Gangster In A Suit. (Book 1)

Chapter 24

"Just tell me."

"Just go get dressed."

"I'm sick of playing dress up."

Two days have passed since our meet with Daku. Two days of me begging to know what they said.

"This event is important, a party pool of elite investors. It's imperative we make a good impression."

"You say that like I care? It's not like you need me there."

"You're right." He peers at me from over his shoulder. "But Orian insisted."

"What did Daku say?"

"Look." Torin whirls around, checking his watch for the fourth time. With a flattened hand, he taps my chin from underneath. "It's nothing to concern yourself with, neonata."

My cheeks scrunch up. "Baby girl? I think I prefer Miss Moor."

"Whatever you wish, Miss Moor," he purrs. He sends me a wink and spins back around. "I suggest you go. You really don't want to be troublesome when that man is in a foul mood."

I snort. "This is a man that lit a guy on fire because he touched me. I think I learnt my lesson to not underestimate his cruelty."

Torin breaks into a fit of laughter, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"And what's so funny?"

"The fact that you think that was cruel." Chuckling, he shakes his head, morbidly amused. "My dear brother was never the sharing type."

"Then one last question."

He slows to a stop, exhaling excessively.

"Why Katana swords?"

He shrugs thoughtfully. "Orian once said: any boy can pull a trigger, but it takes a man to draw a sword. Something Daku taught him." He meets my eye, a veil falling over his face. "But I've seen the thrill in him, wetting his blade with the blood of many. I think he just likes it. That he wants to get close enough to look into their eyes and watch their soul, slipping from their bodies."

***

A ringed hand offers itself to me.

I take it and Orian gently guides me out. My arm hooks around his. The long trail of the rose-gold, sequins dress follows after me. Long-sleeved with a crewneck and one classic, high slit. Torin and Orian twinning in black custom-tailored suits. We make our way to the ultra-modern skyscraper, ignoring the throng of press and tabloids. This event is held at the apex, rooftop access.

The elevator opens up to a utopia, sky-high lounge. Mega luxurious with an infinity pool and a rounding glass railing, teeming with elegantly dressed people handling an array of curated cocktails. Impressing its specatators with a spectacular three-hundred- and sixty-five-degree view of the dazzling city. 

"How many of these things do you attend?" Permitting the frustration in my voice.

"Barely any." He looks down at me. His eyes inching over my body from top to bottom. "But now I have... inspiration."

On advent, they don't have to do anything. The first-class cluster draws to them. Torin spearheads the conversation whilst Orian stares broodily, suffering through a banal of small talk and brazen business promotion. Exchanging a tirade of toxic masculinity.

"I'm glad I didn't miss this," a man says. Orian and I sharing his look of underlying scrutiny. "I nearly missed it. One of my extensions collapsed, just haemorrhaging profit loss. I was only able to donate thirty million this quarter."