Capítulo 13: Chapter 5 - Gabriella (3)

I sink to the floor, groaning in frustration as Jax's words come back to me and I look down at my robe. Perhaps wearing my silk robe wouldn't be so bad. I give it a thought for a few seconds…and then I turn into a hissy fit jabbing and kicking the air like a petulant child.

Does Mariano really want me to wear this? Does he genuinely think it looks nice? Because I swear, he's fucking with me. I can already see it. The look in his eyes when he sees me in this dress. I can hear his stupid laughter in my head. Why else would he send me this dress?

I fall back on the carpet and put my feet up on the bed, staring at the ceiling and imagining my closet back home that's full of pretty dresses. If I were there, I could pick any one of those white dresses. Mariano said tonight's wedding is only a ceremony and there will only be a couple of people to witness it. I should probably be glad that's the case because I don't want the guest thinking I traveled back in time.

It's just a dress, right? This marriage I'm about to go into looks more like a joke than the dress.

Glancing down at the poofy skirt beside my feet, I purse my lips as I ruminate. Maybe I can do something about it.

One second I'm on the floor, and the next, I'm grabbing the wireless telephone and dialing the hotel operator while I start checking the drawers. "Hi, I need scissors. Can you send one to my room?" I ask.

"I apologize, Ma'am. We were strictly told not to provide anything sharp to your room."

My jaw falls slack at the operator's answer. Seriously? I look over to the tray that holds my lunch and saw a butter knife next to the steak. I let out a wicked laugh. I'm losing my mind.

"Then how am I going to cut my dress without scissors?" I mutter incredulously mostly to myself because this is just ridiculous.

The operator is surprised at my tone because she stammers in her response. "Well… Er… If it's for… Um, there is a sewing kit at the bottom of the closet, Ma'am."

Turning around, I open the closet and found a plastic box next to the hotel slippers. I flip the locks and look inside, my eyes are drawn to the folded stainless steel scissors nestled between a thread and a thimble. "Found it. Thank you."

I don't waste time and start working. The scissors are painful to hold in my hand because it's only about three inches long and one inch of them are the blades. But I don't have a choice now.

I don't know how many hours have passed but I think the sun is about to set. And my 80s dress is…not so 80s anymore.

There's a knock on the door and I drag my feet to get there, already tired and the wedding hasn't even happened yet. I see a hotel staff member through the hole, smiling as she holds a shoebox with gloved hands in front of her. When I open the door, she politely greets me and tells me my fiancé dropped the box at the front desk.

I take the box from her and thank her before she left. When I lift the lid, there's a note on top of it.

[ I hope these will fit. I should've asked for your size last night to be sure. Someone will pick you up in an hour. -M ]

Below the note lay a pair of gorgeous blush heels with soft satin bows at the ankle. There's a velvet box inside situated in between the footwear, and my lips part when I open it and see a pair of white gold dangle blue diamond earrings in a halo setting.

These gifts just make me all confused. Why the old dress and then these? And why hasn't he shown himself yet, being all mysterious and stuff?

Whatever. It doesn't matter now because there's no going back.

I keep telling myself that as I stare at the roughly altered white dress on my bed. A renewed resolve rushes through me and I'm reminded of why I'm doing this in the first place. It may not be the best thing that I'll ever do in life, but it's a small sacrifice to save my loved ones' lives.

That's right. This is for them. I'd trade my life as long as I get to keep them safe. There's just one detail that's been driving a sharp pang in my chest as I think about it. In an hour, my last name will no longer be De Luca. Fuck my life.