Vicious Saints [18+]

017: Between gold and silver

|Alysanne Valentine|

Azarov annihilated me and surely the ending isn't what you would expect. Those innocent small gestures he displayed made me feel warm and surprisingly protected, his reassurance in the limo made my heart leap into my throat. Those three words were filled with promise and determination that it made my chest constrict from the overwhelming emotions flooding me. Coming from Azarov, a man who chooses his words wisely it made me trust that promise in a way I would never do for others.

The meeting was scheduled and I wasnt particularly invested in it since Azarov's safety is my priority. A deal pertaining to the future endeavours of Azarov and Carter which didn't require the presence of Diavolo and Isadora.

However, my best friend had been hiding something from me. She had something up her sleeve and I couldn't figure out what it was. That was the least of my problems. The times that I have been around Azarov, he never interacted with women that weren't involved with the family— to my knowledge anyway. I never appreciated the rellef I felt during those times because even if he sort out to sedate his desires elsewhere, I was glad he didn't flaunt the women in my face. It was a fantasy to believe that men would be celibate and Azarov with his God-like appearance, sculptured -to perfection body masked by his sinful dark suits is mouth-watering and downright dangerous.

He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my entire existence. God played favourites when he was creating us and his is Azarov. A fraction of my jealousy mind pretends that his sex life is non-existent because the thought is nauseating.

I prided myself on self-control, it came rather easy to me since my Uncle is always calm that it's borderline terrifying. Anger wasn't a part of my vocabulary until that night when I had to suffer through gorgeous women dressed in fabulous lingerie dance on him, touch him. Mind-numbing rage devoured my insides, eating away at my flesh. I felt it shake my bones and cause this insatiable itch to kill. I was livid and Azarov was calm and collected. He never physically reacted to their touches but I did with fierce annoyance. His maple syrup orbs darkened when they connected with my own, they were filled with hunger and desire. I couldn't concentrate, fuming over them touching what is mine.

WAIT, WHAT?!

Nope.

Fuck it.

He's mine!

I was way beyond the point of sane anger.
Mine is bitter jealousy. Neither would I apologise about how territorial it sounded because Azarov didn't seem bothered by the sight of me watching these women touch him in places I wanted to. Azarov challenged my temper and restraint, when the glass shattered in my hand I recognised that I was going to blow this roof off if I didn't leave. Call me petty but he needed to feel what I felt. I wanted to provoke him regardless if It seemed childish. Pulling two random guys from the crowd to dance with me, they probably introduced themselves but I didn't care.

Clearing my mind and focusing on replacing there touch with Azarov was the only way I could stomach there body against my own. Even if I had a strong urge to bleach my skin after this.

It's like a sixth sense— being able to pinpoint the exact moment his eyes meet my body. No matter the distance it still evoked goosebumps and automatically a thrilling sensation would swarm through me. I couldn't predict that he would abandon all logic from his composed mind and throw me over his shoulder like a madden beast.

And I couldn't deny that I found it insanely sexy. Azarov snapped, acting irrationally as he trapped us in the elevator and I couldn't control the ache that only surfaced when it came to him. Usually dominance from anyone would rekindle those horrors of the past but with Azarov, I felt comfortable and it frightened me that he had the power to rid the demons of my past. His calm personality is shaken with this beast fuelled with frustration and I loved it, he needed to taste the bitterness of jealousy the same way I did.