Complicity [h.s]

40

Aven Brooks

My father wants me to marry a man I've never met. Zayn warned me about this, but nothing could prepare me for how soon it's all happening. When my father is set on something, there's no changing his mind. It's what is best for the family, meaning the decision has already been made.

The Hamptons property is full tonight. Soft violins play, silver platters of hors d'oeuvres. The white gloves over my hands stop me from picking at my nail beds. My cream-white dress meets the floor, the beauty of the multi-million dollar necklace back on my neck. My hair is pinned up because my mother says my shoulders are appealing. It feels like I'm styled to look like someone at the altar; someone's wife.

It feels like I'm already getting married.

Through the courtyard, I hold my glass of champagne and walk aimlessly around the mansion in an attempt to never be found. A part of me hopes that anyone looking for me will get too distracted to find me. It will never work, though. My father has never given up on a chase.

"Hey," I hear a familiar voice. I turn back and see Zayn walking up to me with his drink. "I've been looking for you."

I sip my glass, having nothing to say.

"I know you're freaked out..."

"Why would I be freaked out? Because I'm about to meet my future husband for the first time?" I hint with sarcasm.

"Just try to keep an open mind." He calmly says.

"It's not like I have a choice, do I—"

"Mariana." My name gets called.

Zayn turns his head back and steps to the side. With my mother stands an expensively dressed stranger smiling at me. My throat goes tight, my chest aching. I clutch my glass harder.

"I'd like you to meet Ambrose Amato." She smiles in her thousands of dollars worth of attire. "Ambrose, this is my lovely daughter, Mariana."

He takes my hand, holding my gloved fingers delicately.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." He kisses my knuckle.

Soft brown hair and bright silver eyes. His lips are full, his jaw sharp as he puckers against my hand. One of the first things I notice is how perfectly angled his facial hair is; it's trimmed short but clean on the edges. His eyebrows are perfectly maintained, too. He's tall and smells rich in cologne.

I snap out of my stare, realizing I haven't said anything yet.

"The pleasure is mine." I greet as he releases my hand.

"I'll leave you both to get to know each other." My mother leaves with a gentle rub up my arm. Zayn goes with her.

I look back at Ambrose in front of me. His eyes scan me up and down, shaking his head in slight awe.

"You look remarkable." He smiles.

"Thank you."

"The second my father told me about this beautiful, rebellious Mariana, I had to meet you. I've been admiring you from afar for a while now."

He's not as old as some people I've been set up with, but he's certainly older than me. I would bet he's thirty.

"And what has been told to you?"

"That you were once lost and broken. But now, you're fixed." He grins. "But I would've had you either way."

I gently nod, swallowing to myself.

"Broken, you say?" I ask in curiosity.

"Well, you had a hard time accepting your fate in this life. I understand you were strayed from your parents for a long time. But look at you now."