A certain tension falls over the car as we pull into the dark road behind the large venue, a siffocating mixture of lust and uneasiness taking control of the atmosphere, thick between us.
The driver swiftly steps out of the car to open the door for me, but I beat him to it, swinging the heavy metal open and letting the cool autumn breeze whip around the car and in my hair. I enter through the back door, leaving to the area behind the staircase that decends into the ball room.
Luca and I separate ways, as he slyly enters the ballroom already full of guests, remaining anonymous. No one other than the Vipers could know he is in America, let alone in this ballroom. The problem with these egotistical gangs is that once they get their hands on important information, they never want to share. Therefore, Luca's prescence remains a secret.
I make my way down the tacky hallway, the blindingly bright red carpet with gold trim obnoxiously fluorescent against my heels. I walk up a set of equally poorly designed steps, before reaching my family in front of the staircase entrance.
My father is barely dressed up, sporting a silk black suit and some fangs that are much too large for his mouth.
Even from up here, I can hear the loud bustling from the large crowd. All high-ranking mafias in America come to attend, allowing me to be shown as the mysterious King daughter, due to the fact that they all know what I look like already. Although I was able to stray from the paparazzi, thank God.
Rumors may get around, many of which are in fact true. Except the one that I eat babies to make myself stronger. I'm not sure where that one came from but I'm 99.9% sure it was Blake's doing.
People remain curious as to who I am, but I can never be shown like that.
He could find me.
"Ready to go?" My father's booming voice sounds from next to me. I look to my right and up a little, giving him a curt nod before he motions for Blake to join us.
Blake and I stand on either side of my father as we prepare ourselves to exit onto the staircase. My dad places his hands on our backs, motioning for us to follow him down.
We obey, but I almost cringe at the fact that I'm dramatically walking down a staircase like in one of those stereotypical galas. All we're missing is trumpets and an announcer.
People seem to be made very aware of our descending prescence, as all of their eyes land on us, and more specifically me.
I hold my chin up high and keep my face stoic as I carefully strut down the stairs, searching for someone's gray eyes in particular. When I meet them, they're already boring into me intensely, raking my body once more.
I feel my body ignite and feel a flush make its way to the surface of my skin. He looks back up and gives me a short nod, a gesture speaking so many words.
I pull my gaze from his eyes and scan the crowd, feeling all eyes on me. Finally reaching the bottom of the never-ending abyss that is that staircase, the three of us break away from each other, as I make my way to the bar.
Clementine texted me saying she would be a little late, which is kind of odd because she's always loved these things. She might just be sick though.
I make my way to the dark wood counter, knocking on it lightly to gain the attention of the bartender. He jumps slightly and his flustered expression quickly becomes one of terror when he sets his eyes on me.
I roll my eyes. "I'm not that scary." I scoff, but his face doesn't change. I glare at him, probably not helping to prove my point. "Zombie." I order, needing a cocktail.
He stays frozen for a second before my words seem to register and he shakily makes my drink. I lean on the counter while waiting for it, eyeing the multitude of alchohol bottles behind him in boredom.
At the same time that the bartender places my drink on the table, I feel someone's presences next to me. Refusing to give anyone much attention, I take the drink to my lips and begin to sip it. After a few minutes of him blatantly staring at me, I give him a side-eye and huff in annoyance. I fully turn to him now with an irritated look, recognizing the little prick as Adrien, our hacker. "Can I help you?" I question.
He seems surprised by the fact that I caught him, but quickly recovers with a condescending smirk. I resist the urge roundhouse kick him.
"I was wondering if you wanted to dance with me, baby." He says, lowering his voice an octave in an attempt to sound sexy.
I look him up and down in a disgusted manner, resisting the urge to smirk once I see the offended scowl on his face. "I'm afraid being that close to you would get me dirty, baby." I retort, placing the drink down and walking away from the counter, passing my father and mumbling a small 'bathroom' to inform him of my whereabouts.
I'm on my way to the ladies room in attempt to calm down, when a big arm comes and wraps around my waist, pulling me into a dark closet. I'm about to scream, but my attempts come out muffled with a large hand clasped over my mouth. I'm about to fight back out of the person's impossibly tight grip, but as I begin to recognize the familiar cologne of Luca, I still.
"I don't know how you expect me to keep my hands off of you in this dress." He whispers huskily against my neck, my back pulled flush against his chest. He doesn't let me respond, just grips my waist tighter and spins me around, before finally smashing his lips onto my own. I let out a small whimper of pleasure and grip his collar to pull him closer.
His large hands wrap around my smaller frame, gripping my hips to pull me closer. I take my hands and run them under his shirt, sliding up his broad and muscular torso, drawing the contours of his defined abdomen.
He straightens himself, bringing me up along with him, allowing me to feel how hard he is against my thigh.
Before I can act on it, a loud sound rings through my ears, causing us to break apart.
Gun shots.
I maneuver myself so I'm facing right next to the door frame, swiftly hoisting my dress up and pulling my gun out of the sturdy garter. I watch Luca pull two out of his waistband, sending me a smirk to show me his pride in the fact that he's more prepared than I. I roll my eyes and motion for him to take place at the other side of the door, across from me.
I carefully reach for the nob, now noticing the sound of gunshots has completely stilled. I halt in my tracks and turn towards Luca.
"Stay in there." I decide, trying to put the pieces together in my mind all while simultaneously devising a plan.
However, Luca stays grounded in front of me, still hidden from everyone else.
"Luca," I hiss. "Stay. In. There." I order warningly.
"I am not leaving you alone out there." He retorts stubbornly, mimicking same warning in his own expression.
I roll my eyes and sigh angrily. "You need to trust me right now." I push, quirking an eyebrow and hoping for a submission.
"I'll wait here." He grits out unhappily.
It's a compromise I guess.
I nod and make my way out to the main hall. Of course no one ran away, except maybe a few dates, due to the fact that this is a ball full of people who reign the mafia.
In the middle of the floor, lay around 30 dead bodies, all in similar attire as each other. No more gunshots go off, and everyone stays frozen in their place, calculating.
I lock eyes with my brother and march over to him. "What happened?" I interrogate.
He shrugs, his face showing me he knows just as little as I do. "I don't know. They just came here and started attacking." He admits. I have my gun hidden behind my back, thankfully, because to the right of my brother is a lean man, his skin a shade darker than his dark brown suit and his eyes frantically looking around. He nervously ruffles his tightly curled hair, before his eyes land on me.
I grin while looking between the two of them, "You must be Miles." I introduce, sticking my free hand out for him shake, the grin still on my face.
He looks down at me, his face a little calmer than before. "I am." He admits, giving me a questioning look to ask for my name in return.
"Ivy." I smile, shaking his hand. Surprisingly, he doesn't seem curious at all.
"I should probably get Miles home. You'll handle the police statements for us, right?" Blake asks me, showing me that Miles doesn't know about the mafia business yet and that he wants me to deal with the whole police aspect.
I plaster on a fake warm smile. "Sure." I confirm,watching the two of them exit the building.
I turn back around and find that the majority of the crowd is looking at me for what I'll do next. Some people are back to dancing, unfazed by the current events.
I make my way over to the array of bodies, surveying them to see if they're visibly breathing. I catch sight of a few heaving chests, making my way over to the one closest to me.
I know he is awake, but pretending to be dead. My heels click along the tile flooring, before I squat down and place my gun to his head. His eyes snap open and dart up to his forehead, where the cool metal lays.
"Who are you?" I demand. When he doesn't answer I take the gun and blow his knee cap out. He wails out in pain, the blood from the wound adding to his other injuries.
I draw the gun back up his legs and chest, smirking as I watch his eyes follow it closely, before it reaches its previous spot. "Do you wanna play the hard way, or the easy way?" I ask tauntingly. He remains silent and I begin to draw the gun back to his other knee cap in response. I eye him while slowly placing my index finger on the trigger, watching as he takes a large gulp and sweat begins to drip off his face.
Suddenly, he snaps. "Okay, okay! I'll tell you!" He breaths out, pleading. "I'm a- uh- I'm a Viper." He responds.
I rip open his shirt to look for the familiar marking, and when I can't find one, I quickly take my gun and shoot him in the head. I hate liars. "Useless." I grumble to myself, standing up and swiping some of the blood of my dress.
Ugh. This dress was cute.
As I look up, I see everyone eyeing me. My glare makes the majority of them look away, while some just can't handle the sight at my feet. I catch men with the most dangerous reputations on earth cowering away from me.
I go to look for those breathing chests I saw earlier, but they all died out. Shit.
By now everyone is back to their normal selves, enjoying the gala as if nothing happened. I sigh frustratedly and rip open all their shirts to examine them for any distinct marking or tattoo. Choosing not to strip them completely, especially in public, I look for my group of cleaning men and nod to the mess.
They all seem to understand my signal, as they begin walking towards the bodies and motion for their colleagues to come and help. I sigh to myself and walk away and towards my dad. To a blind eye, he appears unaffected by the situation, but I notice the slight crease in between his brows that show me he is aware of the risks at hand. I join him and his friend, who I recognize as Zane Zettuci.
Zane has been a family friend forever, being the best arms dealer globally. Despite the fact that the man is gorgeous, he's practically like a brother to me so that would never happen.
He's Italian, although he spends a lot of time here in America for deals and business in general.
Many men bring dates to these things to show off, in love or not, but Zane never has. He says he believes that love is just a burden in this life, and I can't help but agree.
Granted, he does not let this prevent him indulging in... other intimacies with women.
"Melanie!" Zane greets cheekily, using my middle name. I glare, I hate my middle name, but return the hug when he reaches in for one.
While in the hug, I suddenly catch Luca, shooting daggers at the back of Zane's head with his heated glare.
The fuck?
He catches my eye and I give him a look of confusion, before he just clenches his jaw and looks away, walking towards the bar. Okay then.
"Where Marie?" Zane asks, referring to my mother, although she's practically his own. Zane's parents are real assholes and our family practically raised him.
"She felt sick. I'm here in her place." I lie, not wanting to admit anything else in public.
I lower back down from the embrace and walk back to my dad's side. I turn slightly towards Zane, "Can I borrow him for a second?" I ask, gesturing to my father.
"Of course." Zane nods, and my father moves to walk in front of me and lead us somewhere more private. On my way to follow him, Zane presses a hand on my stomach to halt and I catch his smirk before he leans down to whisper to me. "Your man has been glaring at us this entire time. Good job getting Luca Laurent." He winks at me, and I'm quite honestly surprised he's been able to detect that, his back was to Luca the entire time. Even more so how he recognized Luca, but I soon realize it's because he's Italian as well.
Sure enough, when I look over Zane's shoulder, I catch Luca watching again. He now has a whiskey in hand, and it looks about .2 seconds away from shattering in Luca's violent grip.
I look back to Zane and he seems to comprehend my unspoken questions. "I've worked with his father before." He explains. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone he's here." He tells me, sending yet another friendly wink my way.
I scoff playfully and walk away from him, sending a small playfully flirty wave his way. Judging by the look on Luca's face though, he didn't register its playfullness.
I rush over to my dad and fall back into step with him.
"What's our next move?" I ask him once we're in a secluded place.
"We have to look more into this tomorrow. Their bodies are covered in way too much blood to find any markings, but from what we can see." He begins. "There are none." He admits.
I sigh stressfully, running a hand over my face. They're all dead so all we have left are their markings. I can only hope whoever sent them is an amateur and hasn't covered them up.
Wait.
"Did anyone come to the house, Dad?" I ask suddenly, almost completely forgetting about the plan.
By the proud glint that sparkles in my father's eyes for a second, I can tell at least one part of my plan worked.
"They attacked, you were right." He says happily. His smile falter after a few moments and I can tell there's something else. Sure enough, "They don't have any marking either." He admits.
Shit.
I nod. I have to tell Luca.
"Okay. I'm gonna go tell Luca." I sigh stressfully and defeatedly, walking out and into the ballroom.
I scan over the crowd before my eyes land on Luca, a girl shamelessly flirting with him.
Something takes over in me as I stalk towards him, making myself even more intimidating as I take my place standing next to Luca. I face the girl sternly, and she looks at me, smirking.
She's very short, twirling a strand of her black hair in her fingers and looking at Luca seductively before she looks at me, a mix of annoyed and cocky. "And you are?" She asks me rudely, clearly not seeing the blood splattered on my dress in the dark lighting of this area, or seeing my face for that matter.
"Ivy King." I bite back, smirking as I watch her chest rise and fall rapidly and her eyes to widen.
"S-sorry." She replies meekly, scurrying away as my eyes stay trained on her retreating body, my glare still persistent.
"I need to talk to you." I tell Luca, my eyes snapping to his once I can't trail her with my eyes anymore.
Luca gives a curt nod, seeming almost as angry as me. What?
The guests begin filing out and I soon realize that the night is almost over, meaning it's around 11pm. I motion for Luca to follow me to the back road and the car.
We slip into the backseat, which is completely blocked off from the driver's for mafia business.
I fling the door open while Luca walks over to the other side. I slip onto the black leather seat and put my seatbelt on while Luca enters the neighbouring seat.
I cross my arms, the anger from a few moments ago still simmering down.
"The people that attacked today had no markings as far as we know. We'll find out more tomorrow." I tell him, he gives a curt nod in response. "They did attack at the house tonight." I begin, and Luca straightens at this statement. "They have no markings either. Again, we'll know more tomorrow." I explain, barely stifling a yawn but not wanting to go to sleep, feeling so defeated. We don't speak anymore than that, an undefined tension in the air.
The traffic is slow and long, the once 45-minute drive doubling. The exhaustion almost unbearable after half an hour, as my eyes drift heavily, eventually falling asleep. I shuffle multiple times in my various uncomfortable positions, drifting in and out of sleep. After letting out a small grunt of frustration, I hear a seatbelt being unclicked before being lifted into someone's arms and placed on a lap.
Immediately recognizing Luca's scent and feel, I adjust myself slightly, his arms wrapping firmly against me as I melt into him.
Normally, I have no dreams. I suffer from nightmares of him occasionally, but mostly my nights are void of anything. But whenever I sleep even near Luca, I dream.
And it absolutely scares the shit out of me.