Chapter 07

Greetings sweet people....
How are you?

Please ignore the typo mistakes

Enjoy!!
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"Dada, why put on a white tie?" Ethan questioned his dada.

This boy questions a lot. Nedvar thought, but he knew he was like that because he had curiosity about everything. "Mama wore a white dress, so I wore this tie to match her," he explained while putting on his watch on his left wrist. Ethan's mouth formed an 'O' as he contemplated his dada's words.

Nedvar had explained about marrying her soon, so that baby Ethan would have a mama too. Nedvar would always fulfill all his baby’s wishes as soon as he told him, but giving him a mother took him five years. He did not want someone who loved his fame, power, and money to be the mother; he wanted someone who would prioritize his child more than herself, like a mother does for her child.

Was it the most impossible wish he had? But he loved his child, and for his child, he was even ready to leave his dame if she turned out bad.

“I will leave now; you sleep early today and don’t eat ice cream as you have tonsils,” Nedvar said, kneeling in front of the baby who was sitting on the edge of the bed with his iPad. “Yes, dada, say hey to mama, have fun tonight,” he said and turned his focus back to the game he was playing. Nedvar pulled him up and placed him near the headboard so he could lean against it. He covered Ethan’s tiny legs with a thick blanket. He turned to see Sera (sister-in-law, Aldo’s wife) standing by, leaning on the doorframe. “Go have fun tonight,” she said mischievously, to which Nedvar rolled his eyes, nodded, and smiled. He walked past her outside the room and made his way down.

His parents were on the terrace having a date. Aldo was busy with some of his hospital reports. Rocco was waiting in the limo. He was leaving late so he could have time and make a majestic entry after all the ribbon cutting.

The limo halted near the entrance of the hotel driveway. Nedvar and Rocco scanned the place, relieved that the media was nowhere in sight. Nedvar stepped out as he buttoned his coat buttons; he had worn a black suit with a cream tie that matched Hermione’s dress.

The guards walked in front as he wanted to enter while grabbing everyone’s attention. He put his right hand in his trouser pocket and walked like the king he was, his dangerous, cold aura already radiating from him, making people move away.

Nedvar walked inside with his usual cold face and steel dark eyes scanning the crowd to find the blue-eyed woman who had stolen his heart and made him want to give his soul to her in a heartbeat.

He roamed his gaze, but to his luck, he did not find her—until she appeared in front of him just like the first time.

Nedvar locked his gaze with her blue orbs; he felt lost, and this feeling of loss made him feel a tsunami of oxytocin rush through every fiber of his body, instantly making him feel good.

Hermione, on the other hand, had no idea why she felt sudden nervousness and a weird churning in her stomach.

Nedvar smiled at her as he read her eyes, which showed that she felt the slight pull between them.

“Nedvar Dario Wyatt, nice to meet you, my queen,” Nedvar introduced himself and greeted her. The hall filled with gasps as it became clear that the Mafia King had made his appearance in public.

The people in the crowd stared at Hermione, waiting for her response, some anticipating that she was also involved with the Mafia family.

“Can’t say the same, Mr. Wyatt,” Hermione's blunt response shocked the guests and herself.

I think not having proper food is making me crazy, she thought, making sure not to give away that she was scared.

“Bold of you to come uninvited to an event, Mr. Wyatt,” Hermione spoke again, making people stare at her in astonishment. Papa Warner stood a little behind, watching the way she handled the Mafia King; as her dad, he felt protective, but he also knew that Nedvar knew his limits, as he understood the family dynamics. So he remained calm, as Nedvar was not his enemy, but also cautious since he was not a friend of the Allens.

No one moved from their place; the guests felt rooted in place, wanting to find out what would happen next.

Hermione shifted her gaze to see Rocco standing near one of the guards with a sheepish grin on his face, making her want to punch him. She composed herself, as she was the Devil Queen who could handle the situation in her elegantly dangerous way.

Nedvar chuckled at her comment, as Hermione frowned, trying to figure out what funny joke she had said to him. “No doubt only the Queen would question back an Italian-French Mafia King,” Nedvar’s statement was like an announcement for the people and for her. Hermione rolled her eyes at his very weird comment out of the blue.

“To answer your previous statement, I do have an invitation, my queen,” Nedvar said while motioning to Rocco, who passed the invitation card Hermione had given him the previous day.

“You told me to bring the chairman too, so here he is to congratulate you,” Rocco smoothly spoke while casually standing there. She thought about brushing it off with a snarky comment, but a big body covered her, and Nedvar’s grey eyes met Sam’s brown ones.

Sam threw a nasty glare towards Rocco before his hawk eyes traveled to Nedvar, who glared back.

Sam’s expression remained blank, not fearing the dominant, dangerous, and cold aura of Nedvar. The guests felt the air turn thick; the hall grew tenser with every passing minute. Sam slightly turned back, glancing at Hermione from the corner of his eye through his shoulder to see that Hermione’s eyes held no fear.

This lady is unpredictable, ugh, Sam thought to himself as he took a side step when Papa Warner stepped in between. “It’s good to have your presence here, Mr. Wyatt.” Nedvar just smiled at him, genuinely.

Of course, he had to show his sincerity to his future father-in-law.

“You can address me as Nedvar, Mr. Allen,” he implied with a calm tone, and just like that, everyone in the hall returned to their own conversations.

In a few minutes, everyone became comfortable, and the event started to feel lively again, with the guests happily enjoying the starters and drinks served to them.

Hermione got stuck with the man whose name she forgot again for the seventh time that evening, having to remind him that she had a blind date with him about 8-9 months ago, as her mama had forced her to attend before she flew to Auckland.

Nedvar sat at the corner table away from the crowd as he did not want to discuss business here; he only came to see his dame after two bitter, tormenting years.

Nedvar looked to the opposite side of the hall, where she stood with the man named Alex Accardi, the guy chosen by Hermione’s mama, Clair.

Nedvar kept his cool, as he did not want to scare Hermione. He slowly trailed his grey eyes, watching her expression and body language.

Hermione wore a satin creamy gown that highlighted her smooth, soft aura while also radiating power and danger at the same time. Her chocolate brown hair stood out; he had always preferred blondes, but everything changed when he developed feelings for Hermione.

The dress defined her curves, though it did not show much skin, and she made it look extremely beautiful. Her bare wheat-ish arms looked so delicate, but he knew very well that a punch from that hand could cause a broken jaw and a severely busted lip.

Nedvar observed how much she was resisting the urge to snap at Alex and how shamelessly Alex kept glancing at her chest, as the dress showed a small amount of cleavage.

“Better take a picture, Nedvar Dario Wyatt,” said a soft yet authoritative voice that made Nedvar flinch. Only his Mama Arne called him by his full name, a cue that signaled her anger.

He turned to see who dared to address him so familiarly despite his reputation as the ruthless Mafia King. A pair of playful blue eyes met his, glinting with amusement.

Bianca Sofia Allen regarded him with a teasing smile before glancing toward Hermione, who was forcing a smile at one of her dad’s business partners.

Nedvar followed her gaze, feeling momentarily lost. Bianca moved closer, her height matching his as he sat. She settled into a seat diagonal to him, gesturing for the waiter to place a tray on the table. The tray held three chocolate muffins and a glass of mango juice.

Bianca picked up a muffin and took a bite, then raised her gaze to find Nedvar watching her intently.

“Do you want Vee to put some sense in you?” she asked, sipping her juice while observing her sister.

(Vee is the nickname Bianca uses to refer to her sister, Silvia.)

“Maybe I am trying to grab her attention either way,” Nedvar replied, his tone soft.

Bianca raised an eyebrow, challenging him to succeed.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to work on that. You can’t just sit here clenching your fists every time some man looks at her body. And the way you're staring? Vee will strangle you right here in front of everyone.” She stated this in a matter-of-fact tone.

Nedvar stared at her, wide-eyed, too shocked to ask how she knew that he’d been lost in thought.

“Don’t be too shocked, Ned. I’ve been observing your every move for the past ten minutes.” She wore her bratty attitude like a badge of honor. Being the youngest Allen, she was spoiled by the family and even the maids indulged her whims. But she was also astute—now in her first year of psychology, she had a knack for reading people.

Bianca noted Hermione's body language when she met Nedvar’s gaze. Hermione’s fists had clenched tightly, a sure sign she was hiding her nervousness.

Nedvar looked toward Hermione again and saw her eyes filled with anger. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, which Bianca heard.

“Relax, Ned. Vee can handle herself perfectly.” She spoke confidently.

Nedvar turned back to Bianca, observing her as she bit into another chocolate muffin. “You’re very smart, Sofia,” he complimented, knowing she preferred to be called that over princess, which only her father was allowed to use.

“I know that, Ned,” she sassed, making him grin. “You love Vee,” she stated boldly, not even bothering to frame it as a question.

Nedvar knew he couldn’t lie to her. “So you will tell her,” he teased, causing her to giggle lightly. In that moment, he swore he would protect her innocence like his own sister.

“Mom wants her to marry Alex,” she said, making Nedvar’s posture stiffen. He felt a surge of anger but controlled his expression, shifting slightly in his seat.

“You know I do not like that stupid asshole,” Bianca added casually, which shocked Nedvar.

He remained silent for a moment, observing the scene unfolding at the next table.

Hermione, her parents, and Alex stood by a corner table. He and Bianca sat silently, eavesdropping. Nedvar wore a blank expression but listened closely, while Bianca finished her third muffin, feigning oblivion to the drama.

“I said no. That is my final answer,” Hermione’s cold voice cut through the air.

Alex shook his head, taking a step closer to her.

“Tesoro, non ti stiamo costringendo. Vogliamo solo che tu ci provi.”
(Sweetie, we’re not forcing you. We just want you to give it a try.)
Mama Clair added, rubbing circles on Hermione’s arm.

Hermione shook her head firmly, refusing to utter another word. She knew that speaking further would only draw unwanted attention and fuel gossip.

Nedvar’s mere presence was already enough for months of speculation.

“We’ll discuss this later,” Alex insisted.

“There is no more discussion. I said no, and no one can change my mind.” Hermione pointed at Alex before storming away toward her friends, who were gathered with drinks.

The Allen couple returned to their business talk. Nedvar observed Warner, who had his arm wrapped possessively around Clair, a gesture indicating she was the only woman worthy of such affection. Though the Allen family ran a small company, their partnership was significant, cemented through an arranged marriage. Warner managed to balance work and personal life, ensuring Hermione became an independent woman.

Nedvar noticed Carlo Savio Allen, Hermione’s younger brother, who stared daggers at Alex. If looks could kill, Alex would be burning in hell. Carlo, with his arm around Hermione’s shoulder, leaned into her as they conversed with her friends.

“You know I love you more. Alex is no comparison to you,” Bianca chimed in, making Nedvar’s ego swell.

“Alex is a complete asshole, pervert, jerk—”

“Okay, okay, stop there. I don’t want you to go further, Teufel.” (devil)
He interrupted, but the last word piqued Bianca’s interest.

“You speak German?” she asked, bouncing slightly in her chair with excitement.

Nedvar nodded. “My mom is from Germany, so you can connect the dots.”

Bianca motioned for Nedvar to lean closer, and he obliged. She checked left and right to ensure no one was listening, making Nedvar chuckle softly. Bianca playfully tapped the back of his hand, prompting a surprised stare from him. It was as if they were old friends, and he had just met her.

“Sshh if you want to know a secret,” she whispered, placing her index finger on her lips.

Nedvar mirrored her gesture, intrigued.

“Vee wants to marry a Vampire husband,” she said slowly, as if revealing an illegal drug deal.

Nedvar straightened up, caught off guard, while Bianca finished her juice and wiped her lips, took the last bite of her chocolate muffin. He couldn’t help but laugh at her earnestness.

“Don’t look at me like that. I want the chocolate taste on my tongue,” she retorted, and they both laughed together.

“Excuse me, Mr. Wyatt. I’m sorry if Bianca troubled you,” Aurora said, helping her get up.

Bianca turned to leave but paused, causing Aurora to raise her eyebrows. Bianca walked back to Nedvar, hugging him tightly.

“I wish you could be Vee’s Vampire husband. Perfect match,” she said with conviction and hope.

Nedvar smiled, his eyes promising her, Of course, yes. Hell yes!

With that, Bianca skipped back to her family table, where dinner would be served shortly. Rocco returned, and he and Nedvar walked toward the dining area.

As they settled in, Nedvar’s mind lingered on the words that echoed in his brain.

Vee’s Vampire husband! So she is not the vanilla type.

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Malak 🤍