Page 74 of Tainted Saints

Lan chuckles from the kitchen, that boy is always in there making food. “Glad you slept well, Duchess, but you missed a meal and now must eat.”

He indicates that I sit, placing a plate full of traditional breakfast foods; bacon, fluffy scrambled eggs, and a stack of pancakes with butter and drizzled with syrup.

“Yum,” I say, licking my lips and grabbing my cutlery.

“Yes, I will say that Americans do breakfast better than Italians.” He laughs, setting his own plate down next to mine, then grabbing two glasses of fresh orange juice. “My mother’s family just have coffee and cigarettes in the morning.”

I wrinkle my nose. I dislike both of those things though at least coffee smells good. “Where are the others?”

“They’re downstairs, sorting out the dogs, but I’m sure they’ll be back up once that’s done,” he tells me, clearly getting fed up with my slow speed and using his fork to cut a piece of his pancake off before holding it to my lips. “I want to see most of this gone, Duchess.”

Opening up, I let him place the bite in my mouth, releasing a contented sigh when the sweet, buttery goodness explodes on my tongue. We eat the rest in much the same way, though at least he lets me feed myself half of the time. I can’t quite manage the full plate, years of forced starvation have left me with a small stomach that can’t cope with too much at once.

I’ve just placed my knife and fork on the plate when the door opens and Forest comes storming in. Immediately, I know that something is up, his shoulders are tense, his brows lowered, and there’s an air of rage rolling off him.

“What’s happened?” I ask, getting to my feet and rushing over to him, my heart racing.

“Fucking Wallace!” he seethes, his entire body trembling with rage. “I caught him taking some dogs, ready for next week.”

“Next week?” I ask, frowning as a flutter in my stomach threatens to bring back all the yummy food I just ate. “What’s happening next week?” Forest clamps his jaw shut, Blaine stepping in behind him and shutting the door. “What’s going on?”

He looks to Lan, so I turn and find him standing, his hands clenched in fists at his sides. He huffs out a breath, his shoulders dropping.

“Next Saturday is the dog fight.” I’m surprised they didn’t tell me sooner, my stomach sinks remembering Landon’s confession in the Ambassador’s office.

“And Bolt is still going to fight?” I ask, not missing when his gaze darts to Bolt who’s pressed against Forest’s side, Lan’s entire face tensing. He looks back up at me, pain in the depths of his dark eyes.

“Duchess…” he starts, his hand reaching out as he steps towards me, but I step to the side, away from them all, a sense of betrayal churning my stomach.

“You said you’d find another way, that he wouldn’t get hurt,” I plead through clenched teeth, their silence speaking volumes. “He’ll be killed, Lan.”

“I won’t let that happen, Duchess,” he vows, taking another step towards me. This time I don’t move away, wanting so desperately to believe his words, but even I know how these things usually go.

“You won’t be able to stop them, Lan,” I whisper as he closes the gap between us, his warm palms cupping my face. My shoulders sag, my body feeling like it’s caving in on itself as the realisation that there is no other way settles like a weight on my chest.

“I will not let anything happen to him, I swear. It’s the only way we can get in, Duchess.” He sounds just as frustrated as I feel. I hate this feeling of uselessness that the Ambassador always gives me, like he’s the one always in control and I have no choice but to follow along like an obedient slave.

Sighing, knowing that they’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, aka Lan’s uncle and the Ambassador, I drop the subject.

“What time do we need to leave for the performance?” I ask, my bright tone falling flat. Lan smiles at me anyway, brushing a soft kiss on my lips.

“We have about a few hours. I said to Mama we’d be there at seven,” he tells me. “Let’s relax until then, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree, my stomach churning with a mix of trepidation for the dog fight and nerves and excitement over singing in front of strangers.

“You’ll be amazing, Little Lady,” Forest states, the tension in his shoulders still there even if his face is all smiles. I hate this, that we have to pretend it’s all okay when it’s not. “Now, The Flash has just come online and I hear it’s a good one.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon watching Marvel films, again, the guys laughing at me when I cry at the sad bits. I’m too nervous to eat more than a little bread and a selection of dried meats that Lan feeds me with his fingers, persistent bastard.

“I need to change,” I tell them when we only have half an hour until we have to leave. Grabbing my bag, I head into Forest’s room and take out the deep-red velvet dress I bought to wear. It’s pretty simple, a low crossover V-neck that shows plenty of cleavage and falling to the floor in soft waves.

Leaving just my lace knickers and stockings on, I slip the dress over my head, taking out my make-up and applying a wicked flick and bright red lips. I also take out my heels, red sequin ones from my favourite British designer, and slip those on too.

“Fuck me, sugar,” Forest whispers from the doorway, and I look up to see his gaze devouring me. “You look…well prettier than a peach.”

“Thank you,” I reply softly, walking over to him and placing my hand on his flannel shirt. “You look pretty hot yourself, cowboy.”

“Why, thank you, ma’am.” He smirks, dipping down to place a kiss on my cheek. “You ready?”

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