Chapter 0253

I head down for dinner just before six o’clock, having spent the majority of my day laying in my bed, staring at the ceiling. But

unlike the last time I did that, this day’s staring was fueled by melancholy, not rage, which is...way worse. Because while anger

makes me seek solutions and want to tear the world to pieces, being sad and worried just feels...hopeless.

I'm still sighing as I push open the door to the kitchen, and it only gets worse when I realize that my cozy sweater and jeans were

apparently not the correct attire for the evening. Natalia sweeps towards the patio carrying a basket of bread and wearing a

flowing floral dress with not a speck of pasta sauce on it, despite cooking all afternoon. She sees me and immediately smirks,

running her eyes over me like the unkempt ragamuffin that I probably seem to her.

I just take a deep breath and move immediately to the big fridge in the galley kitchen that I know holds the wine. As I get there, I

see that Daniel has beaten me to it, closing the door and smiling at me when he sees me. “Hey,” he says, holding up the chilled

bottle of white wine in his hand. “You want a glass?”

“Can you pour me two?” I ask, quirking my head to the side and blinking at him innocently.

Daniel laughs at me and just shrugs, taking two wine glasses down from the rack and pouring one much fuller than the other.

“Why so blue, Fay?” he asks, bumping his shoulder against mine. “You okay?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh, looking up at him and opening my mouth to tell him what Ivan said about the threat to his family, but before

I can begin Natalia is back, her eyes instantly on the wine glass in my hand.

“Fay,” she says, clicking her tongue at me as she bends down to open the oven. “Don’t you know that those glasses are only

meant to be filled to the widest point? You will ruin the flavor.”

“I poured it, Natalia,” Daniel says, leaning back against the counter and giving her a friendly smile. But I just shrug and drain the

glass of half of its contents, until the wine indeed only reaches the widest point in the glass.

“There,” I say, giving her a wide and false smile. “Better?”

Natalia laughs a little at my joke but, as she moves past Daniel and I with a hot dish of lasagna she whispers a new dig. “There is

nothing worse than a drunk woman, Fay,” she informs me, giving me a sad little look. “You should watch your drinking. We worry

for you.”

And then she’s gone and I bare my teeth and snap at the air after her, making Daniel laugh.

“Damn,” he says, shaking his head after her. “She is going in for you tonight.”

“Is a drunk woman worse than a murderess of obnoxious Italians?” I murmur, narrowing my eyes to a glower. “Let's find out.” And

then I drain my glass. Daniel just obligingly gives me a refill as Kent comes around the corner, peering into the kitchen.

He frowns at us as I wipe my mouth with my sleeve and Daniel pours wine freely into my glass.

“Do I want to know?” Kent asks, looking between us.

“Nope,” Daniel says, giving him a bright grin.

Kent just takes a deep breath, raising his eyebrows, and walks towards the patio.

“Come on,” Daniel says, wrapping a supportive arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go eat. You need to soak up that wine.”

“No,” I murmur, stubborn and not

willing to give up my melanc aly jyst

yet. “Li uid dinner far aytonight

TeAnes I am, the less time I have

to spend conscious with her.” Please

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.

Daniel just grins and I wrap my arm around his waist, pleased to have my best friend by my side in these trying times.

When I step outside to the patio,

though, any start to a good mood

that Daniel raised in me begi

wiped aw yspyrire Sight OF Natalia

pouch bite to Kent's side. I scowl

a little when I see her laughing up

into his face, raising a hand to tuck

his hair behind his ear like she did

last night at that horrible dinner.

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But I stop dead in my tracks when I see Kent smiling down at Natalia in response, his hand on the small of her back, tucking her

body in close next to his.

Daniel comes quickly back to my side

when he realizes that I’ve stopped

moving, clutching my s ulderyidre

ti tlvand eulmng rer him this

time. “Keep moving, Fay,” he

murmurs to me, his voice serious

and low enough so that only I can

hear. “Your my fiancé tonight,

remember?” Please read the original

content at .