28

28


The rest of the poker night passed in a blur. After the gunshot, Lissa showed up like the hero as she always does, and ordered a few girls to clean up the blood.

This was usually the job of the guards but they're off duty for the rest of the night and girls who either hates the sight of blood or faint at any contact where asked to do the task. Irritation bubbling through them as they tried not to puke.

A bubble of empty space seemed to form around me also.

Wherever I walked with my tray, men found a reason to look away, to step back, to suddenly be very interested in their cards or their drink.

I was a little bit grateful for the reason, a little bit. Because having Enzo shoot a man for whatever reason only put me in front of all sights, both the good and bad, and that was only going to spoil all my plans. The black bracelet on my wrist might as well have been a live wire.
I saw Lissa cutting through the crowd after the girls were done. Her face like that of someone who just locked her fingers with the door.

Here we go.

She grabbed my elbow, her fingers pinching hard, and steered me into a slightly quieter corner near the archway.

“What did you do?” she hissed.

“I didn’t do anything,” I shot back, trying to pull my arm away. “He grabbed me, the same thing you're doing can you all for a fucking second stop grabbing me like a bag of grocery. I'm doing my fucking job, I don't see where I went wrong with that.”

“I don’t care if he stripped you naked in the middle of the room,” she snarled, her eyes blazing. “Your job is to not cause a scene. Your job is to be invisible. Do you understand? I don’t have the time or the patience to clean up your messes every single time.” She released my arm with a shove. “Now get back to work. And for god’s sake, try not to get anyone else shot.”

She melted back into the crowd, leaving me standing there, my skin crawling with humiliation and rage. I didn't ask for any of this, I didn't ask for the guard’s hands on me, and I certainly didn't ask for Enzo’s ‘savior’ intervention. He's literally everywhere and that's not anyone's fault or a problem up for discussion.

Before I could even move, another hand was on my arm.

At this point I'm just thinking. ‘Is my hand made of gold?’ I'd be disappointed and surprised if it wasn't.

It was one of Moretti's bad headed men, this one has a scar cutting through his eyebrow. “The Don wants you to serve his table,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He led me to the raised platform upstairs where Moretti held court. Enzo was slouched in a chair nearby, swirling his drink, a faint, unreadable smile on his face as I approached.

How the fuck did he get here so fast?

Moretti himself was in the middle of a low conversation with a few of his men. They all fell silent as I was pushed down to kneel beside the table, their collective gaze pressing down on me.

I'd burn this place down if I see the opportunity.

I focused on the crystal decanter, my hands trembling slightly in anger as I poured a measure of amber liquid into his glass first I could feel the heat of his body, smell the faint, clean scent of his cologne mixed with cigar smoke.

I hope he chokes on the drink.

One of the older men with silver in his hair and a face like worn leather, watched me intently. He waited until I finished pouring and was about to retreat.

“You,” He called. “What’s your name?”

I froze, my eyes flicking to Dante for a second. If he wants me to say no word he better let me know now.

“Evadne,” I shrugged internally and replied.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes appraising me slowly, from my hair down to my waist. It wasn’t the hungry look of the other men, this was more clinical, like he was assessing a piece of livestock.

“You’ve caused quite a stir for a new girl,” he mused. Then he glanced at Moretti, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You sure won a prize with this one, Dante. I’ll give you that.”

Moretti didn’t smile. He just lifted the glass I had just poured and took a slow sip, his molten-gold eyes fixed on me over the rim.

I returned back to where I was kneeling, for what felt like an eternity, refilling glasses that were barely touched, trapped in the suffocating space between their power and my powerlessness. The party roared around below us, but at Moretti's table, the only sound was the clink of ice in glasses and the low murmur of their voices, from which I was utterly excluded. It was the air here was some noise cancelling magic.

When the music finally died down by what felt like the middle of the night or two-ish in the morning, and the guests began to stagger out, I was dismissed with a curt nod from Lissa, with a drunk Kylie being dragged by the other girls. The walk back to the dollhouse was the longest of my life. The other girls who were returning fell into step around me.

“Did you have fun?” Someone asked.

I looked at my side, ready to smack the shit out of whoever that idiot is but the face I saw made me sigh.

Nora is an idiot.

Where the fuck is the fun in being paraded like a whore, dressed in revealing clothes, with a shitty bangle determining your worth, the judge of if you'll get fucked by a hundred men or abused by one along with his friends.

“Please, shut up.”

“Oh, come on, you can't tell me you didn't.” She slurred, burping. “Excuse me. I mean you were called to serve boss himself and his people, you were given a fucking black bracelet.” She giggled and I just hoped all this shit she said is an effect from all the alcohol.

“Shut up.” I looked away, sighing.

“Did he fuck you?”

I caught a sudden break and turned to her with a death glare. “Look, I really don't give a shit who the boss is here, the rules we're to follow or who you fucking are to me, but I will fucking fuck you up if you keep being stupid. I know you're a whore but don't fucking drag me into your shitty life, Nora. I have mine and it's fucking enough!! I've fucking had it with you and that bitch okay? You can go to bed fantasizing about his dick but for now, I beg you, drag your disgusting self to the front and find someone else to trouble. Fuck!!”