all but watched them as if they were in the process of setting one another on fire. With a subtle smirk that was quickly concealed, Mikael realized that might not be too far from the truth. That smirk that was so quickly concealed, however, was pulled to the surface once more as he found himself the victim of an unintentional but surprisingly well-placed jab. It was only then that his gaze flicked back to hers, as if he were silently daring her to carry on. When she called his own presence into question, he allowed himself a moment of contemplation. She was likely playing the same games he was, playing by the same rules that he did, playing toward the same end-goal, hoping for the same result, though she would never say it. She was far too prideful for such a thing. Far too strong.
"No." He answered firmly after several moments of silence. "You're right. I think his politics are," He paused once more, and narrowed his eyes, brow furrowing, which only served to deepen the lines across his forehead and further emphasize the jagged features of his face, "a lesser man than me would say they're designed for the foolish, and implemented for the privy." His tongue slipped across his bottom lip as he brought his glass to his mouth once more, allowing himself another sip of warmth. "But that's neither here nor there. I think you know all too well why I'm here." His voice lowered once more, taking on that same jagged edge that the rest of him embodied.
Perhaps it was foolish of him to do such a thing. Perhaps he was giving her too much freedom. Perhaps the right thing to do would have been to toss her over his shoulder or drag her out kicking and screaming right then and there. But like she said, she was there to win. And in a sense, he was too. It didn't matter if they were playing different games with different rules. All that mattered was the victory that he would find by the end of the night; whether it came willingly, or with anger. Something told him, however, that peace was as unlikely as Ryan letting her win.
"I want you to tell me, Emilia,” he murmured, leaning in once more. "Why do you think I'm here?" The corner of his mouth curled toward the ceiling, and the ghost of a chuckle whispered across the shell of her ear. "Do you think it has something to do with the daggers being stared at me by your impotent, pathetic excuse of a former boyfriend," his words faded to a whisper, and he leaned back, gaze fixed on the man across the room. His hand slowly slipped from her waist, fingers curling against the curve of her hip as they threatened to dip lower for a moment, only to fall as he settled into his seat. "Or do you think it's something else?"
Ryan was seething from across the room, his facial features contorted slightly as the struggle of containing the blaze of jealousy was beyond him. Richard Steinbeck, the homunculus who struggled to maintain the mayor's attention, finally stopped flapping his lips and followed Ryan's gaze over to Emilia and Mikael. Emilia was no longer watching the politician, now examining the facial structures of the towering man seated beside her. The hand pressed against the warmth of her body would feel the shudder ripple through her hips, shifting ever so slightly beneath the sequined fabric hugging her curves.
There was clearly a distrust and discomfort Emilia couldn't shield from her body even if it no longer flashed across her face. Mikael’s words parried her, but it was his tone that was glazed with something far more tactile. Even when he pulled away from her, still close enough for his scent to encumber her senses, the sensation of his warm breath encircling her ear still clung to her.
"Hmm," she started, the low hum vibrating across her throat before being quelled by yet another sip of her drink. This sip in particular emptied the recently filled glass. The bartender was quick to replace it before Emilia had placed it back down on the counter. "Thank you," she muttered, replacing the empty glass in her hand with the refreshed one. Another healthy sip coated her tongue before she returned her attention to Mikael once more.
"Why do you find yourself so inquisitive of my thoughts?" Emilia's head cocked slightly, an eyebrow hitched upwards. "Don't you find it a bit ironic that we're sitting here discussing the entitlement of everyone else here in this room, and yet you feel entitled to hear my thoughts on your intentions?" A soft chuckle left her reddened lips as her head shook from left to right, shaking in mock humor. "Well, mister Aho, my first guess would be to drown out the demands of your everyday life with an open bar of top shelf liquor, but we both know you hardly work since mommy and daddy still manage the money." The edges of her eyes crinkled, a soft smile slowly crawling up her cheeks as the joy of tearing down the wealthy man before her brought a tinge of enjoyment to the young woman. "So it must be that you're seeking out your next conquest, but, again, we both know you've probably seen the majority of women in this room naked. Why spend a fortune to attend the gala of a man you loathe to get your dick wet when you seem to pick up a new floozy every night?"
Emilia glanced to the side, her eyes once again falling upon Ryan who was now pushing through the crowd to approach the sparring couple. Her eyes returned to Mikael and she flashed him a smile. "I'd put my money on the same boring excuse I find myself using. Appearances." She leaned forward, placing her palm against his knee while her nails grazed across the fabric of his slacks.
She let out a polite laugh, her nails scraping against his kneecap as she leaned back in her chair before flinging her hair over her shoulder. Even with the overflowing display of red locks held up in a high ponytail, it was still long enough to crest over her shoulders and cover the delicate curve of her collarbone. "Oh, Mikael, you act so hallowed and haunted, yet couldn’t be easier to read than a child’s book," she taunted, her intention clear as day once Ryan stepped up to them and pressed a hand between Emilia's shoulder blades. She grabbed her drink, swallowing back a mouthful and a half before turning her head to look at Ryan.
"You look beautiful tonight, Em." His free hand roamed to the back of his neck, scratching it awkwardly as he stumbled through his words. "I'm surprised to see you, you haven't returned any of my messages. I didn't think you'd make it."
Emilia's fake smile returned to her lips as she glanced up at him before surveying the onlookers who watched the trio. "Of course I'd make it, mister Mayor." Her sharp tongue caused him to wince as she namelessly referred to him. Still, he let out a sigh and then nodded towards her drink.
"How many have you had tonight?"
"That's none of your business."
Another sigh left his dry throat before he glanced over at Mikael briefly. The look shared between the two men put Ryan's insecurities on full display, his jealousy barely contained the rage stowed behind his glare. He’d entrusted Mikael with entrance to his political control in exchange for some power of his own; his expectations of Mikael had been to take advantage of the evening’s networking opportunities and yet he sat here openly flirting with one of the few women who were deemed off-limits.
“Ems," Ryan started before turning his gaze back to her, "I'd like a chance to speak with you."
Still with the fake smile, Emilia shook her head before taking another sip. "Sorry, Mayor, but I don't think that here is the right time. You've so many other people to impress, why not enjoy the dog and pony show while you still can? You’ve always enjoyed playing the puppet master."
Ryan smirked, his hand reaching up to beckon for her own hand. "You're right, Em. I should enjoy this show. Come, dance with me."
Emilia left him in his awkward stance, glancing briefly over at Mikael as a glimmer danced across her eyes. There was a pain she was clearly trying to bury deep inside as she silently pleaded with a man she’d disliked to rescue her, and maintaining appearances was making it even more difficult for the young woman. Her smile fell from her lips, replaced by a tensed strain. If she rejected Ryan as he visually beckoned her towards the dance floor, it would give the onlookers what they were waiting for. It would rid her of all control.
So instead, she lifted her hand and placed it in his palm. "Of course, mayor Blandford." Before standing up, she grabbed the crystal glass of tequila ginger and upended it against her lips, thirstily drinking down every last drop before placing it back on the countertop. Emilia slid from her seat, giving one last look towards Mikael. It was a look of faltering confidence, her unsureness clear as day. "Please excuse me, mister Aho." The smile that lit up her face didn't reach her eyes as she excused herself from their conversation, her hips swaying side to side as Ryan led her towards the dance floor and placed his hand upon her lower back to guide her.
"People are watching, Em." Ryan snaked his hand from her lower back to her side, slowly caressing the curve of her waist before settling it on her hip. Emilia didn't respond, however she raised a hand to his chest and rested it there, her other hand lowering towards the arm he'd extended towards her as she gripped his bicep through his jacket. Their bodies began to sway together as Emilia's eyes locked focus on his neck, refusing to look up at him. Ryan leaned his head forward, his lips pressing against her forehead as his eyes closed and he breathed in the sweet smell of her hair. Emilia took a step back, but he followed her. To anyone else, it looked like they were simply dancing.
"I miss you," he mumbled against her forehead before pulling back slightly and looking down at her. Emilia still stared straight ahead. "You must miss me, too." Emilia remained tight-lipped, refusing to respond to him. "Emilia."
There was a coldness enveloping them despite the warmth from the crowd. Ryan's eyebrows hitched together.
"Talk to me."
Emilia froze, her chin lifting as she looked up at her former paramour. "No." His grip on her hip tightened and he pulled her into him, forcing her back into motion as they danced.
"Don't make a scene, Em." He twirled her before pulling her back into his arms as they rocked back and forth. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't still want to be with me. You know it. I know it."
Emilia's eyelashes fluttered as she glanced up, watching the crowd around them while unable to look directly at Ryan. Across the dancefloor, Emilia’s gaze locked on to a woman who glared back at her, anger streaking across her features as she folded her arms against her tensed chest. "Amanda is watching," she finally broke her silence.
"I don't care. It's you, Em, it's always been you. Come back to me."
"You're engaged. She's pregnant."
"She doesn't have to know."
Emilia pulled back again, both palms against his chest as she finally looked up at him with a look of disgust. He was quick to pull her back in, trying to cover up her reaction. "People are watching," he hissed between clenched teeth, returning them to their sway. "Remember all of the fun times we had together? Remember how good I made you feel?"
Emilia's nose crinkled as the memories crashed down on her like a ton of bricks.
Ryan lowered his head, his lips pressed against the delicate curve of her neck as he whispered into her. "I do. I'll never forget the feeling of your cunt twitching around my fingers.."
Emilia's teeth grinded together, her jaw tensing as she tried to pull back from him but failed against his grip. "Because you could never get me off any other way. You never even tried."
"Let me try again, baby. I can make you scream. You know how good I am. Let me make it up to you."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"You've always been so stubborn. Come on, Em. Give me at least one last night."
Emilia fell silent, taking in a deep breath as she tried to mentally disconnect from reality. She felt dizzy, yet the reality of knowing she wouldn't fall over made her feel even more distressed. Ryan's grip on her ensured she wasn't going anywhere. His head dipped lower as he pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder, humming softly in his exhale as if savoring her taste.
His whispers continued, his lips refusing to detach themselves from her soft flesh. "You know you miss this, Em. I can feel how your body shakes against mine. You want this." He pulled her impossibly close, forcing her to feel the warmth emanating from his trousers as he pressed his erection against her lower belly. "Amanda is chaperoning her parents this evening. You're going to stay tonight, and I'm going to remind you just how good you had it when we were together."
Emilia's head lifted solemnly, her gaze spanning out behind Ryan. Amanda had Emilia in her sights, her arms folded across her chest as she appeared visibly upset over her fiancé fawning over another woman. "You have a fiancé and an unborn child," she spoke matter-of-factly, her voice monotone.
"It kills you, doesn't it?" Ryan chuckled against her skin, lifting his head from her slightly and obscuring her vision with his shoulder for a moment. "That should have been you. It still can be."
"I don't want you."
"Shh. You don't mean that, Em. I can give you the life you deserve. You'll never have to work another day in your life."
"You still don't know me at all," she hissed through clenched teeth, trying to fight to bring back that stupid, fake smile. Too many people were watching their reunion, trying to grasp onto any sort of drama they could discern to feed their gossip-starved bellies. "I've worked too hard for what I have. Being a housewife and mother is not in the plans."
"Oh, Ems. You don't know what you want. I know you. I know your body. All it takes is a little taste for you to realize that you want this."
"That's exactly what you said when you tried to get me to open up and explore." Her tone mocked the words he'd used back in their relationship. "And yet, you never could respect my boundaries. You knew I would never settle for being a trophy wife, but you refused to accept that.”
"But you changed your mind about our baby."
Emilia winced back, hurt by the debilitating memory. "You forced me into an impossible situation. I had no other choice but to love her, Ryan. You had me followed to ensure I wouldn't..." Emilia's voice trailed off as tears welled into her eyes, vulnerability that was quickly blinked back.
"Give me another chance," Ryan cooed against her ear, breathing her in once again. "I can make you feel things wilder than you’ve ever imagined."