Falling for Deceit || WATTYS 2017

51

I walked steadily down the hall from my bedroom where Reina had left me ten minutes ago. Our parting had been brief but full of an emotion I wished that I hadn't felt. Grief. It had almost been as if we both knew that that might be the last time we'd ever speak again, so grief for the ending of our friendship had flowed through soft words. I wanted to feel ridiculous for even thinking that, but I couldn't afford that, not when I was here, walking towards a banquet with the two most powerful mafia families of the East Coast seated on either side. That would be naive. Especially since one of them was my blooded relations. Not family. They would never replace my lost parents and my little brother. Not that I thought that they would get a chance to. I'd likely be dead by then. Because I certainly wouldn't be going with anyone, and I had a feeling that that had been a part of the bargain to bring Piero home. His life in exchange for mine. But I wouldn't leave Daniel without a fight, and it would be a bloody good one. But still, as those thoughts swirled around inside my head, I couldn't help but cling on to the small flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, I would be spared and would remain with Danny. I let out a humorless laugh that rang into the silence of the formal hall. I was nearing the grand staircase.

I passed by a mirror and stopped for a moment, catching my breath that had started picking up its pace with every step closer to the dining hall. I took a deep breath and gave my eyes something to focus on while I quieted down my nerves. The blood-red, sparkling dress clung to my body in tasseled elegance and fell just above my knee, and the black heels wrapped around my ankles and gave me a boost of confidence that translated into my straight back that I had mentally willed myself to keep up. I couldn't slump down under pressure in front of these people. The dress was sleeveless and dipped down, and the thin straps gave way to a ruby-adorned necklace that rested above my breastbone. My lips were painted the same bloody color to match and my eyes were smoked with kohl. My hair was pinned up glamorously, and I felt a sense of déjà-vue. The dress was the same color as the gown that I had worn to the ball that had ended up in a murderous rage, and if I became a target tonight again, it would conceal the stain as effectively as before. Tragic. I lifted my right wrist and gazed at the blue bracelet that had rested against my skin since Danny had given it to me that night of the fire, playing with the end of it pensively. So small a gift yet so comforting in times like these-

"I was just coming to get you." My head snapped up and my shocked eyes landed on Marco who was striding towards me with an air of complete control surrounding his crisply pressed ebony suit. A bulge was clearly visible in the pocket of the slacks that hugged muscular legs, and unless his erection was the size of the Eiffel Tower, he wasn't trying to hide his weapon in the slightest. A display of dominance when the mafia families came together in a clash, I supposed.

"I saved you some energy," I replied calmly, keeping our gazes locked. His flared with heat already, a gentle smoldering that only grew hotter as the seconds ticked by. Then, "Lift up your dress."

I flinched. "I don't think that I heard you right," I replied coolly. "But I hope that you weren't suggesting a last quickie before I might die."

He smirked with amusement and took a step towards me. "Don't be dramatic." Pause. "You aren't going to die."

"Nice to know." I looked at his hand as it slid into the right side of his jacket and came out again, holding a thin blade. "Isn't it ironic that the one time that you slide a dagger into my garter, we ended up on the floor in pools of blood?"

"It would be naive to be weaponless in a mafia house."

"I'm not contradicting you," I said, starting to lift up the bottom of my dress and holding out a hand. Marco's eyes dropped to the gradual exposure of smooth thigh. "I'm simply stating that your handing me a weapon just before a formal dinner doesn't exactly promise a sparkling outcome."