26
26
I spotted Moretti once, standing near the back with Enzo and a few men in dark suits. He wasn’t drinking. I noticed he never really did in front of others. Was he scared of getting poisoned?
It'd be satisfying to see him panicking over something for once. Super satisfying.
His gaze moved lazily over the room, he looked like he was trying to find something even when his gaze looked uninterested. I moved my gaze to a man coming to grab a drink before his found me. The last thing I want is an encounter with him.
For a while he hadn't summoned me after the day I questioned him about my father's said debt. Maybe he felt guilty for his actions.
Who am I kidding?
I didn't really do anything to be here, far away from home, with a dead family. If what he's been saying was true then this is supposed to be my father's sin. Not mine. So I do expect him to fee guilty for being a devil.
A devil I'll kill when I have the opportunity.
“Hey, sweetheart,” one of the guards called out as I passed. His voice was slurred, he raised his hand already reaching toward me. “You don’t have a color. What’s that mean?”
I tried to sidestep, murmuring, “Still waiting to be assigned.”
He smirked, his hand catching my wrist, holding it up so the light hit the bare skin. “No color means no protection, you know that right?”
“My legs works well, I'll kick you in the balls if you don't let go.”
He leaned closer. “You talk big for someone who's going to get railed by the stairs and on the table like a little slut.”
His breath smelled of whiskey and cigarette and it took everything in me not to react too fast and punch the alcohol out of him. “You're stepping out of line now.”
He grinned wider. “Who’s gonna punish me, huh? You?”
I tugged my hand, but his grip tightened.
All I want was to finish up whatever rounds of drinks and get this over with woohoo drawing attention to myself especially with so many people around. But before I could think of what to do, another voice cut through his. “Hands off.”
The guard froze. I turned, and there he was.
I didn't know hating a stranger more than your enemy was a thing until I found out about Enzo's existence.
He wasn’t smiling this time, and I appreciated that. The easy charm from the night he’d saved me was gone, replaced by colder look. He stepped closer until his shadow fell over both of us. “She’s not for you.”
The guard dropped my wrist like it burned him. “Didn’t know, boss. She’s got no—”
Enzo didn’t even glance at him. “You should start learning to ask before you touch. Unless you want to lose that hand, boy.”
The guard muttered an apology and slunk away.
Enzo’s gaze slid back to me. “You really do have the worst luck, pumpkin.”
“I didn’t ask you to interfere,” I muttered. “His balls was calling for my attention. But thanks no thanks.”
He's literally everyway like there are cameras on me every single corner of the estate.
He chuckled, taking a sip from his glass. “The poor balls did nothing.”
I rolled my eyes, stepping away, but he caught my arm—gently, and raised a brow. “No bracelet?”
I shook my head.
He hummed, his thumb brushing over the inside of my wrist. “That’s dangerous pumpkin. You could get—.”
“—get railed by the stairs and on the table like a little slut, yeah, I figured.”
He smiled faintly. “Stay near the gold ones, Evadne. They won’t dare touch you if they think Dante might care.”
“I think you're mistaken but the last thing I want is that bastard's care. And if he does, which I'm pretty sure he doesn't, then I really don't care. He's ruined my life enough with his caring”
He chuckled and grabbed a glass from my tray, he leaned closer, voice low enough that only I could hear. “You keep walking around like you’re not part of this world, and one day, it’s going to bite you in the throat. Be careful the things you say about Dante, pumpkin, I didn't snap your head off doesn't mean nobody will.” He released me and melted back into the crowd.
Asshole.
The Morettis are just a bunch of dick sucking assholes that's going to catch karma's attention sooner or later.
For the next hour, I poured drinks, dodged wandering hands, and tried to look invisible until whenever this party ends. The room felt smaller with every minute, heat and music pressing in from all sides. Their joy over a fucking card game rising over the roof and even drowning the music and whoever it was crying behind the stairs.
The music was lowered after an hour and whatever that meant made the crowd erupted in joy as they clinked glasses.
From the upper balcony, Moretti stepped into view in his black suit, and everyone looked up at him like he was some divine being.
You'd never tell me he isn't doing this to feel so high, so mighty. His ego busting around his head. I wouldn't be surprised if this was one his kink.
He lifted a glass and said something I barely heard about loyalty, about strength, and the familiar. The men roared in response, raising their drinks and while even cheered and blinked their glasses his gaze drifted over the room and paused on me.
Oh, I wish I had a gun.
It lasted maybe a second. Two, at most. But it was enough to drag out all the hatred buried below.
Lissa appeared out of nowhere and grabbed my arm just as the crowd resumed their activities but now with low music. “Why the hell don’t you have a bracelet?”
“Bitch fuck off!” I dragged my arm away, glaring at her.
She stared at me for a second and rolled her eyes. “Never mind.” She snapped her fingers at one of the guards, who handed her a small black one. “Put this on. Now.”
I handed my tray to one of the passing dolls and grabbed the bracelet. The cool silk slid around my wrist like a shackle.
“Stay out of sight,” she hissed. “If he sees you again without it, I’ll have your tongue cut out.”
Then she was gone, disappearing into the swarm of bodies.
I wish I had a fucking gun!!!
A shotgun preferably.
How easy it would be to put a wide gaping hole in the back of her head. I don't care if I get stoned to death afterwards as long as she's dead, for good.
Karma can have Moretti.
I grabbed another tray and resumed my fucking disgusting shift.