4. Kristof

"What on earth are you wearing?"

Mara's subdued screech draws the attention of a few onlookers, but most are quick to look away. My reputation speaks for itself, and I've made it clear, more than once, that I don't care to be stared at. Mara strides toward me, looking beautiful in a silver dress that glitters like a pool of water with every step. I'd tell her as much if she weren't such a raging bitch.

"Where is Aleksander?" I ask, ignoring her demand and seeking out my boss instead.

Mara's eyes snap from me to my date and then back again with the intensity of freshly sharpened daggers. My date steps back slightly, tightening her grip on my arm. I do not.

"Do you have any idea what you've just walked in on? You turn up here, to such an elegant affair, in a bloodied shirt and leather jacket?" Mara's pale face flushes purple as she tries to keep her voice down and her anger contained in such a public setting. I'm tempted to push her a little further to enjoy watching her explode in front of a crowd, but time spent with her is not why I'm here.

"And you bring some… some—who even are you?" she barks at my date.

"Uh, I'm Melanie. It's nice to meet?—"

"Careful, Mara, any closer and I'll think you want a hug. I'd hate for such a dress to be stained by uh…" I glance down at myself. "Blood, sweat, and maybe some gore…?"

Mara's face flushes so dark you could push her over with a feather with how shocked she looks. I ignore her, instead brushing past her and scanning the party for the person I most want to see. Sadly, she isn't here, but hope is not lost when I glimpse her briefly through the window overlooking the back gazebo.

I leave Mara to her shock and head through the party toward the garden. People step out of my way without a thought, just a taste of the command I respect from these people. I've never shied away from getting my hands dirty or going to extreme lengths to protect those I'm loyal to. Acts like that come with a price and a reputation.

As I approach the gazebo, some of Alena's conversation with her father reaches my ears. Something about her being selfish? Hard to believe, really. She's the gentlest person I know. Almost too delicate for a world this harsh.

"Am I interrupting?"

Alena spins to face me and my breath catches slightly in my throat. She's fucking stunning, and I'm utterly enraptured by her beauty.

Her big brown eyes stare up at me, lined in black with just a hint of sparkle on her lids. Her long blonde hair is coiled on top of her head, with a few stray strands falling loose. I'm almost jealous of how they caress her bare shoulders when she moves. Her petite yet curvy body is wrapped up in a red dress that leaves very little to the filthy imagination, especially with how high it bunches up her thigh.

I can't look away, no matter how I scold myself.

Standing an entire foot taller than her, for a moment, I'm consumed with the thought of her trapped beneath me, squirming and begging for more as I use her until my cock is fucking raw, her blonde hair like crushed silk in my fist as I take her apart inch by inch. As beautiful as the dress is, I'd rather see her naked and on display, every inch of her available to me.

I swallow those thoughts as Aleksander steps forward and claps a hand on my shoulder. "Kristof, it is good to see you, my friend."

"Aleksander." I greet him first as respect demands, but my eyes never leave Alena's. Her cheeks dust pink and her wide eyes dart from me to Melanie, then down to where Melanie hangs onto the crook of my arm.

"Alena."

Her eyes dart back to me, and her full, cherry-red lips part. She stares at me the way she always does, too open and honest. I've enjoyed it, truth be told, having her follow in my shadow. I wonder if it pleases her in the dark where no one can witness her sin. I find myself hoping so. She pleases me, after all.

"Kristof."

"Happy Birthday." I hand over the larger present, and her eyes widen further as she studies the silver paper and black bow.

"Oh, thank you! I wasn't expecting anything." She trips over her words, and her delicate fingers fumble over the wrapping, tearing desperately to see the prize inside.

"You look rough." Aleksander chuckles and draws deeply on the waning cigar in his hand. "Long night?"

"Not bad, actually." My attention doesn't leave Alena. "Successful, really."

Paper falls to the stone slabs and Alena's happy, excited face suddenly cracks slightly. The dusting of pink on her cheeks flares to a deep red, and a slight tremble moves down her arms as she stares at my gift.

"Aww," Melanie coos, precisely as I had expected. "A doll? How cute!"

Alena's lower lip trembles slightly, then I catch the subtle shift of her throat as she swallows. Her mother's perfect, polite smile is placed on her plush lips when she lifts her head.

"A doll?"

"Alena," Aleksander barks sharply. "Say thank you, won't you? It's a beautiful gift from your godfather."

Alena looks up at me with those large doe eyes and nods, forcing a brighter smile. She looks utterly crestfallen, and my mind runs with what she might have expected to find in that box.

"Thank you, Kristof," she says with a subtly strained voice. "It's so beautiful. It surely must be a collector's item."

"Priceless," I reply. I hold her gaze. Then, when her father returns to his cigar, I turn to Melanie who offers me a bright, uncertain smile.

I can feel Alena's eyes boring into me like lasers. Sliding one hand around Melanie's neck, I caress her jaw with my thumb and then pull her against me. She gasps softly, and I snap my teeth lightly together, then I claim her mouth in a deeply passionate kiss. Melanie melts against me precisely like she did the night before, and I slide my other arm around her waist to hold her close.

Shoving my tongue into her mouth, I kiss her deeper, and yet, in my mind's eye, it's not Melanie I have in my arms.

It's Alena.

I kiss her so deeply that she can't breathe, and her plush lips part for air that I refuse to give. She tastes of mint and sweetness, and her body struggles slightly against mine, fighting to give in to desire and the urge to breathe. I kiss her until our chests ache and my body sings.

The taste of Melanie's mouth—old alcohol and cheap minty gum—jerks me back to reality, and we break apart. Out of the corner of my eye, Alena stares at me, unable to look away.

"Go enjoy the party," I tell Melanie. "I have some things to discuss. I'll find you later, alright?"

"Sure thing." Melanie sucks in a deep breath and turns back to Alena and Aleksander. "It was nice to meet you. And Happy Birthday!"

Melanie turns and heads back up the path toward the house, but not before I swat at her ass and send her scampering forward a few steps.

"How long will this one last?" Aleksander snorts around his cigar.

I smirk and angle back toward him. "Who knows? How long do any of them last?"

"Mara won't be pleased."

"Oh, I already saw her. I'm sure they'll hit it off."

Aleksander laughs suddenly, deep and barking, yet my attention still lingers on Alena. Her cheeks are still bright red as if she'd been slapped, and her eyes can't seem to settle on where to look. Is she jealous?

"I should, uhm…" Alena's voice cuts through the night air, and she crouches, scooping up the fallen paper. "I should get back to the party. Bye."

She rushes off so abruptly that I can't resist calling after her. "Happy Birthday, Alena."

Her large, doe-like eyes are filled with big tears when she glances back at me. "Thank you!" she calls quickly, then she continues on.

It had been a slight gamble to satisfy my curiosity, a test to see if Alena's wandering gaze had any real merit of attention toward me.

Judging by the look on her face, it might have worked too well.