Chapter 90: Codename: Aconite Chapter Forty

We’re both in the middle of our mains when I notice a familiar face exit the backroom. Suddenly picking Ambrosia feels like a colossally bad idea. What the fuck is Castor doing here?

“Something wrong?” Silas asks with concern. Of course, he noticed a shift in my mood. Maybe Castor won’t notice me.

“Not exactly…” I answer evasively.

It was stupid to hope Castor wouldn’t notice me. His hazel eyes zero in on me from across the room, lighting up as soon as he sees me. He immediately walks over and as he reaches me, he bends down, placing a kiss on my cheek.

“It’s so good to see you, Dasha. I didn’t realise you were still in Greece,” he says with a warm smile as his eyes rake over me, darkening with lust.

“I come and go as usual,” I answer with a polite smile.

Silas clears his throat, making his presence known to an oblivious Castor. Castor glances over at a surprisingly laid-back Silas, his face turning to stone and his posture becoming rigid the second he lays eyes on my date.

“Who is this?” Castor asks in a hard, displeased voice as he continues to size up Silas.

“Castor, this is Silas. Silas, this is Castor, one of my father’s bodyguards,” I casually introduce.

Silas extends his hand to Castor, his face and body looking calm and aloof. I was expecting him to have the same reaction as Castor, but I’m starting to think a relaxed Silas might be more worrisome than a tense Silas. It makes him far more unpredictable. With calculating movements, Castor shakes Silas’s hand, their grips tightening enough for me to observe the veins in their hands begin to bulge through the skin. I want to roll my eyes at this stupid display of testosterone. What the fuck is with men and this behaviour? Might as well just drop their pants and pull out a ruler.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” remarks Castor suspiciously.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” says Silas playfully. “I would love to get to know you better, but we’re in the middle of a date and I’d hate for our octopus to get cold.”

Castor’s eyes flash to me filled with hurt and anger, “You’re dating this guy?”

“Well, we’re on a date, so by definition, yes,” I answer nonchalantly.

I fucking knew he was getting too attached. This is so typical. No one can just be fuck buddies; someone always ends up more invested than the other, and from the look on Castor’s face, it’s him.

“How long has this been going on for?” he asks in an accusatory tone.

I look up at him, taken aback by this sudden change in attitude. “That’s really none of your business,” I answer, my voice sounding soft as silk but my words hard as steel. How many times did I tell him there would never be anything between us? That this was just sex. Yet here he stands acting like a jilted lover.

“Just how exactly did you two meet?” he asks, leaning in with his hand on the back of my seat. What is this, an interrogation?

“Probably when she stabbed me in the gut, and I shot her in the shoulder. Does that sound right?” Silas asks enthusiastically, plopping a cherry tomato in his mouth.

I stare at Silas, managing to keep my jaw in place. Is Silas actually goading Castor into a fight? Is this what Silas does for kicks?

Castor’s head whips to Silas, his hazel eyes swimming with shock and rage. He lunges over, wrapping his hand around Silas’ throat, and shoving him into the cushioning of the booth.

“You’re the kariólis who shot Dasha?” he spits through gritted teeth, vitriol dripping from every word.

Silas remains relaxed, smiling up at Castor as his emerald eyes glint like a deranged madman amused by the voices in his head.

“Remove that hand or say goodbye to your favourite appendage,” Silas warns in a cold voice.

I glance down and see Silas pointing his dinner knife directly at Castor’s dick, the blade glinting in the dim light. I never even saw him grab the knife off the table. Got to hand it to the man, he’s good.

“You think I fucking care?” Castor says in a low whisper. “I will kill you right here, right now.”

Silas presses the blade firmly against Castor’s dick causing Castor’s eye to twitch slightly from the pain.

“I’d like to fucking see you try,” says Silas with a sadistic smile on his face.

I’ve fucking had enough of this.

I raise my hand and snap my fingers, and in a split second, men throughout the restaurant are rising to their feet, guns drawn and pointing in Castor and Silas’ direction causing a silent stillness to blanket the restaurant. Silas blinks in surprise, dropping the routine as he observes all the guns pointed at them. Castor reluctantly pulls his eyes away from Silas to see his Drakos brothers standing against him.

I slowly rise to my feet and smooth out my dress. “If the two of you are done with your little pissing contest, then I think it’s time you leave, Castor.”

Silas smiles victorious, clearly taking this as a win, while Castor’s eyes widen in shock, though he refuses to relinquish his hold on Silas.

“You can’t be fucking serious. This mouní shot you and you’re now having dinner with him?!” he questions in disgust.

“Who I choose to have dinner with is none of your fucking concern, now let him go,” I say in a hard voice, my eyes locked on his.

Castor looks at me carefully, a confident smile slowly creeping upon his face. “You won’t hurt me.”

“I’ve already stabbed and poisoned him. Believe me, I am more than willing to let bullets fly at you both,” I say unbothered.

“Now that I believe,” says Silas in amusement.

“Is everything alright over here?” asks Marios, calmly walking over, his face looking unperturbed but his posture looking like a wild animal ready to pounce.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I say off-handedly, my eyes never leaving Castor.

As we stare at each other, I watch the hurt and disgust grow in intensity in his eyes. Slowly he releases Silas’ neck and steps back, smoothing out his jacket. “You’ve made a huge mistake, Dasha,” he says apathetically, storming past Marios and out of the restaurant.

Slowly the armed men around the room tuck their guns away and sit back down, the sounds of conversation travelling across the room teamed with the bustle of the staff as everything returns to normal.

“This really was a great choice for our first date,” Silas says brightly.

I roll my eyes and turn my attention to Marios. “Mind getting us the check? I seem to have lost my appetite.”

Marios nods, “Of course,” he says, squeezing my shoulder and then walking off.

I look down at Silas, shaking my head in frustration.

“What did I do?” he questions innocently.

This is the second date we’ve been on that has resulted in knives and guns being drawn. Was it really too much to ask for a fucking date that doesn’t end with two people trying to kill each other? Is such a thing even possible when the two people on said date are assassins?