Page 49 of Twisted Fate

“Always?”

“Yes. Always.”

For some reason, I can’t seem to summon any distaste for her. Her change of mood has actually transformed the entire ambiance of the room. She emanates good cheer. Sunshine and roses. I could use a fuckton of sunshine and roses in my life.

I like her, and that’s…well, that’s incredibly inconvenient.

“You two are late as fuck,” she says with a mock stern glance at me. “Keeping my brother busy, are you?”

Her meaning isn’t hard to decipher.

“As a bee,” I quip.

She taps her perfectly manicured index finger against her lips. “Don’t male bees die right after sex? Something about their tiny dicks and abdominal tissues being ripped out during intercourse…”

Any doubt I might have had about Sabina fitting right in with her ruthless brothers evaporates right there. “At least they die happy.”

Nicole makes another choked sound. Either she’s smothering a laugh, or I’ve horrified her twice in the span of a minute.

Luca chooses that moment to join us. He greets Sabina with a chuck under her chin, which she tolerates, Leo with a bro hug that Leo returns, and Nicole with a nod that she mirrors.

The exchange tells me a lot about Luca’s position in the hierarchy. I thought he was Damian’s minion, guarding me as ordered. But I remember now what he said the first time we met, that he works with Damian, not for him. And his interaction with Leo and Sabina makes him seem almost like family.

“We’ve held dinner until you got here,” Sabina says. “But I’m starving so let’s eat.”

Her arm still hooked through mine, she draws me into an adjoining room. A round glass table is set with gold cutlery and plates that look like they were stolen from a five-star restaurant. An arrangement of colorful flowers adorns the center, low enough that diners can still see each other over top. Damian pulls out a seat, and stares at me. I take the hint and sit. Leo sits to my right, Nicole across from him. Luca sits to my left, next to Nicole, Damian beside her, Sabina across from me on Leo’s right.

I feel uncomfortable, out of place, and I wish Damian were beside me to make sure I don’t use the wrong fork. There are three fucking forks. And three fucking knives. Four, if you count the butter knife.

I drain the glass of wine a steward pours for me within seconds. He refills it without hesitation.

Huh. I’ll need to keep an eye on that. The last thing I want is to be falling down drunk while I eat dinner with the piranhas.

The appetizer is served, a Caprese salad with tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, basil, and a balsamic drizzle. I wait until Sabina chooses her utensils, then follow her lead.

Nicole leans over and whispers, “Pace yourself. There are seven courses.”

We make our way through shrimp cocktail, lobster bisque, and a green salad before the main course is served. Filet mignon accompanied by garlic mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus. Luca and Sabina carry most of the conversation. Nicole keeps her eyes on her plate. Leo glowers, mostly at me.

Every time I glance at Damian, he’s watching me, his expression intent.

I hadn’t thought I was hungry, given my uneasy position in this den of criminals, but this meal is literally the most mouth-watering food I’ve ever been served in my life. It beats a bagful of grease from McD’s, any day.

“So what do you do, Alina? When you aren’t my brother’s prisoner,” Sabina asks with a lighthearted grin. Either she doesn’t believe me or she doesn’t care.

I don’t really want to mention my time at the Emerald. I’m about to say I’m between jobs when Damian says, “She’s a writer.”

I swear there’s a hint of pride in his voice.

“A writer?” Sabina claps her hands. “What have you written? Have you published anything?”

“An online magazine published one of my short stories,” I say.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Luca says. “How did I not know this? What’s the story about?”

Before I can answer, Damian says, “It’s about a young woman who finds her mother’s diary after her death. After reading it, she comes to view her mother as a person rather than a parent. Inspired by her new insights into her mother’s resilience, she finds the courage to pursue her own dreams.”

I feel like time freezes. He read my story. Damian read my story. And he got it. Got what I wanted to say. And he liked it. I can hear it in his voice.

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