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

gasp. She was stretched to the max and she felt about to explode out of anticipation.
“Fine, if you must know, I am here because you are to marry my son.” He said, smiling when complete shock crossed Seria’s face.
“Oh, Donovan, you are awful! You should have let the girls mother explain things to her!” The woman in the red dress said, standing and eyeing Seria worriedly. Reaching out she placed a hand on her shoulder and pressed Seria back down into her chair. “Maria, will she be all right? She’s awfully pale.”
“Seria? Miseria, guarda me. Stai bene, bambina?” Maria asked, kneeling in front of Seria, with Elaine Machio hovering close behind.
“L'uomo è il male, io non sposerò il figlio, mamma.” Seria said, her stomach heaving, looking down at her mother with a defiant look on her face.
“Sweetie, you have to. When your father died his will stated that when you were sixteen your were to go to England with Donovan’s son and you two were to get married. Donovan and Mark had agreed on this, Seria. And there are no loop holes, I looked.” Maria said, and with her words Seria’s last hope to escape this fate was crushed while it was still growing.
Complete quiet filled the room as Seria stood, walked up to Tristan and narrowed her eyes at him.
“Avevi ragione a pensare che ti odio per questo. E mi rifiuto di rivedere l’emozione. Hai rovinato tutti I miei piani per la mia vita, e in cambio, sto andando a fare e sposata con me la cosa peggiore che sia mai successo a te.” She whispered in his ear then turned and ran up the stairs with her duffel bag.


CHAPTER THREE


Seria’s words seemed to echo inside Tristan’s head as he was loading her luggage into his car two days later.
“You were right to think I would hate you for this. And I refuse to revise the emotion. You have ruined all my plans for my life, and in return, I am going to make being married to me the worst thing that ever happened to you.”
She couldn’t mean it, he thought, his eyes closing briefly. But then again, she sure had looked convincing. Closing the trunk and walking to the passenger side door of his Porsche, he held the door patiently as she hugged her mother and told her goodbye.
“Seria, we should be going, don’t want to miss our flight.” He said calmly, refusing to flinch under the glare, full of hate and malice, she sent his way.
“Goodbye, Mamma.” She said, slipping into the leather seat. She spared no look at him as he took the drivers seat and started the car.
Driving away from the small, quant house, Tristan was in a slightly better mood. This time next week they would be reclining in the castle his father had bought out of amusement and in no time she would warm up to him, he was sure of it. So why did his heart feel a million times heavier when he saw the pain she tried so hard to cover with biting remarks and withering looks?
An hour later at the airport Tristan hustled Seria to the waiting area and went to check when their flight was leaving. Usually he would just use the family private jet but his parents had went home on it the day before.
As he walked up to the young lady is the blue blazer who was standing behind the information counter he had a flicker of unease when he saw a look of recognition in her eyes.
“Hi, I’m Tristan Machio,” He said, smiling at her and handing her his and Seria’s tickets. “I was just wondering when my flight will be leaving. I’m on the three o’clock flight to England.”
“Oh, no….” She said, her face falling. The look did nothing to settle Tristan’s hyper active nerves at the moment. “I am so sorry, Sir. Your flight was canceled due to technical errors on the plane. The flight was rescheduled for five thirty Monday afternoon, next week.”
“What?” Tristan asked, his eyes bulging. “But, my wedding, is Monday, next week, at five thirty!” He said, his voice rising.
“I’m really sorry, Sir. But there is nothing we can do until the plane has been fixed.” She said calmly enough, her chin raising slightly. Looking down at her gold painted name tag he read her name the took a slow breath.
“Look, Ms. Stevens, you don’t seem to understand. I can’t show up late to my own wedding. It’s rude, uncouth, and utterly embarrassing. There has to be something, anything, that can be done to get me and my bride to England.”
“Sir, I told you, there is nothing that can be done. The only flight heading to England is a supplies plane. Sir, I have to ask you to leave, or I will be forced to call security and have them remove you from the building.” She said, her calm voice making Tristan’s temper flare again.
“Tristan, lets just go. There’s nothing Ms. Stevens can do.” Seria’s calm voice said from behind him. Almost instantly he felt more calm, more under control.
Thanking the young woman he quietly bought two tickets for the Monday flight, turned and led Seria back to their bags, loaded the stuff back in the car and drove to the nearest hotel. When Seria calmly but firmly suggested they stay with her mother he politely declined the notion of invading the woman’s privacy.
“I’m going to go check us in. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” He said, his voice cool and controlled.
“Whatever, just don’t take to long. I bore easily.” She said sarcastically, glaring at him.
With a cold kind of finality Tristan closed the Porsche’s door and walked into the hotel without a backwards glance.


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“I’m going to check us in. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Seria mimicked, getting out of the car and grabbing her basketball from the back seat of the Porsche.
Who does he think he is, she though as she dribbled the ball and spun it on her finger. Obviously, she thought, he figured that since she had to marry him, that she had to do what he said. Boy is he in for a surprise when he realizes just how strong willed I am, she thought menacingly.
“Seria? Hey, what up, CC?” A familiar and very hated male voice called out from behind her. Turning she found her self nose to chin with the football quarter back from the high school.
“I thought I taught you and your self conceited butt a lesson the last time you called me CC.” She said, remembering with great mirth how she had poured a two liter of mountain dew down the front of his jeans in front of the entire school.
“Well, CC, I guess that method just didn’t work.” Aren Stone said, grinning down at Seria. Aren was a tall guy, plenty of muscle but not to bulky. He had big baby blue eyes and sandy blond hair, and a killer smile, or so the cheer leaders said.
“Do you really want to risk that part of your anatomy by calling me that?” She asked, motioning to where her knee was and how close it was to a very sensitive area. Even Aren had to appreciate her guts at threatening a guy like that.
“Ok, you win. I’ll just call you Ria.” He said, grinning. Scowling she considered smacking his grin off his face but decided her temper had to stay in tack as long as her pride did.
“Go away, Stone, I’m busy.” She said, turning her back to him and proceeding to ignore him while she feigned and dribbled around an invisible opponent.
“Oh come on, Ria, don’t be that way! You know you like me, and, since I’m a nice guy, I’ll guy out with you. All you gotta do, good looking, is say the word.” He said arrogantly from behind her, making her freeze. Clenching her jaw she decided her pride could only take so much.
“Shut it, Stone, or I’ll shut it for you.” She growled, stuffing her ball back into the car and digging around in her bag till she found some money. A drink would do her good, maybe even calm her down a bit.
“Oho, I like that idea. How you gonna shut it, with kisses?” He asked, wagging his eyebrows at her. Dropping her bag she decided betting the idea that she hated him into his thick skulled brain would calm her down even better. She was stopped by a smooth, calm voice from her right.
“Well, I would hope not. After all, that wouldn’t fare well for your face since she’s my fiancée.” Tristan said, raising a golden eyebrow at Aren, smirking defiantly.
“Yeah, you heard the man! I’m his fiancee, now get out of here and stop trying to steal a date before I decide you need a real lesson on how to not be conceited.” Seria warned, grinning evilly, loving the surprised look on both men’s faces.
Aren, narrowing his baby blues at both of them, walked off without about her word. Tristan on the other hand, stood there staring at her as if she had grown a third eye in the last thirty seconds and she didn’t know it.
“Well? Did you get us rooms?” She asked, raising a dark brown brow in question.
“No, they were all full. I was going to ask if you knew of any other hotels in the area.”
“Nope, closest one if in Fairport, and that’s atleast thirty miles from town.”
“Oh.” He said, taking a deep breath and climbing into the car.
Seria followed quietly, considering her idea. “You know, we could stay with-”
“We are not staying with your mother, Miseria.” He said, locking his jaw firmly, not allowing her to finish the thought.
“Not my mother, Einstein,” She said, rolling her eyes. “But we could stay with Toro. His parents are out of state this month and he keeps complaining he’s lonely. I was planning on spending the week with him anyway, I’m pretty sure he’ll have room for us. He has a big house.”
A frowned creased Tristan’s head as he considered this. “Ok, lets go