You are my girl, italian

You are my girl, italian

Orla Writer

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"A woman with a tragic past and a man who no longer believes in love due to being betrayed. Caught in a drunken haze, they succumb to a quick wedding. Despite their efforts to deny it, fate will bring them together. A race begins to hide what happened. A wedding, a blackmail, a lie... What could go wrong? Will they be able to fix the misunderstandings that surround them? Will they accept that there is more than lust between them?"

Chapter 1 Preface

Preface

Las Vegas

Nicki was on her seventh drink, she first went to the casino and spent a while there gambling, she was pretty good at poker and bluffing, but after playing a few hands, she got bored. That day was the anniversary of André's death, he would be turning twenty"six. She still remembered his smile, his affection, his sincerity. She adored him, he was her best friend, almost like a brother, and when he died, a part of her died too. For a long time, she barely ate and just cried, but then, due to her uncle and aunt's insistence, she began to live again or at least try to. She was already feeling drunk, those days were when she remembered everything the most and wanted to disappear. In fact, she did, she almost always drank until she passed out and stayed away from everyone for a few days and/or spent her time crying in the cemetery. But this time, she would have to settle for drinking until she fell asleep in bed. Luckily, the casino had a hotel, and she was staying there. She wished so much to be in Italy, but her uncle and aunt had asked her to come see some clients in Las Vegas. She had met with one of them in the afternoon, and he had accepted the new wines and requested more. Her family owned one of the most important vineyards in Italy and distributed it worldwide. The young woman ordered another drink and saw a very handsome man entering through the doors. He went to the bar, but on the opposite side of where she was. She stared at him for a while, he seemed pensive, and she took a risk. She went over to where he was and sat next to him.

"Hello..."

"Hello," the man replied, still looking straight ahead.

"I'm Nicki... Are you okay? Are you from here?"

"Mmm... I'm Dylan, just passing through. And you?" he said, looking at her and raising an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Neither am I, I'm here for... you could say business..."

"Business, huh? Me too, actually, I've already finished what I had to do, but I didn't feel like taking another flight home."

"Lucky you. I have to meet with a client tomorrow night."

"Mmm..." he looked at her and touched her hair, and they both felt that electric current running through them.

"Can I sit with you and we have a drink together?" she asked.

"Of course, then... tell me, what's a pretty girl like you doing alone on a Friday night?"

"I (...)"

They were chatting for a long time, about everything and nothing at the same time. Nicki was affectionate with him, she was already quite drunk and just laughed.

***

Dylan looked at her, enjoying the view. He had arrived exhausted, but happy to have signed a new contract. His company was growing by leaps and bounds, and both he and his partner and friend Ryan agreed that they should expand to Europe. When he arrived at the bar, he did so with an idea, to have a drink and then go upstairs to his room to sleep for a while. His flight would leave at dawn, and he would only have time to take a nap and then leave for home, to Chicago. However, when that woman approached him, and after talking for a while, he realized that his plans could easily change. The girl looked very happy, but also out of it. It was weird, but she made him curious and made him want to get to know her better. At one point, when she fell silent, he could see sadness in her face and, wanting to cheer her up, he said,

"Hey! Wipe that face off. Come on! What do you want to do? Do you want to go for a walk? The night is beautiful," he barely finished saying that, he realized how cheesy it sounded. Well, that night he was behaving like a teenager. It was obvious that alcohol softened him.

"Mmm?" suddenly her face blushed slightly. "Hey, do you want to marry me?"

"What? Get married? That's too drastic," he chuckled, thinking it was just a joke.

"Come on!" she got up. "It'll be fun. Are you a boring man who always does what he should and never takes risks?" she mocked him, looking at him with sparkling eyes.

"Hey!" he complained. "Attacking my vanity won't get you anywhere."

"Come on! You know what they say, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," she insisted, pulling him and leading him down a hallway a few meters away.

They arrived at a hall where there were a few couples in costumes. At one point while they were still waiting in line, Nicki started laughing, and Dylan looked at her puzzled.

"What's happening?"

"It's just that," bursts of laughter came out of her. "It's just that... look over there," she pointed to a couple who were being affectionate. "That couple is an avocado, an avocado! Do you understand? Each one is a half. The man wears the seed so well, he has such a belly. They're so funny, don't you think?"

"What I think is that you're too drunk," he said, trying to get her out of line.

"Of course not!" she raised two fingers and said, "look, here I have... two... yes, two fingers."

Minutes later, it was their turn, she gave her details, which she managed to babble in any case, and he did the same, knowing that he would regret it later.

***

After a few signatures, they were already husband and wife. Nicki laughed incessantly, and asked and answered silly questions that aroused more laughter. Dylan rummaged through his wallet for the key to his room and made her enter almost dragging her, as she was clinging to him and almost not letting him walk. Once there, she went straight to bed.

"My room is a suite, don't you like it? I love it, it has springs, look!" she stood on top and started jumping up and down like a little girl.

"Stop it already! You're going to fall!" he scolded her, worried. "Even if you deny it, the alcohol has gone to your head, and if you keep it up, you'll hit your head." He took her out of bed and put her on the dresser. When he put her there, she vomited on him and looked at him embarrassed. He sighed and said, "Stay here, I'll go change in the bathroom."

Dylan went to the dresser, took off his shirt, and cleaned it as best he could. He came out and saw that Nicki was sleeping in the middle of the bed, curled up, hugging herself. He placed her in a position that would be more comfortable for her and covered her carefully so as not to wake her up. Although, if he thought about it, not even a stampede would wake her up.

Married... he was married... how did he let himself be convinced? Dylan thought to himself, he sees a pretty face and does what she wants. He took off his pants and lay down next to her, wearing only boxers. Tomorrow he should fix that problem, he couldn't be married. He was not in favor of marriage, in fact, he had sworn never to make.

The next day, Dylan woke up first, realizing that nothing had been a dream; the ring was on his finger as well as on the girl's. She slept peacefully, her shiny blonde hair spread over the pillow. They were face to face, sideways, and unconsciously, he had her waist in his grip. He looked at her for a while; the young woman seemed to be having a bad dream or feeling unwell because she furrowed her brow and clenched her hands. He proceeded to loosen her fingers and gently caress her face. That woman was beautiful, and he, although he wouldn't admit it aloud, had a lot of fun with her. Nicki was funny and suddenly threw out those bewildering phrases that made him wonder what kind of life she had. Whenever he asked her a very personal question, she redirected the conversation to something she felt comfortable with. He let it go since, as he had decided, he would stay in Las Vegas to enjoy her for a few days, until the spark faded. Then they would arrange the divorce, and it would be as if it never happened. Simple.

He slid his thumb under her eyes; she had dark circles. She instinctively reacted and, still asleep, grabbed his hand and placed it under her head.

"Don't leave me, André," she murmured. "Please don't leave me, I love you too much... please... please," she continued.

Dylan got out of bed in anger. He wouldn't be anyone's second fiddle. He, thinking about undressing her, and she thinking about someone else. A lover? Boyfriend? He felt like a fool, betrayed; he had asked her if there was a man in her life, and although she answered no, from experience, he knew that women lied right and left. This one was no exception. He wouldn't have sex with a woman who, when with him, thought about someone else.

He searched for his clothes and put them on. He searched the room and found his watch. He checked if he hadn't forgotten anything and looked back at the bed. They would have to sort out their marital status soon. He wouldn't remain married, especially not to such a false woman. He took off the ring she had and put it in his pocket, heading towards the door.

"Goodbye. I hope you regret meeting me as much as I do," he whispered, then left and closed the door forcefully.

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