"And what of their lives? They are innocent people? You are keeping me out because you don't want me to be killed. The same applies to them. They are just here to earn and wage and go on with their lives. I can't play with their safety," I ground out. I was not going to let him win in that argument.
"I don't care about their lives," he growled. "I only give a damn about what happens to you."
"You're a bloody hypocrite. What happened to acting professionally? I am being professional. You are being a selfish asshole by putting them in danger." He looked stricken as the words sunk in. "I know how you feel," I took a step towards him. He fisted his hair as he saw me approach. Warily, he let me take his hand. "You care about me. You want me safe. I understand," my voice was a balm to sores and aches. "But you have to let me fight my own battles. I have a lot to prove. I am not fragile. We both know that. Let me take care of myself. Let me take care of you... enjoy..."
"I promise you that I will kill any of those morons who try to touch you. I'll finish Luke if he tries to take you."
"Your protective alpha side is arousing, but irritating, too. Go put up pretences before they get suspicious." He nodded. He stopped as he was leaving and turned back.
"I will say a lot of things tonight. Do not listen to a word... I love you. Remember that."
I knew that he had to seem indifferent. I had slowly become his weakness, and he would be wise not to show it off in front of his enemies.
.
The next time I entered the VIP area, I heard them discussing some rogue who was making a name for himself in Asia. I quickly went about serving the drinks and picking up empty glasses.
For most of the night, it turned into a comfortable routine. I heard secrets that I hadn't known. I got the names of enemies and allies.
"Speaking of rats. I hear you did away with Scott."
"Rats are fun to have around, but they get greedy and messy once you let them be." I saw Anthony shrug nonchalantly.
"And that partner of yours? The one that replaced Scott? What of her? Is she any good?" Darcy asked, sounding offended.
"Easy there, Luke. I know that Bashov was a personal favorite of yours, but you don't need to get so fired up about something so trivial. We took what was ours fair and square. We even gave you a warning before we came."
"That you did. I appreciate that girl of yours, though. I hear she took down a lot of my men singlehanded." He sounded intrigued. I saw Anthony glance at me for a second. I looked around once, myself; just to be sure that no one had seen him do it. The man in the Black Death mask had his eyes trained on me. There was a distinct possibility that he had seen Anthony's slip.
Fucking idiot.
"She must be a damned good lay, then," the man said, his eyes moving from me to Anthony. It was a familiar voice, but I couldn't point out where I had heard it.
Anthony turned to him and his lips curled into a relaxed smile.
"She could be Satan if we are talking about the damned." I held back a scoff as I went towards him to pick up his empty glass.
"A scotch," Anthony told me gruffly.
"Babe," someone called out as I started to move towards the door. I turned around, anyways, realizing that the indignant man was referring to me. "Come here." He gave him a huge grin that made me question his intentions.
"Yes, sir?" I asked sweetly.
"What's your name, sweet girl?" I kept my face straight, but I could feel the tension in the room rising. He leaned over the couch he was sitting in and grabbed my free hand. I had the most incredible need to smash a glass into his face as he smirked at me.
"I'm sorry, but I have rounds to make," I told him politely, doing nothing to free my hand. Maybe speaking politely would throw him off and make him let go of my hand. I didn't want to piss off any of Anthony's associates. Not when it was my responsibility as the hostess to take good care of them.
"She is not allowed to say her name," I heard Anthony growl.
"Anthony, you always keep the pretty ones to yourself. Let me have this one. You already have one hellcat sucking your cock every night." With that, he tugged on my limp hand, catching me off guard. I tripped over, the tray slipping from my fingers. I bent forward to catch it before it fell, but the tug turned into a furious pull. I fell backwards, landing on the arm of the sofa next to the man.
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