Chapter 30: Codename: Blackheart Chapter Thirty

I spent all day getting dressed up for dinner, and I think it was well worth the effort because I look stunning. A dress seemed too expected, so I went for a gorgeous emerald and gold gemstone design, full-length pantsuit. It has short sleeves, a plunging neckline with a collar and a sash around the waist that helps to accentuate my figure. I have masterfully accessorised with a gorgeous emerald, peridot, and diamond-encrusted necklace with matching earrings. Since I was not blessed with height, I paired this with 6” stilettos that are a beautiful beige to nude ombre. I have my hair up in a stylish and intricate low bun and of course, I did my make-up. I wanted the whole look to have a theme, so I went with gold lids, a subtle smokey eye with dark green corners and a wing, teamed with a simple glossy nude lip.

I even had time to do my nails. I keep my nails short for practical reasons, but I still like them to look pretty from time to time, so I painted them a matt emerald green and did gold leaf designs on my pinkie and ring fingers. I think it brings the whole look together. I look like a woman who is ready to celebrate what might be one of her last nights on earth. Morbid, I know, but what can you do?

As I’m looking myself over in the mirror, I hear a knock at my door. I go to answer the door and have to stop my jaw from ending up on the floor when I see how Alec is dressed. Man scrubs up hella nice! His hair is slicked back with gel and he’s wearing a stunning, black, satin tuxedo, with a white dress shirt and black bow tie. His shoes are so shiny I can see my reflection. I know for a fact he didn’t bring that with him, so where the hell did he get it?

“Your grandfather got it for me. I’m surprised he knew my sizes,” he says, answering my silent question.

“He did well. You look incredible,” I praise.

He grins like a child getting praise from the teacher, “Thanks, but…” he lets out a low whistle as he looks me over. “Nothing compared to you. You look like the whole damn meal,” he says as his pupils dilate.

“You’ve already had your fill of me,” I tease, moving into the hallway and closing my bedroom door behind me.

He slides an arm around me and pulls me flush up against him. “I’ll never have my fill of you,” he says, his words sounding like a vow that has my nerves standing at attention. He plants a soft, tender kiss on my cheek and proceeds to guide me downstairs, which may be for the best because I think I left my brain upstairs.

We enter the dining room to find that the table is laid out with a delicious-looking spread and Mum is going around pouring drinks for everyone. The lights are low, the candles are lit, and it all seems incredibly intimate.

Mum looks like every man’s wet dream in a stunning knee-length, black, latex dress with a flared waist. She’s wearing black high heels with diamond-encrusted straps, putting her legs on full display. Her only accessory is her diamond and amethyst wedding band. Her hair is straight as a pin and her make-up is perfection. She’s gone for a dark smouldering look with a nude matt lip and even did her nails. Mum always has long almond nails, but she’s painted them a lovely glossy nude colour. I have no idea where she found the time to cook all this food and make herself look that amazing. My look took all day. I do, however, know how her night will end though, since every time she bends over to pour a glass, Dad’s eyes are laser-focused on her ass to the point he can’t resist reaching out and touching it. Someone’s getting laid tonight.

Dad is at the head of the table in a very sexy, white jacket suit with black lapels and black lined pockets, a black dress shirt with open buttons and black slacks. Even Dad requires some bling; he’s wearing his diamond-encrusted Rolex watch. I’m pretty used to seeing my parents all dressed up. Grandpa Titus is another story. He looks like he’s ready to buy and sell everything you own. I haven’t seen him this dressed up in ages!

His hair is combed back and he’s in a fabulous, navy blue, three-piece suit. He’s immaculately dressed down to the finest details. From the handkerchief in his pocket to the pocket watch clipped to his vest and tucked into his pocket. I can’t help but feel a little teary-eyed looking at the effort my family has gone to for me. I know it’s morbid to view this as a last supper type of deal, but if this is my last supper then I couldn’t be happier.

“Mum, I can’t believe you did all of this,” I say in awe as I walk over and wrap my arms around her.

“I wasn’t going to settle for anything less than perfect for my girl,” she smiles, hugging me tight.

“For the record, I did help,” Dad chimes in.

“You did?”

“I was in charge of food prep,” he says proudly.

“Nothing like the bare minimum,” Grandpa teases, clapping Dad on the back.

“Thank you all so much for doing this for me, this is… more than I could have asked for,” I smile at them.

“We’re glad you wanted to do this,” Dad smiles, “Now let’s dig in.”

Mum sits on Dad’s right, with Grandpa sitting next to her. I walk over to sit at my dad’s left, and Alec quickly rushes over to pull my chair out for me. My brain temporarily freezes at the gesture as everyone around the table smirks. Jerks.

“Thank you,” I say as I take my seat. Alec smiles and sits next to me.

“A toast,” my dad announces, raising his glass, “To my strong and capable daughter. May tonight be full of love and laughter and a sign of many more nights to come,” he says warmly. I smile at him, hoping the universe makes his words true as we raise and clink our glasses.

We settle in and enjoy the most delicious dinner I’ve had in ages. The conversation is light, the drinks are flowing and for a couple hours, I’m blissfully unaware that my life has an expiration date on it.

“So, Alec, what’s your family like?” Dad asks.

And so concludes our light conversation.

“I don’t really like talking about my family,” says Alec, shifting uncomfortably.

“You know plenty about ours; I’m sure you can tell us something,” Mum encourages.

Alec looks around at everyone but looks at me the longest before taking a breath, “My parents never married. I barely know my father, but what I do know I despise. I have an estranged half-sister who makes you all look like sane, moral people,” he sneers, his hands fisting the cutlery like he about to use them as deadly weapons. I sip my drink to hide my surprise. Well, well. Finally some truth out of this guy. It’s about time. Though he held out longer than I expected.

“Are you saying we have no morals?” asks my dad in a detached voice as he leans back in his chair. Oh boy, here we go.

“You do kill people for a living, so I think that speaks for itself, don’t you?” Alec says snidely, and suddenly it becomes so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“You were part of a plot to kill my daughter, yet you seem to think you’re the morally superior one at the table,” Dad points out, echoing words I once said to Alec. This is like verbal tennis. I wonder how long this rally will last.

“At least I don’t put six-year-olds in a position where they have to kill someone to save their own life,” Alec spits. Mum’s fork hits her plate, Grandpa’s knuckles are turning white, and my eyes are wide with shock that Alec would dare bring that up, let alone use that as evidence that my parents are bad parents. What the actual fuck?

Dad slowly leans forward, every move careful and controlled as he looks at Alec with a cold and murderous expression, “What did you just say?” he asks in a low and threatening voice.

“You heard me. What kind of parents would let that happen to their child?” Alec says in disgust. Seriously, what is wrong with this man’s sense of self-preservation? Come on!

Dad is out of his seat in the blink of an eye and has pulled Alec out of his chair by his collar, landing brutal punches to his formally gorgeous face. While Alec deserves it, I can’t let Dad continue to beat him to a pulp.

“Dad, stop!” I say, getting to my feet and grabbing his arm to stop his assault. “I’ve got this, just breathe and sit down,” I say in an attempt to calm him. Dad’s nostrils are flared, his breathing is laboured, and his eyes are filled with hatred, but within them, I can see the pain. My words barely hold him back, but the moment my mother comes over and wraps her hands around his arm, his body relaxes, and he finally lets Alec go. Alec stumbles back, wiping the blood from his mouth as Dad wraps his arms around Mum and breathes her in like she’s his lifeline. Mum is comforting him, but the anger on her face is more than evident.

“Let’s go,” I say, grabbing Alec by the arm, and leading him outside, away from my trigger-happy parents. As soon as we get outside, Alec shakes me off him and spits a blood-filled wad of spit onto the ground. “What the fuck was that?” I ask incredulously.

“You’re a killer because of the way they raised you. What parents turn their child into a killer?” he snaps, unleashing a level of anger I’ve never seen from him before.

“I have told you; my parents didn’t raise me to be like this, I chose this.”

“Because you didn’t know anything else! You grew up with murderers and people trying to kill you. You were always going to be a killer. You’re crazy if you think you ever had a choice,” he continues to argue.

“How about you stop projecting your own dysfunctional family onto me? You had a shitty upbringing and your family sucks, boo hoo. I’m not going to apologise for growing up with people who love me and give me all the best things in life. If that makes you resentful, that’s your own damage and has nothing to do with me. At the end of the day, family is what you make it and if you hate yours so much then do something about it instead of insulting mine,” I snap back, infuriated by his actions tonight.

“This has nothing to do with my family. I care about you, Heart, and you deserve a better life than this,” he says, angrily gesturing towards the house.

“I am not some damsel you need to rescue, and you’re insane if you think this isn’t about your family,” I scoff.

Alec walks over, towering over me as he gets right up in my face, the edges of his mouth still stained with blood. “You have no idea how much danger you’re in,” he says ominously.

I quirk my eyebrow at him, “Enlighten me then.” We're staring at each other, anger and frustration radiating off him like a nuclear bomb. I step closer bringing us nose to nose as I keep eye contact. “All you have to do is ask for my help and I will give it to you.”

He breathes heavily, his eyes burning into me intently as he thinks over my words with a torn expression on his face, but instead of an answer, he just storms back into the house. That man is gorgeous but damaged as hell, and I think his façade is finally starting to crack. Though much sooner than I expected. As if The Tournament wasn’t enough of a disruption to my plans.