Snapping Point

22

Regardless of my reluctance, I had to take a few seconds to study her. Her hair was now a deep, straight black, and she seemed to have lost weight. Her honey-colored eyes remained alluringly inscrutable, as always.

As a matter of fact, I had spotted her at the club yesterday. It wasn't a hallucination, as I had initially thought. Clearly, she was on the run, judging by her appearance. New hairdo, perhaps a new personality too.

But why return here, pretending as if she had no clue who owned the place? It didn't add up.

"What?" Ottavio's voice came from behind me, Rough as a serrated knife. "You?"

"Yeah, me. Got something else to say, tough guy?"

Damn it, her tone cut deeper now. Her eyes burned with a different kind of fire. If there was ever a day met a person with a split personality, it was today when I realized I'd been dealing with a two-faced bitch all along.

She was nothing like the sweet butterfly that refused to fly around my apartment. She'd been replaced by a whole new broad—a temperamental bat, so to say. The message of this girl from the whore at the bordello finally made sense. Even the way she now popped her chewing gum grated on my nerves and the last shreds of my patience. Gone was the finesse; now it was all arrogance.

I felt like a chump, torn between confusion and anger at myself for getting played so easily, for falling for soft eyes and a feather voice. Where were they at this moment? Now here I was, staring down the barrel of reality, no longer fooled by the act she'd put on, and all I could muster was a curse under my breath.

I couldn't tell if she was pushing the boundaries of our deal or just testing my patience. But her sudden appearance meant I had the upper hand now. "Breaking our agreement, huh?"

"I heard you've been hunting me down, Romano." Her arrogance oozed from every pore, dripping with disdain and a whole lot of other unsavory traits. "What? Trying to play it cool like you haven't been tearing the town apart looking for me?"

Ottavio knew this conversation couldn't continue with Verde here; it would jeopardized my fucking head if the depth of this got the triad, and Verde had a knack for reporting directly to them, irrespective of whether it would make us look incompetent.

He shot a glance at Verde and gave a subtle nod toward the exit. "We'll handle it from here. Shove off."

Verde hesitated for a moment, trying to decipher the need for privacy. But when I mirrored Ottavio's serious expression, he got the message and hightailed it out of there. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, drowned out only by the obnoxious pop of the dame's gum.

With just few of us left, I grabbed Xenia by the arm and hoisted her up against the wall. She was securely bound, unable to resist my movements. Even if she tried, my hold would never give room for a fight.

When I snaked my palm around her neck threateningly, the feel lacked the usual intensity. The touch felt wrong, empty of the usual burn. Normally, when she touched me, there was a kind of provocation that made me panic slightly, a kind of blaze. It would normally last for seconds, progressively getting worse, but now there was nothing but disgust churning in my gut. So why had I chosen to damn myself for something that couldn't even stand the test of time and trials?

"I'm disappointed," I spat out, unable to contain my tongue and disgust. "Coming out here trying to act tough. I'll crush you under my fucking fingers."