by Dark Angel
I feel calm right up until the Governor comes into view.
His hands on me in theory is one thing; the reality now grinning coolly back at me is another entirely.
I feel my calm break in my chest, panic rising in its place.
His eyes are the stuff of nightmares. It’s damn near painful to see them skim up and down the length of me. Never before have I felt so violated with only a look.
Those eyes promise suffering that has no end.
Thelma appears at my side, looking her usual radiant self.
“Where were you?” she asks.
She’s the one person in the world I most want to tell. I need her to know about the man in the mask. About my one taste of freedom.
The music starting up reminds me that this is not the time. Certainly not the place.
“I’ll tell you later,” I whisper, stepping forward onto the dance floor.
Her gaze follows me, knowing.
I can never hide anything from Thelma.
The Governor meets me in the middle of the room, arms outstretched in offering. I place my hand into his, my body into a proximity that makes me feel ill.
He grasps my hand possessively. Firmly.
He tells me without a word that I am his. I’m bound to him through circumstances beyond my control.
As he spins me around, white dress flying, I know that it’s true.
No kiss in a dark corner can save me now. I am dancing with the beast of my future. My own personal demon, dipping me gracefully before the eyes of many.
As my vision inverts, my back supported by his palm alone, I see my one respite.
Tucked into the corner, surrounded closely by men almost as imposing, is the green-eyed man.
His eyes follow my every movement.
My skin heats up anew, blood rushing wildly to my face.
I feel his eyes on me even more presently than I feel the Governor’s touch.
They match me, they caress me. They touch me more than any hands ever have.
The hands of my captor feel more oppressive than ever, spinning me wildly about.
I know that there’s no escaping the rough embrace of my fiancé, just as I know there’s no escaping my family.
I am a caged woman, bound since birth to a cause I never believed in.
Still, as my hauntingly bridal dress skims across my feet, I search the ever-spinning crowd. Looking desperately for green eyes.
8
Tristan
Her blue eyes scan the crowd frantically, panic etched across them.
My heart skips a beat when they latch onto me.
I feel a spark rush between us, startlingly intense.
A message.
Her eyes cry out for help even as she sets her mouth firmly in resignation. My fingers ache to touch her, hands yearning to reach out and pull her from his grasp.
The Governor.
That monster.
Her white gown swishes around her feet as he spins her for all the world to see, looking like his perfect bride. The image makes me feel sick.
“We should go,” Benny says from my side, drawing me from my thoughts.
I know that he’s right. Getting caught here would be a disaster.
Still, I can’t seem to force my feet into action. I can’t seem to drag my eyes from her twirling form.
“Tristan,” Merc says, more forceful. “Time to leave.”
I pull my eyes from Isobel with a near audible rip, severing the connection. The force that’s drawing me to her doesn’t yield easily.
Merc and Benny are right, though. We have to leave before the party ends. We absolutely cannot be recognized here.
Three Montagues crashing any Capulet party might be enough to start a war. The Capulet girl’s engagement party, though?
That has bloodshed written all over it.
I turn to Merc and Benny, forcing my face into some semblance of normality as I do.
“Let’s go then,” I say, as if I didn’t just have to force the words from my mouth.
Merc’s moving already, shouldering his way through the crowd as politely as possible. No point in drawing attention now.
Benny stills before following him, eyes searching my face for a moment too long. Leave it to Benny to see through my game face.
I gesture for the exit, pointedly ignoring the questions in his eyes.
I definitely can’t handle that now. I can’t explain what I’m feeling, not to myself and definitely not to Benny.
Thankfully, he goes ahead without any further delay, seamlessly blending into the crowd around him.
I follow his lead, avoiding any eye contact that might lead to conversation, taking up as little space as possible with a frame like mine. Nobody seems to notice us, their attention firmly held by the swaying couple currently on display.
And that’s what this is.
A display.
The power and connections of the Capulets, all dressed up and parading about.
I’ve reached the edge of the crowd, moments from freedom, when something drives my head to turn once again.
In the center of the room, the dance has finally ended, applause echoing from the ceiling. Isobel stands still beside the Governor, looking small and fragile at his side.
My heart hurts as I follow her eyes. They eagerly search the side of the room, the place I’ve just left. I know she’s looking for me.
What I wouldn’t give to go to her now.
Love isn’t something I’ve ever been given cause to believe in. The life I’ve lived has always denied, if not outright forbid it.
Looking at her now, though, watching her eyes rake across the churning crowd, I have no other explanation for the way I feel.
I allow myself to look at her a moment more before turning.
As I push through the final remnants of the crowd, I feel determination sweep through me.
This is not the last time I’ll see Isobel Capulet.
I’ll make damn sure of that.
We exit the Capulet building unnoticed, my eyes stalling just a moment too long on a dark corner of the lobby. Her taste finds its way back to my tongue. I can practically feel her wrists in my hand—slender yet somehow full of strength.
It takes a force of will for me to continue out through the door.
The walk to the limo is a rush, rain pelting our exposed faces as we go. It soaks us through in the handful of seconds it takes to arrive.
I half collapse onto the seat the moment I get through the door, the depth of my emotions seeming to have taken a physical toll.
I can’t remember the last time I felt so tired.
A cold glass presses into my limp hand, and I murmur my thanks to Merc before whiskey scorches its way down my throat, relief chasing close behind.
“She’s really something,” Benny says, breaking the silence.
Merc smiles fiendishly. “Sure fucking is. I can see why they keep her locked up.”
His eyes fog over, hinting at thoughts I’d rather he not explore further.
“I kissed her,” I say, half to relieve myself of the burden, half to bring Merc’s mind back to reality.
Four eyes turn quickly to me, just as I knew they would.
“And?” Benny asks.
“It was…different,” I say, unsure of how to explain myself.
Frankly, I’m unsure I would, even if I knew how.
“Different,” Benny parrots. “In a good way?”
I nod unenthusiastically.
“Good,” Benny says, smiling. “You need different. I hate to say it, but what you’re doing really isn’t working.”
I raise an eyebrow in question, and he laughs.
“Did you really think Rosaline was enough to make you happy?” he asks. “Or any of those one-time fucks? Face it, you need different. You need more.”
“Maybe I do.”
“I don’t like it.” Merc says, resolute.
“Oh, come on,” Benny says. “You know I’m righ
t.”
“In general? Maybe. With the Capulet’s little princess? Fuck no.”
Merc’s eyes find me intensely, staring daggers. He says, “You need to think this through, man. You’re fucking playing with fire.”
Merc doesn’t know the half of it.
I’m not playing with fire; I’m fondling a fucking atom bomb.
The smallest slip-up, the whole city goes up in flames.
I nod my understanding to Merc, unsure of what else to do. He knows as well as I that this is a recipe for disaster. What he doesn’t know may be even more important.
The depth of my feelings for her feel tightly bunched in my chest.
I bite my tongue, keeping any further thoughts of Isobel Capulet to myself. There’s no point in voicing the maelstrom raging inside my mind. I can’t make sense of it, so they damn sure won’t be able to.
All I know is that the moment I laid my eyes on her, she belonged to me.
Even one kiss was enough to make me feel possessive beyond all sanity.
I can feel it—white-hot fire spreading through me. It tells me that I have to have her. She has to be mine.
Otherwise, I’ll be consumed entirely.
I finish my whiskey in one long drink, feeling my thoughts click into place as I do.
“I have a plan.” I say, my voice dripping with a confidence I don’t quite feel.
All eyes are on me again as I lean forward, face set in determination.
“Tell us,” Benny says, conspiratorially.
“We’re going back tonight.” I say, plan solidifying even as the words leave my mouth.
“To the Capulets’’?” Benny asks in surprise.
“Why?” Merc demands.
“Because,” I say, feeling a grin spreading across my face. “We’re going to kidnap their princess.”
9
Isobel
I remember the way his lips pressed against mine.
I remember his hot breath and the smell of his skin, so masculine.
My first kiss.
And it was fucking amazing.
And in my heart, I just have this feeling that this man I met—this mystery man—he’s the elusive one I’ve been waiting for.
Is it true? Can fantasies become reality?
I can only hope.
And then the reality that I’ll never see him again comes down on me hard. I shouldn’t have run away from him.
But what else was I gonna do? Kiss a stranger in the hallway forever? Bring him to meet my dad?
I don’t think so. That life is not for me.
I’m not allowed to be happy. My father sees to that.
What I am allowed is to be locked into an arranged marriage with the Governor.
I walk into my huge closet and remove the straps of my dress. It falls to the floor in a puddle. Stepping out of it, I sink down to the plush carpeting of my closet.
This is my favorite place to be.
I have the dream closet, the dream apartment, the dream wardrobe, and what looks like the dream life…from the outside.
Thelma walks in and finds me sitting on the floor.
“That sad, huh?” she says, and I look up at her.
A huge smile spreads across my face, and I say, “Actually, I’m not so sad anymore. I may or may not have had my first kiss tonight.”
Just the thought of him sends thrills through my body. What I wouldn’t give to see him again? My whole body’s on high alert, as though he’s still touching me.
She comes and sits down next to me, taking care to keep her couture intact.
“Are you serious? Who is it?” she asks.
I can tell my face is beaming as I say the words. “Actually, it was that mystery guy you pointed out. The hot stranger.”
“Really? I can’t believe that happened—and right under the nose of the Governor and your father.”
She hugs me, and I sink into her embrace. She knows I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life.
“Yeah,” I say. “Now I know what all the fuss is about. He made me feel…warm.” I close my eyes to remember the hot rush of feelings. “What I felt while he kissed me was like nothing I’ve ever known before.”
“I’m so happy for you, Baby. You deserve the best. You deserve to feel what it’s like to be with a good man.”
She’s right. I do deserve it.
And right now, I’m relishing the feeling between my legs and the memory of his lips pressing down on my own. I swear it’s enough to sustain me for my entire life.
What I don’t tell Thelma is that in my heart, I feel like he’s the perfect guy, the one I’ve been waiting for.
It sounds too silly to admit such a thing. Who falls in love at first sight anyway?
“So, what are you gonna do tonight?” she asks me.
“Oh, nothing. I’m just gonna change and take a bath. Theo said he might try to bust me out of here, and if he does, I’ll call you.”
“Sounds good. Just be careful and make sure you call me if you leave. I’m gonna go out with one of those hot guys I met at the party. And I’ll be back later.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Hey, Baby, I’m really happy you had your first kiss. And I’m glad it was with somebody worthwhile.”
I smile at her.
Of course, she’s right. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for as long as I can remember. It does something to take the sting out of marrying the Governor.
But at the same time, I know it’s unlikely that I’ll ever see the mystery guy again. And I do know that my future is cemented and that I’ll be moving to the Governor’s mansion soon.
I try not to think about that, though, because it brings me down, and tonight I am so very up.
I walk around in my lingerie, like I always do. It’s a habit of mine. No one ever sees me in this apartment, so why not do it? I like to look hot for myself.
I’m about to sink into a hot bath and relish the feeling of him, the guy who gave me my first kiss.
Walking around the apartment, lighting all of my expensive candles, all I can think of is him. I play some soft music and prepare to relax.
Then I pull my cashmere blanket around my shoulders to shield me from the cold as I make my way out to the balcony. I need one more breath of fresh air.
It’s still raining. It’s a heavy kind of rain, the kind that I love.
I look out on the city, one that I know so well. I practically have this view memorized.
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t think about jumping.
I know I would never have the guts to do it, but I’ve felt so trapped for so long that the idea of death comes to me every time I stand out here.
It would be so easy to fling myself over the edge and to forget that any of this ever happened.
Part of me wants to do it to make my father suffer. Part of me wants to do it so that my mother will finally understand how unhappy I’ve been.
They don’t love me, though. I doubt they would mourn me for very long.
The people that would mourn for me are Thelma and Theo. And of course, I could never hurt them like that.
Besides, tonight feels different. One kiss from a mystery man, and I feel like there’s hope again. I may never see him after tonight, but I had at least that one special moment.
A moment when I let myself go, when he held me in his arms and kissed me so passionately, I felt like things in the world could be right for once.
And then I ran away. I wonder what would have happened if I had stayed and confronted those deep things he made me feel.
I close my eyes and try to remember the exact lines and features of his strong and rugged face. I remember his full lips and the commanding way he embraced me. I remember feeling like I could trust him, that he would never hurt me.
Even though he exhibited a sense of power, I didn’t feel frightened of him like I do with the Governor. No, this guy made me feel like I could be safe for once without the aid of bodyg
uards. I feel like I could let go in his arms, and he would always, always catch me.
Mushy, right? What is that anyway? Romance? Lust?
I go inside and get ready to slip into the hot tub when someone knocks on the door. My heart flutters a little bit, because I think it’s Theo and I’ll be able to get out of here. He must’ve had to pull some serious strings.
I keep the blanket wrapped around my shoulders as I go to answer the door.
But the knocking becomes more intense, and it turns into pounding, and I get a little worried. Theo doesn’t knock like that. He knows not to make too much noise.
My stomach drops as I realize this might be it—the moment of danger that I’ve been running from my entire life. Someone is here to take me, and it’s not a Capulet.
I’m all alone with virtually no bodyguards, no Thelma.
I stand back and watch as the door busts in…
And there he is.
The mystery man is here to claim me, but now he doesn’t look caring or docile or trusting. He has a hard look in his eyes, and it makes me afraid.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to cover myself with the soft blanket.
He gazes at me fiercely, and I realize I might’ve underestimated this man.
10
Tristan
The rain is falling, making me drenched.
I don’t fucking care.
My energy is laser-focused…on her.
This kidnapping better go according to plan, or there’ll be hell to pay.
I’m waiting in the back alley of the Capulet fortress.
This is so unlike me. I don’t really go out of my way to break into places. I have men to do that for me.
But tonight is different. She has to see it’s me.
I tried to earn her trust so that she wouldn’t be afraid when I come pounding on her door. But something tells me Isobel Capulet is not gonna be too happy when she finds out I’m a Montague.
Benny waits with me in the alleyway, and soon, Merc is opening the door from the inside.
We have guys everywhere. It’s almost sad how shallow loyalties lie. Wave some money in front of a person, and they’ll switch sides in an instant.