Fatale

A Last Dance

The blindfold is removed once again as I am returned back to my apartment building, rudely ruffling my hair, but I already feel almost pleasantly ruffled by the night's conversation. 

According to Damon, I would be introduced to Marco at a gala tomorrow night at the Rivaldi mansion. It fascinates me that enemies would be willing to dine together, but Damon explains that it's best to keep your enemies closer and well fed with champagne. 

As the elevator drops me at my penthouse once again, I move towards the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of red wine, and carrying it over to my bathroom. Stripping, I settle myself into the large bathtub, my hair falling behind me. 

I hear a buzz next to me as I sip my wine, and grab my phone from the small table next to me. 

Unknown Number: I will have a dress sent to your apartment tomorrow for you to wear to the gala. I'll see you tomorrow, Angel. 

I quickly put down the phone, settling back into the warm water. I let the bubbles caress my skin as I sink down into the water, coming back up covered in it. 

After finishing the glass of wine and the bath, I throw myself onto the bed. 

How did I get myself into this sort of mess? Mafias, money, gangs, guns, mansions. I would be lying if I said the whole thing didn't attract me with its danger. It seems like a dark abyss that you can't help but stare into for fear that if you look away, you'll fall in. 

But part of me wants to fall. 

The buzzer sounds the next evening, and I pad over to the door. 

"Delivery for Miss Ferrero." I hear a female voice call out and I allow them to come up into the penthouse. A small, tan woman walks in with a garment bag and shoe box. She's older, with greying hair and a kind smile. She sets the bag down and steps back out of the penthouse in no time at all, leaving me to stare at the long bag in front of me. 

I hope to god he hasn't given me something skimpy. 

I slowly unzip the bag and hold in a gasp. The dress is long and sleek, black silk embellished with golden lace, a sweetheart neckline. It's breathtaking. 

After carefully straightening my hair until it's deadly slick, I step into the dress. It's eery how perfect it fits my curves. I never even sent him my measurements. He really knows far too much. 

I step in front of my mirror and can't hold back a smile. It hugs my waist and the neckline dips, but not too low to be revealing, just enough to be sultry. I'm absolutely in love with it. I'll have to thank Damon tonight. 

After stepping into the shoes, which give me several inches in height, I appraise my look in the mirror. I look utterly dangerous, unavoidable, and eye catching. Like a flame to a moth. 

I hear my phone ringing and pick it up carefully. 

"Yes, Damon?" I answer too quickly. 

"Miss Ferrero, we're ready for you downstairs." It's the sound of the large man from last night and I gulp lowly. 

Straightening myself out, I give myself a mental pep talk in the mirror before stepping into the elevator. 

The large man is there again, with the same black suit as before. He ushers me to the car and I see the familiar scarred man. 

I hold out my hand for the blindfold and he shakes his head, clearly confused. 

"Mr. Rivaldi said there will be no need for the blindfold."