I give her a dark smile. “I am home,” I say, drinking, looking anywhere but at her because there’s a part of me that wants to tear her clothes off, hold her face down in the long grass, and fuck her until she runs out of fucking air.
“Something is going down tonight, isn’t it?” Her words rip me out of my little dark fantasy.
This is what she does to me.
I’ve become my fucking brother.
She’s standing to my side, watching everyone like I am. I can guarantee she’s noting the fuckers here, the ones to watch out for, mentally taking down their weaknesses. She’d make an excellent wife in this life. As long as she didn’t accidentally (or purposely) fucking kill me.
“How very astute. Is that the trained assassin in you or are you just a nosy bitch?” I say, acidly, not looking at her.
I feel her eyes on me, burning me to the ground with her contempt. “I may deserve everything you say to me after what I did to you, But I am sorry for what I did,” she says, sounding not sorry at all.
She doesn’t have a fucking clue.
At that moment, Marco spots me. Out of all of my uncles, he’s the fucking worst. I caught him yesterday trying to rape Sorrow in her room. I very nearly killed him. I should have done. His eyes are on Viola immediately. If he, in any way, thinks she’s mine, he’ll try and take her from me.
She’s not yours anymore.
“You should go,” I say to Viola.
Marco comes up to me and kisses me on both cheeks. He’s playing for the audience, I know the bastard hates me. He was a firm fan of my brother and his methods. I know Marco thinks am a pussy and will try something soon. I can tell by the way he looks at me and talks to me.
It’s disrespectful.
His greedy eyes are still latched on to Viola. “And who is this?”
“Oh just some whore, forget about her,” I say dismissively. “Come on, let’s go inside where we can talk.” I need to get the bastard away from her. He doesn’t move though, he stops, devouring her with his fucking pissholes for eyes. “Some tasty fucking whore,” he says as he puts his arm around her.
Viola’s eyes connect with mine. Her goddamn accusing look is all it takes.
I see fucking red.
Red like the dice in my pocket.I roll them in my fists as I take them out, feeling the hard edges, and then look down.
Six and a three.
I win.
All the hurt, anger, and despair shuts off. “I told you to forget to fucking about her,” I say, feeling void of any emotion as I calmly place my empty glass on a passing tray, and reach inside my jacket to take out my gun. I aim at Marco’s head and pull the trigger. Funny that only when I’m killing, does the shaking and pain subside.
There’s silence while I put my gun away. Everyone is fucking looking at me. Even Viola. “What the fuck are you looking at? Go back to what you were doing, drinking my fucking expensive champagne and getting wasted,” I snap.
They do, quickly.
I’ve begun to earn a reputation for being a cunt, and a little crazy after my brother died. It’s not a rumor I try to discourage. I can’t be weak, not with my family.
And certainly not with fucking Viola in my bed.
Viola is the only one looking at me now. Her eyes are big brown eyes have a wicked glint to them that I used to be afraid of.
Now they get me fucking hard.
She comes over and takes my arm. “Take me upstairs, now.”
It’s like she read my mind.
When I gether to my room, she’s hesitant. I’ve no idea why. I take off my jacket and remove my gun, and place them with the dice on the side table. Her eyes are glittering with a mix of lust and devious hate. She doesn’t try to stop me as I take the collar of her button-down dress and yank it hard. The buttons snap off in unison. I kiss her exposed neck, unhooking her bra as I run my lips over her shoulders, and then bite her breasts, massaging under her ruined dress until she’s quivering in my arms.