𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭
❝𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 . . . 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞.❞
𝗗𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗰 𝗡𝗶𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘀 𝗖𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗼 takes on his role as his sister's right hand man and he'll do any mi...
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❝𝙴𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌, 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎.❞
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I have been staring at the girl in the corner of the venue for the longest time. She's one of the two live painters who was hired to paint at this wedding.
I recognized her immediately when I walked through the door. She and her grandfather were hired by Alessandra to paint for her wedding. That was a little over a year ago–maybe two years ago.
I couldn't stop looking at her then and I can't stop looking at her now.
God, I'm fucking weird.
I should stop.
I need to stop.
The sound of cheering zones me back into reality.
"Alright," Asteria says with a chuckle. She leans into Christian as he wraps an arm around her. "I just want to thank everyone for coming all the way to Brazil. I never imagined myself getting married here but I wouldn't have it any other way. Um . . ." she chuckles nervously. "That's all I have to say."
Guests erupt into laughter as Asteria turns to Christian. While she's talking to him in the ear, I take it as my cue to get up and walk over to the all-you-can-eat buffet.
Guests could either eat from the buffet or order something from the menu. Both have been a big hit.
I would think about doing the same for my own wedding, but I doubt I'll get married. Never gonna happen.
I reach for a plate at the same time as someone else.
We get the same idea of pulling our hands back and apologizing.
I finally look at the person who I almost stole a plate from. Or who almost stole a plate from me.
It's the same girl I've been looking at like some stalker.
I clear my throat and hold my hand out. "Dominic."
"Yes, I know who you are," she responds, shakes my head, and elaborates when she notices my confused facial expression. "Your sister, Alessandra. She's told me about you."
"Ah." I nod. "Let me guess. She's told you what a pain in the ass I am."
"Um . . . sure. We'll go with that." She grabs the plate and begins serving herself. "I'm assuming you're here because there's no line for the food."
"You'd be correct."
"You know you haven't told me your name yet."
She stays quiet for some time before answering. "Desiree. Desiree Monet."
Desiree Monet.
Pretty name.
"How is it that you know my name but I don't know yours?" I ask as I fill my plate with food. This is my fourth plate now. I have barely eaten anything all day.
"I don't know." Desiree shrugs. "I talk to Alessandra more than I do with you. In fact, I have never once talked to you. This is the first time actually."
"Seriously?"
She nods. "I'm pretty sure I've talked to everyone who lives in the Castillo residence. Probably those from the Morales residence in New York too. You don't look all that approachable either. No offense."
I'm taken aback by the last two words.
"None taken."
"Do you want to sit with me at my table? We're in the corner–far from people. You aren't much of a people person unless they are your friends or family."
"You know me so well, Desiree."
She chuckles. "I got that little detail from your sister as well. Honestly, I could already know everything about you, but I stopped her from saying any more. It didn't feel right."
I let her take me to her table and we sit down. There are two canvases. Both are facing the wall, away from the table and the guests. "When was that?"
"At this charity ball that my grand-père and I were invited to since they needed live painters for entertainment. Alessandra and her husband, Ceaser, were there too."
"They're big on donating to charities."
"Yeah." Desiree takes a bite of her food and chews it before swallowing. "Anyway, the night was coming to an end and people were leaving. Ceaser was gone for maybe an hour since he had to talk business with people–whatever that meant. Alessandra got drunk and she started spilling secrets about you."
"Anyone else or just me?"
"She got a text from you. That's all it took."
I chuckle. "I hope Ceaser was sober and got them home safe."
"He was and he did," she says. "My grand-père made Ceaser take those tests to make sure he's sober. He wasn't going to let Alessandra leave with him if he wasn't. He wasn't going to let Ceaser leave either."
Ceaser's a responsible man, nonetheless.
He would never do anything that would put Alessandra in danger. She's everything to him and vice versa.
"How long have you been painting for?" I ask hoping to change the subject.
"Since I was a little girl," Desiree responds and glances at the canvases. "My grand-père introduced fingerpainting to me and that was all it took for me to develop a love for it. What's amazing is that you can never master it. There's always something new to learn."
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