LOVE BUG

CHAPTER 52: MERCY

"Yes, we indeed have the project of developing the farm with my future wife here." Fergus throws Anastasia a glance and a smile, which she barely acknowledges.

It may be the alcohol, or maybe the jealousy bubbling in her veins, but she can't stand listening to his continuous rambling.

It has now been more than two hours that they are here, and if she hasn't managed to feel at ease with anyone, Fergus, he, has easily engaged in some conversations. They have even found themselves at the same table as the CEO of a prestigious restaurant chain who is really interested in Fergus's green production. 

This night is at least turning out well for someone, Anastasia muses with no humor as she lets her gaze wander around to all the fairy lights, feathers, and bubbles sculptures that she has memorized every detail and that lead her eyes to the same silhouette she always finds in the sea of people. 

Nathaniel may be wearing a simple navy tuxedo with a black cloth mask that are easy to blend into the shadows of the crowded night, but his strong, tenebrous presence is nothing ordinary, neither his penetrating gaze always meeting hers for stolen stares, which seem to be the only thing they can share tonight, along with the fear of getting unmasked by Pamela that they have partaken in earlier.

She still hasn't caught her breath since then, though maybe it is just because of the familiar tightness of her chest on her churning stomach when her eyes find Nathaniel, and he is once again with his wife in his arms.

It's her party after all, and Anastasia shouldn't be here. It should be guilt wringing her insides for having dared to come here with the hope of meeting Nathaniel, for taking this woman's husband away. Yet as her eyes are stuck on Pamela's arms around Nathaniel's neck, it feels like Pamela is the one taking him away from Anastasia, and she is left alone with this sour emptiness inside.

"Do you wanna dance?"

She blinks at Fergus's hand held out for her. Seething in her corner, she hasn't noticed he has finished his conversation, nor that they are now left alone at their table.

She already knows she won't feel anything of what she feels in Nathaniel's arms, yet she accepts his hand. "Sure."

He is her future husband, after all. She is almost convincing herself of that when out of the corner of her eye, she catches sight of a couple joining on the dancefloor and a dark gaze that doesn't seem to agree with her thoughts.

Nathaniel is dancing with his wife, a few feet away, but all his attention is on Anastasia, and he is quickly catching all of hers with the intensity of his dark gaze. There is something different in the chocolate shades; it is ardent and consuming as much for him as for the one he is staring at.

"It was a nice party, in the end." Fergus's voice near her ear pulls her away from those dangerous eyes. "We're close to signing an important deal."

"Glad it was fruitful for something," she mutters, wishing this dancefloor would crumble and swallow her with all the wrongs of this situation.

"See, you're already contributing to the good work of the farm."

Clearly, no wish of hers is being granted tonight, and rather than being the one crumbling down and swallowed by her nerves, she lets out a dry chuckle, which neither Fergus, nor another attentive gaze notices the sourness of it.

Fergus keeps his satisfied smile, and Nathaniel's gaze only grows darker, his glare evident at Fergus and his hands on Anastasia. With it, she only realizes now that Fergus's hands are boldly wandering from her bare upper back to her hips and lower. His touch leaves her so unaffected that she barely feels it, and actually, she is more aware of Nathaniel's hands as Pamela is too close to him for her liking.