“At least I’m not the one who keeps saying confusing shit to you the whole time and touching you like I can’t get enough of you!”
“That’s because I can’t get enough!” My mouth falls shut again, and he groans quietly beside me.
“Next,” someone beside us says, and Leonard takes my hand, links it through his arm, and guides me onto the blue carpet.
His arm snakes around my waist as we stop for some photos, neither one of us smiling at the cameras. It’s who we are, and, frankly, my head is swimming with his words. If it weren’t so impossible for me to believe he could ever like me in the way he keeps suggesting, maybe it would be easy to swallow his words. Instead, my rational head is fighting with… with my heart, I think, and they’re not agreeing in the slightest at the moment.
Leonard merely pulls me along the carpet, letting the cameras snap more and more pictures. The warmth of his hand on my left hip is heaven and calming, which doesn’t help my head as it tries to deny the possibility of Leonardlikingme.
We keep walking until we’re off the carpet and on our way inside. It’s completely dark, the only light coming from the projectors as they display Claude Monet’s art. One wall shows hisImpression, Sunsetpainting, another hisLithograph of Landscape: the Parc Monceau. More of his art is everywhere combined with a slow, soothing melody as the images melt into one another, change into something else completely, only to revert back to the first image. People are speaking quietly, and I take in everything with awe filling my chest. This is absolutely beautiful. It’s what I envision my gallery to look like, not the aggressive show and music combination I had to watch every day at my old job.
“Here,” Leonard says as he hands me a glass of champagne I take greedily. I take several sips, easing the dull ache inside my head from overthinking his words.
“Luna did a wonderful job. This is beautiful,” I mumble to myself, but when I catch Leonard’s gaze stuck on me as he agrees, I feel heat rush into my cheeks.
I let my eyes travel around the room, trying to study everyone’s elegant outfits and masks when Luna, a stunning dark-skinned woman with braided hair, a green dress, and a silver mask greets Leonard. Next to her is a tall, muscular man with tanned skin, dressed in a velvet green suit to match Luna. His blue eyes are bright under his black mask, and his smile is specifically directed at me.
“Pleasure to meet you,” the man says with a thick Italian accent and offers me his hand.
“Sei italiano?” I ask, and his face lights up even more.
I’m not quite sure what happens after, but we start talking, and we don’t stop for an hour. Turns out, Dino and I have a lot in common, except that he’s a billionaire and I’m far from it. He likes art because it captures a unique side of beauty that can’t be found anywhere else. He loves immersive shows because it brings that very art to life, just like me. It’s been a long time since I got to speak as much Italian as I’m able to with him, and it makes me genuinely content.
Dino shares that he invested in Luna’s art gallery when she was starting out a few years ago, so I tell him about my dream. He listens closely, seeming to enjoy our conversation as much as I am. We end up standing at one of the high tables in the corner of the room while Leonard speaks to Luna. Our gazes meet eventually, but I can tell he’s irritated with me. I don’t think it’s because I’m speaking to Dino, but I do think it’s because I’m doing so without him by my side. I don’t mean to upset him, but, at the same time, I also glare at him for being such an asshole and confusing my head.
“Would you like for him to join us?” Dino asks after a while of Leonard and me continuing our staring contest.
“What?” I say so stunned, I turn my head to him. He gives me a disappointed smile.
“Leonard’s your boyfriend, no?” he replies, and I can’t help myself. Maybe it’s the champagne or the ridiculous words that just fell off his lips, but I let out a small snort turning into a fit of laughter.
“He most certainly is not,” I reply in Italian, causing Dino’s handsome features to brighten up again.
“Then you might be interested in what I’ve been meaning to do since you walked into the room,” he says and steps toward me, his hand hovering over my arm as he waits for permission to touch me. I cock a challenging eyebrow at him as I step closer too, fighting my heart as it tries to force me backward.
“And what might that be?” I ask, but he leans down, bringing his lips closer to mine.
“Kiss you,” he says, and I step on my tiptoes, closing the distance without thinking.
This is wrong. I know it is. Leonard’s gaze is burning my skin, but I had to try something to get him out of my head. Unfortunately, the kiss, as amazing as it is, only makes me feel guilty. I step away five seconds after I kissed Dino, bringing my fingers to my lips in an attempt to keep myself from screaming at the top of my lungs because of my frustration. I have no reason to feel guilty. Leonard has pushed me away more times than I can keep count. He insinuates that he has feelings for me, but someone who does wouldn’t keep pulling away every single time I’m under his control. I’m getting tired of his hot and cold with me, and I have every right to fuck another person if that is what I wanted. Except it’s not. I don’t want anyone else’s hands on me, and it’s driving me fucking wild.
“Chiara?” Leonard’s voice fills my ears, and I realize I’ve been standing in the same spot, unresponsive to Dino’s words, for several minutes. “What happened, sweetheart?” he asks, his hands moving to my arms to grab my attention. I look up at him, tears in my eyes. I have no idea where they came from, but I fight them back. Not quickly enough for Leonard to miss them. “The fuck did you do to her?” he barks at Dino, who takes a step back with his hands raised in the air.
“Nothing,” he assures the angry man who is still holding onto me. A groan escapes Leonard’s throat.
“What did he do? Tell me, baby, please,” he begs, but I rip my arms free of his grasp and run outside and down the sidewalk into an alley where I rip my mask off and take a deep breath.
I can’t kiss other people anymore? What the fuck kind of punishment is that? And what am I being punished for?
“Chiara de Luca, you can’t run away like that. You had me worried sick,” Leonard says when he reaches me, standing right in front of me with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Singapore has one of the warmest climates I’ve ever been in, but Leonard doesn’t seem bothered by the heat. Me, on the other hand, I’m sweating profusely now.
“Stop worrying about me. Stop pretending you care. Just stop it, Leonard. I can’t—I can’t deal with it anymore. You’re fucking with my head on purpose, and I’m done with it. So, please, stop,” I say, but as soon as I’m done with my rant, I sneeze. My head starts to pound right after.
“Gesundheit,” Leonard says, disregarding my words. It’s my turn to groan then.
“Can we just go back to the hotel?” I ask after another sneeze and another annoyingGesundheitfrom him.
“Chiara—” he starts, but I cut him off.
