Elian returned from the bathroom with a storm written across his face. His steps were brisk, his jaw tight and his fingers tugged at the silver chains across his chest like they were choking him.
Marisol caught the expression instantly, rising halfway from her chair as he slid back into his seat. "What happened?" she asked, her voice low.
"Don't." Elian snapped, cutting her off with a sharp glare. He leaned back in his chair and grabbed his drink, swirling it once before throwing it down his throat. The burn in his chest was preferable to the one simmering in his head.
Marisol exhaled slowly, deciding silence was safer.
Before either of them could say more, the chandeliers dimmed slightly and the attention of the entire hall shifted. A spotlight illuminated the stage where Alessandro stood, grinning like a mad man who thought the world itself was his audience. A glass of wine in one hand, microphone in the other.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" his booming voice carried through the hall, accompanied by that laugh, that Elian recognized all too well. "I'm so glad to have you all here tonight. Truly, it brings me joy to see so many familiar faces, so many bright ones too. I hope you've all been enjoying yourselves!"
A wave of polite laughter and applause rippled through the crowd.
Elian rolled his eyes, muttering, "God, he loves the sound of his own voice."
"Shh," Marisol hissed, elbowing him before anyone else caught on.
Alessandro lifted his glass higher. "Now, to the reason I invited you all here tonight. It is my greatest pleasure to announce a wedding, my son's wedding! Two months from now, he will take his vows, and I sincerely hope to see all your beautiful faces shining just as bright then as they are tonight."
The hall erupted in applause, cheers echoing against the high ceilings. Couples whispered excitedly, friends clapped backs, and waiters slipped between tables refilling glasses for the impromptu toast.
Elian's expression didn't change. Shocking? Maybe. Unexpected? Not really. He knew Alessandro's son. They'd crossed paths a few times at functions like this. They've had civil conversations, niceties, nothing deeper. Friendships had never been his thing anyway. A waste of time, in his opinion.
But then Alessandro's booming voice came again, sharp enough to slice through Elian's thoughts.
"And now..... I pass the honors to the son of a very dear friend of mine. Someone whose name, I know, speaks for itself. Elian Cruz."
The spotlight snapped to his table, catching the gleam of his velvet shirt and silver chains, illuminating his face like he was on stage himself.
Elian froze.
Alessandro smiled like the devil. "It is my son's wish that you design his wedding attire. A wish from his heart. And I trust you, Elian, to deliver something flawless."
For a moment, Elian thought he'd misheard. His brows shot up, lips parting, and before he could stop himself, the words slipped out under his breath, too sharp, too incredulous.
"What the fuck?"
Marisol's nails dug into his arm. "Oh my God, shut up and stand up!" she hissed, smiling tightly at the nearest guests who had turned in curiosity.
Elian sucked in a sharp breath through his nose and pasted on the fakest smile he could manage. He rose gracefully to his feet and gave the crowd a short bow, the kind of movement practiced a hundred times before cameras and fashion weeks. Heads nodded approvingly, whispers buzzed.
And then he sat back down, immediately grabbing his glass and taking another shot.
"What the hell was that?" Marisol demanded, eyes narrowing on him.
Elian leaned back in his chair, tilting his head toward her with an expression of cold indifference. "Don't stress me, Marisol. I have my own problems."
"Problems?" she repeated, nearly scoffing. "You just got publicly locked into designing probably the most important suit of the year, Alessandro Vitale isn't just anyone and you know that, half the country's elite is present here tonight. Be careful."
Elian's smile didn't reach his eyes. He swirled the liquid in his glass, his gaze fixed on the golden surface as though it held the answers. "Yeah, whatever."
On stage, Alessandro raised his glass one final time. "And now, let us raise our glasses, to love, to family, and to nights as beautiful as this one. Enjoy yourselves, ladies and gentlemen!"
Glasses clinked all around the room. But at their table, Elian sat back, sipping lazily, eyes narrowed, his thoughts elsewhere.
Be careful? Please. The only thing he cared about right now was the fact that somewhere in this very hall, Damian Moretti was probably watching everything with those eyes that made him look like he saw everything and everyone beneath the sole of his shoes.