7| Invitation

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Invitation

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Chapter 7: Invitation (Delilah's POV)

I walked into the house and just like last night, they were arguing about me again. It's been happening every few weeks recently, but now it's starting to happen every day.

"I'm tired of it, Felix! She's not my daughter, nor is she yours!"

"She's my niece!"

"You're her uncle, not her father! She's old enough to go out on her own, Felix. When you brought her home, you promised me. You promised me that it was just until she turned eighteen, just until she became an adult, and she's no child now!"

"Then what do you want me to do? Just kick her out and leave her to be on her own?"

"She has friends, doesn't she? She can stay with one of them until she finds somewhere to live. Anywhere but here."

"Are you out of your bloody mind, Rosy? I'm her only family left, how can you expect me to do that to her?"

I sighed, walking to the kitchen, stopping at the small, round dining table which was right between the two and I dropped all the mail on it from today, since neither of them bothered to empty the mailbox and even check it. "Don't mind me," I sighed, filtering through the mail and taking what was for me.

"Look at her attitude, Felix!"

I closed my eyes, clenching my jaw.

"I will not tolerate her in this house any longer!"

"This isn't your house, Rosy! It's mine!" Uncle Felix shouted.

"Shall I leave it then?!" She scoffed, staring at him in disbelief.

"Please stop fighting," I mumbled.

"It's all your bloody fault, Delilah," she scolded.

"Is it?" I threw the mail onto the table. "Which part of it, Aunt Rosy? The part where my parents died in a fire? The part where Uncle Felix brought me here? The part where not a single goddamn place offers a salary decent enough? I'm trying! I'm trying to save up all the money I can so I can leave your house, can't you just be patient with me? Please?" I ran a hand through my hair. "I try to use as little money of yours as possible. I don't make you cook for me, I buy my own meals. I pay for my own clothes, my own things."

"You didn't for the past thirteen years, Delilah," she bit back.

I stared at the table, gathering all my mail again. "Maybe I should just stay at Willow's tonight." I turned to leave.

"You asked which part of it was your fault."

I stopped at her words, not turning to face her.

"I'll tell you," she said bitterly.

"Rosy," Uncle Felix warned.

"The part where you didn't die in that fire with your parents."

I spun around, staring at her, trying not to show any emotion. Any at all. "Yeah, well here I am. In the flesh, very much alive. So, fuck you too."

"What did you just say to me?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes and heading back out. I slammed the front door shut behind me and sat on the front porch, throwing my bag onto the grass in our small front yard. I put my mail on the wooden floor beside me and covered my face with my palms, screaming into them. I screamed and I kept screaming until I was sobbing. I hugged my knees, putting my head down.

It's not the first time she's said that to me. That I should have died in that fire instead or I should have died with them. But that isn't my fucking fault either.

I stopped crying and sniffled when I heard the sound of a car slowing down to a halt. I sniffled again, groaning as my nose started running while lifting my head up. I saw a red vintage Cadillac slowing down as I stood up and grabbed my purse before sitting back down on the porch, looking through my purse for a handkerchief or a pack of tissues. I sniffled more, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand, groaning in frustration when I couldn't come up with anything.

"Here."

I froze, looking up and seeing a white black handkerchief being held out to me. I looked beyond the extended hand and saw Prince Spencer.

"Take it," he encouraged.

I took it hesitantly, mumbling, "Thank you." He stared at me while I wiped my cheeks. "Don't stare at me," I barked out.

He sighed and turned around, keeping his back to me while I wiped my nose. This handkerchief is mine now, I am way beyond embarrassed to return it, even after giving it a good wash. He turned back around, squatting down to my level. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He sighed, tilting his head to one side as if trying to decode a puzzle.

"That's a horrible question to ask someone who's been crying," I retorted, resting my arms on my knees.

"Were you kicked out?"

"I kicked myself out."

"And why on earth would you do that?"

"Because they want me out."

"Where will you go?"

"To my friend's house," I answered.

He paused for a moment, just watching me.

I stared right back, narrowing my eyes. "Are you following me?"

He scoffed, "Why the hell would I follow you?"

I shrugged. "You showed up at Mirage twice and now you're at my house."

"It's not your house," he corrected.

I shot him a glare grabbing my purse and mail. "Let me get away from it then," I spat out.

He let out a frustrated breath, shaking my head. "That's not what I meant. You shouldn't be out on your own, just tolerate them for another night and go back inside, it's the safest thing to..." he trailed off, staring at the stack of mail that I had beside me.

I followed his gaze, looking at a cream-colored envelope that had my name written on it in calligraphy.

"Where did you get that?" he questioned.

"It was in the mail." I looked back at him. "Why?"

He grabbed it, flipping it over and looking at the seal. He sighed. He sighs a lot. He flipped it over, showing me the seal.

I blinked in surprise. "Oh. It's from you."

"You could say that," he mumbled, ripping it open.

"Hey, that's my—"

"Dear, Delilah Celeste, I invite you to a ball hosted at my very own castle, located east of Everton, uphill. This is a personal invitation calling you to join me at my ball in the announcement of the ending to my bachelor days- this is ridiculous," he scoffed before continuing, "please do me the honor of attending. Don't forget to bring your invitation with you. Love, Spencer Romano."

I frowned, "It's from you, why are you calling it ridiculous?"

"It isn't from me. It's from my father. He sent these out on my behalf so I could find a bloody wife." He dropped the invitation with the rest of my letters. "Don't bother coming unless you'd be interested in marrying me. I'm sure your parents got the same letter, telling them to bring you along."

"They're not my parents," I informed him. "They're my uncle and aunt."

He stared at me, taking in a quick breath. "Oh."

I nodded. "I won't come then," I cleared my throat, gathering my mail and slipping it into my bag. "You should go before people spot you," I suggested.

He stood up while I did the same and we both stood in silence. "You won't come to the ball?" He lifted a brow at me.

I opened my mouth to say no but stopped when my mind flashed back to the conversation I had with his father and brother. I then thought briefly about what I heard my aunt saying last night.

She could kill somebody for all I care.

"It's an invitation to a ball where you choose a wife."

"It's an invitation to a ball. You're more than welcome to come, more than welcome to not. It'll be my choice who I marry, who says it'll be you?"

"I'm sure it won't be me," I mumbled, mostly to myself. "But maybe I'll try my luck."

He stared at me doubtfully. "Suit yourself. You'll have a fun evening regardless. I may not like my guests, but I still treat them nicely."

"Was that your way of saying you don't like me? While you stand at my house comforting me?" I smiled fakely. I'll have to go to this ball. If I don't, Uncle Felix will probably ask me to, just for the sake of my aunt, to show her that at least I'm trying. So I might just have to go, and if I have to do that then there's only one way to play it safe. Make sure he doesn't choose me. That way, my uncle and aunt will believe that I'm trying and his brother and father will see that I was right and he won't indeed choose me. That also means I won't have to kill a man, so...

The only way this could go south is if he chooses me, which seems impossible judging by the disgusted look I'm getting.

"I'm not comforting you. I only came here to check the invitation."

"Oh, because you saw it while driving from a mile away, didn't you?" I taunted him further.

His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed. "Good luck walking."

"Hmm," I nodded. "Good luck finding a wife, Prince Spencer."

He rolled his eyes and turned around, walking back to his car and climbing in, continuing the drive.

I stared until his car was out of sight before turning back around to the front door. Screw Aunt Rosy. This isn't her house, it's Uncle Felix's and he says I can stay here for as long as I need. I walked back over, pushing the door open and kicking my shoes off. I walked right past the kitchen and went upstairs, entering my room, slamming my door shut loud enough for her to hear and find something else to complain about.

I huffed, dropping my bag on my dresser and walking to bed, crawling into it and under the blanket, not bothering to change or freshen up. I'm just so tired today. Everything can wait till tomorrow morning. The thoughts, the contemplation, the plan. All of it.

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Chapter 7

Careful spencer, your caring side is starting to showww

next chapter: choice

the next chapter will be the ball, btw