Arrangement for Miseria by Eternity Rain (red scrolls of magic .txt) 📕

CHAPTER TWO


Walking up to the front door of the Brimstone home Tristan had to steel himself and take a deep breath. Knocking on the maroon painted wooden door he waited patiently on the small front porch. The outside of the house was pleasant enough, with maroon shingles, a maroon door, and porch swing, and white walls. There were small flower beds on either side of the front steps and a small, growing, oak tree on the right side of the walk.
Turning to the door as it opened, Tristan was staring into wide, pale brown eyes on a small woman with graying brown hair and olive skin. She was just short enough to have to stare up at him.
“May I help you, Sir?” She asked, her husky voice seeming slightly familiar. Shaking off the slight sense of de ja-vu, Tristan smiled down at the pretty woman and held out his hand.
“Hello, Ma’am, I’m looking for the Brimstones.” He said, shaking her hand lightly.
“I am Mrs. Maria Brimstone. How may I help you?” She asked, gesturing him inside. Once there she motioned for him to sit, taking the chair beside a small brown couch.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Brimstone. I am Tristan Machio, my father was-.”
“Your father was Mark’s most trusted friend. Yes, I know. You are here to collect you bride, I assume?” She said, her face a frozen mask of impassive dislike.
“Well, she is essential for the wedding.” He began, a wry grin spreading across his face. “May I speak to her please? I know you probably don’t approve to this arrangement, Mrs. Brimstone, but it is very important to my family that I marry Miseria, and that is what I intend to do.” He finished, his face serious.
“You are correct, Mr. Machio, I don’t approve. It isn’t you, but simply the face that it is an arranged marriage is all that bothers me.” She said, her face softening a bit, her mouth eased into a half smile. “You will find Seria at the park around the basketball court most likely. She loves sports, especially basketball. If she isn’t there ask for Toronto Simmons, he is a very good friend of hers, has been for many years, and can most likely point you in the correct direction.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Brimst-.”
“Please, you may call me Maria, you will be my son-in-law in a few short months. This old woman may not like arranged marriages, but why take it out on you?” She asked, her eyes twinkling.
“Maria it is then. Thank you, really.” He said, lifting her hand to his lips for a brief moment before leaving to head for the basketball court he had passed on his way here.


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“Seria, I don’t know where you got your moves but I want ‘em!” Toronto said, grinning. Seria had just slam dunked the ball again and they were taking a short break to drink some water.
“Oh please, Toro! You could never beat me, with or without my moves.” She said, grinning at him and punching him playfully in the shoulder. Toronto knew she was only joking, they were evenly matched and they both knew it.
Laughing and grabbing her he had her in a headlock before she knew what he was doing. “Oh I couldn’t? And what makes you so sure about that, huh?”
“The fact that you couldn’t beat me when we were seven!” She said, her voice muffled by his arm. Throwing and arm down she grabbed his ankle and yanked, causing them both to fall on their butts laughing.
“Hey, I take offense to that!” He said, laughing and helping her stand.
“Good!” She shouted as she sprinted away with the basketball under her arm. Running quickly around the court, ducking around and past Toro to make another ringer shot.
“Hello, do either of you know where I can find Miseria Brimstone?” A familiar voice asked from behind Seria. Turning she was once again faced with Tristan the Elusive. Grinning she raised an eyebrow.
“Tristan. Did you say you were looking for Miseria Brimstone?” She asked, her voice amused.
“Guess Girl? Yes, either Miseria or a young man named Toronto?” He asked, smiling down at her, his grey blue eyes full of laughter.
“Well, first off, this fellow behind me making weird faces, is Toronto.” She said, grinning when she heard Toro curse. “And, second, I am Miseria Brimstone, but I guess you can call me Seria. Seeing as you never did guess my name right.”
“You’re Mis-, Seria Brimstone?” He asked, his eyes going wide and his mouth hanging open. You’d think I’m some sort of leaper, she thought to herself.
“Yes, and You’re Tristan the Elusive.” She said, one side of her mouth twitching upward with amusement.
“I think we might need to have a little talk, Seria.” He said, his jaw clenched. “I’ll drive you home.”
“Ok….” Tossing the ball to Toro she turned and lifted her duffel back. Following him across the court she paused when she saw is gleaming, silver Porsche. She knew it was his because he was standing by the passenger side door, holding it open for her.


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Tristan couldn’t believe that his Mystery Girl was his bride to be. While he was definitely attracted to her, he didn’t want her to be his bride. This only meant that she would grow to hate him. He knew as much already from her personality that she liked to be in control and an arranged marriage definitely wasn’t in her control.
All he could think of as he drove back to her house was what her reaction to the news would be. So far, he didn’t like the possibilities.
“Ok, so what is it you wanted to talk about?” She asked, her face curious. “Take this right.”
“I know, I just came from your house. What I wanted to talk about was you.” Taking a sharp right he parked in her drive way behind a black limo and turned to face her. “I wanted to say that please, no matter what your first feelings are toward me after this. Please, give me a chance before you decide to hate me.”
“Ok? So, what’s with the limo?” She said, raising an eyebrow.
Before she could move he was kissing her. Surprised, all she could do was sit, stunned. A moment later she was kissing him back, her arms wrapped around his neck.
“Come on, we should go in.” He mumbled, pulling away and opening his door. While she unbuckled her seatbelt and lifted her bag he walked around the car and opened her door.
When they walked through the front door she wasn’t surprised to see two well dressed adults sitting on the couch. She was however, surprised by the warm smile from the woman and the piercing scrutiny from the tall, light haired man.
“Mamma, sono a casa!“ She called toward the kitchen, dumping her bag on the floor she dropped into one of the chairs. Ignoring the smiling woman in the red dress she returned the mans scrutinizing glare.
“You are the great Donovan Machio.” She stated flatly, staring dismissively at the tall man.
“And you are Miseria Brimstone. Mark’s daughter if my guess is correct.” He said, his voice impassive.
“Sì, esattamente così che cosa vuoi, Machio?” She asked, one slim dark brow raised. She knew he spoke Italian, her father had taught him, she knew because her mother had had to teach her since her father had been so busy with Donovan.
“Miseria Brimstone, vi viene imperdonabilmente scortese. Apologize, ora, signorina.” Seria’s mother said from the doorway. Her voice was stern and disapproving, but understanding shone in her pale brown eyes as she walked over to stand behind Seria’s chair and give her a pleading look.
“Per favore, mi perdoni, ho una lingua molto allentato. Lo tendo a fare i miei sentimenti per qualcuno chiaro fin dall’inizio. Trovo che mi lascia con una situazione meno complicata. Mu scuso per la mia insolenza.” She muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Seria, in English.” Her mother demanded, narrowing her eyes at her daughter when Donovan gave her a confused look. Apparently her father hadn’t taught him very well.
“Please, forgive me, I have a very loose tongue. I tend to make my feelings for someone clear from the start. I find it leaves me in a less messy situation. I apologize for my insolence.” She said, scowling at the big blond man.
“No, you don’t. You are only speaking the words to appease your mother. You do not truly regret your rude words.” He said, a wide smile breaking across his face. “But that is fine, it reminds me of your father. It is a good quality to be so blunt.”
Seria and her mother stared at the blond man as he laughed, completely stunned.
“And to start with, yes, I am Donovan Machio. And this is my lovely wife, Elaine Machio. It seems you have already met my son, Tristan Machio.”
“Wait, you’re the son of the guy I absolutely despise?” She exploded, shooting to her feet, her brown eyes narrowing on Tristan’s grey blue ones.
“U-uh….” His eyes wide, Tristan didn’t seem to be able to let out a coherent answer.
“Despise? May I ask, young lady, why you despise someone you don’t even know?” Donovan asked, raising a blond brow.
“It doesn’t matter. Why are you here and what do you want from us?” She demanded, standing in front of him ignoring her mothers surprised