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"Thank you for saving me from that dance," Jasmine whispers, her voice soft against the gentle rustle of leaves. "Lucky the lights went out when they did."
"Saving" might be an exaggeration, but I don't mind being her hero – even if it's just for a moment. I don't tell her because I see no point to it, but I orchestrated the blackout.
I imagine if I tell her, she'd be forced to thank me for one more thing she doesn't need to thank me for. Since when did this world evolve to express gratitude for basic human decency?
My grip on her hand tightens as a sudden wave of anger washes over me. What would have happened had I not been there to step in? "You need to be more careful, Jasmine. Don't trust everyone who comes into your world. Tonight could have ended very badly."
She pauses, staring at me with wide, innocent eyes before breaking into a playful grin. "Aww, do you care about me, Dario?"
I grumble under my breath, trying to mask my embarrassment. "That's not the point," I mutter, avoiding her gaze, trying not to answer her question. But it's hard to keep up this facade when all I want to do is kiss her and never let her go.
Jasmine allows me a moment of silence, giving me time to gather my thoughts. It's unsettling how easily she can get under my skin, and I need to know more about her.
The memories of my research on her after the accident at the race flash through my mind – the car customization workshop, the races she participates in.
"Tell me," I say, my voice determined as I turn to face her. "What are you really doing here at this masquerade? You come from an entirely different world. Don't you run a car customization workshop?"
Her eyes widen in surprise, but then her lips curve into a teasing smile. "So, you've looked into my background." Jasmine's voice is soft, almost seductive. "I'm flattered. And yes, I do come from a different world. I run a workshop that makes custom cars and race in my free time."
"Then why are you here?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, even though my heart quickens with every beat. I can keep her safe from Frank, but keeping her safe from the mafia won’t be as easy as faking a power failure.
I need to be honest with her, so she knows what she’s getting involved in. "Why involve yourself in all this danger? You do know we're the mafia, don't you?"
"You think I don't belong here?" she asks, raising an eyebrow playfully. "You think street racing is what? Safe?"
I struggle to find the right words because despite all logic, I want her here with me. "That's not what I meant. I just—"
A sudden gust of wind rustles the leaves of the hedges that surround us, and I can't help but notice the way it lifts Jasmine's hair, framing her face like a halo.
The labyrinth seems alive with energy as if it could sense the attraction between us – an attraction that grows stronger with every passing moment.
"Tell me something about yourself, Dario," Jasmine says, her voice teasing, and yet sincere. "I've shared a bit about my world; it's only fair you do the same."
I scoff at her audacity but find myself drawn to her all the same. "What do you want to know? I'm an open book," I say, although I know that couldn't be further from the truth.
"Really?" she asks, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling there's more to you than meets the eye?"
"Maybe because there is," I admit, unable to resist the urge to share more about myself with her. "But that doesn't mean I'm not an open book."
As we navigate through the shadowy maze of hedges and statues, our conversation flows effortlessly, each topic weaving seamlessly into the next.
"So racing, huh?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation light as we pass a marble statue of Venus, goddess of love, which seems to watch us with knowing eyes. "Ever thought of joining the big leagues?"
"Maybe one day," she says with a shrug. "But for now, I'm content with the thrill of the race and the satisfaction of running my own workshop."
"Sounds like you've got it all figured out," I say, feeling a surprising pang of envy. In our world, things are never that straightforward. Jasmine's world – her freedom – is something I can't help but covet.
"Don't let appearances fool you," she replies, her voice softening. "My life isn't perfect either, but I've learned to make the best of it."
"Your resilience is admirable, Jasmine," I say, genuinely impressed. "Sei una combattente, e questo è qualcosa che posso rispettare." – You're a fighter, and that's something I can respect.
"Grazie, Dario," she says, her eyes meeting mine, crinkling in the corners. She then breaks into a small smile, and it feels like the warmth of the sun is radiating right off her.
"Jasmine," I ask at last, seeking to feed my curiosity before this thing goes any further because I fear that a few more seconds with her, and I'll have no self-control around her, seeking her into my arms if she'll have me.
"How did you find yourself at this masquerade? You said you come from a different world. It's not every day someone like you ends up in a place like this." I look into her eyes, searching for a hint of truth.
She hesitates for a moment, her gaze darting away from mine as she bites her lip. "Well, um, I was... I was looking to thank you. Some people at the race knew you and later mentioned this masquerade. I realized I never expressed the gratitude you deserved. Without you, I would have died that day. So, I just came."
