Page 2 of Isle of Beauty

I catch her green eyes before she answers and she must see the intent in mine.

“My boyfriend would beat the shit out of you if I accepted, so for your sake, fuck off.”

God forbid a woman can say no, we always have to bring in boyfriends as an excuse to refuse drinks or dances.

I can’t help but smirk at her foul mouth. One year older than I am, she taught me everything I know in that regard.

My ex used to say it was unladylike. Fuck him. I’m no lady. Neither is Giulia and that’s how we like it.

“No need to be such a bitch,” Cal sneers at Giulia's rebuttal.

Wrong fucking answer.

I make eye contact with Igor across the bar where he sits, always brooding, always attentive.

With the smallest nod, he knows I want his help to take this guy out. He pretends not to have a violent streak in his body and that he’s been forced into the profession but with ten years of friendship behind us and a family as violent as his, I know better. He loves my antics. I make his life more fun.

Douchebag walks away to sit with his friends and I realise his eyes are now set on my drink.

I almost forgot he spiked it. “Almost” being the key word. With my eyes never leaving his and a smile as fake as my grandpa’s hairline, I spill it on the floor then ask the bartender for a new one before going back to my conversation with my cousin.

This is Giulia’s and I last weekend in London before we fly back to Kalliste on Sunday. Our future’s about to take a turn.

I don’t even want to have to think about it, the mere thought makes me shudder in disgust. I’m here for a good time. It could have been with Cal the douche had he not been so stupid and insecure in his masculinity.

From the corner of my eyes, I notice him fuming. God I love it when they’re angry. They make mistakes, like thinking they can corner me somewhere.

This is going to be fun.

The pianist is taking a break before his last set so I take that opportunity to go to the ladies’ room to freshen up.

“Stay here,” I tell Giulia.

“Have fun.” She winks and takes a sip of her cocktail, completely unbothered and well aware of my intentions.

Not surprisingly, someone follows me and locks the door behind them.

I never understood why there are locks on a bathroom main door. This is a safety hazard, for fuck’s sake. But Ding Ding Ding Bingo, Cal corners me in the small room.

I watch him warily from the corner of my eye but pretend to reapply my lipstick in the mirror and not give him more of my attention.

He’s furious and I’m not expecting it when he attacks immediately, hands reaching for my neck.

I lower myself in a crouch and kick both his legs. His forehead hits the sink with a loud noise and blood pours from above his left eyebrow. He looks disoriented for a moment so I catch his hair to smack his head down again on the same spot, making him howl in pain.

Rage and adrenaline are on his side though. He punches at my legs and I fall flat on my back. I don’t have time to twist my body and avoid him. His hands find my throat and squeeze. He straddles me now, taking all the air from my lungs and I grunt in pain.

“Hold on, I’m making my way to you,” Igor says in the earpiece hidden on my earrings.

Black dots quickly paint my vision.

I scratch Cal with no effect. Beads of blood pool on his wrist but he barely notices. I reach with my left hand to my leg for the blade I always keep in a holster, flick it open and plant it in his arm.

Deep.

He releases me with a cry that pierces the silence of the bathroom. I fucking hope these walls are soundproof or that somehow, the customers won’t hear the commotion. I don’t want to traumatise anyone who didn’t deserve it.

I catch my breath quickly and get back on my feet.

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