Page 22 of Scar

It’s not a lie, but the kiss was just as much for my benefit. I wanted to have a taste of the woman every man in this room is eyeing with interest tonight. I wanted to show them that she’s mine. It’s one thing to say it; entirely another to show them who she belongs to.

“You want to make her jealous?”

“No, I want to let her know it’s over.”

“I would have thought that slap I dealt her would have said it all.”

“Well, obviously, you didn’t slap her hard enough,” I smirk.

CHAPTER 20 – ALLEGRA

We glide through the room, stopping to chat with various guests, and I stand by Scar’s side, a silent partner on his arm. He’s just finished a short, terse conversation with a man who now walks away, and I can’t help but notice the stiffness in Scar’s manner as we’re left alone. Something about the man must have irked him. The same way it did my father, because I remember seeing this man before – he tried to do business with my father on many occasions but was continuously turned down.

“Why didn't your father want to work with him?” Scar asks curiously, when I mention this fact to him.

I shrug, unable to recall the specific reason why my father had refused his offers multiple times. But I distinctly remember feeling uneasy around him, like something was off.

“Do you know who he is?” Scar probes.

“No idea,” I reply honestly.

“He's Russian Bratva. A very dangerous man, Allegra. Stay away from him,” Scar warns in a serious tone.

My attention immediately turns towards where the Russian walked off to, and I nod at Scar pointedly as if commanding his full attention.

“The way I see it, I’m not the one who should stay away from him,” I state confidently while eyeing the Russian and the woman hanging from his arm. As if on cue, Marisa, Scar's ex-girlfriend, lifts her hand and waves her fingers tauntingly at him with a wicked smile on her face. In that instant, two things become clear: Marisa's presence here tonight is no coincidence, and she and my husband are not truly over - not by a long shot.

“This must be your charming wife,” the man says, lifting my hand to his lips. He kisses the knuckles, then smiles as he lowers my hand and waits for Scar to make the introductions. I find out he’s a Senator, and although I’m not well versed in politics, I can see that he has a commanding presence that talks to a room, telling everyone in sight that he’s important.

The Senator shifts his attention to Scar as they discuss things that make no sense to me, but I get a sense of safety and sincerity around the man, which is a lot more than I can say for most of the guests here tonight. I leave them to chat as I excuse myself to use the lady’s room. Scar surprises me when he grabs my hand and pulls me back to him, then whispers to me not to be long before he plants another kiss on my lips.

I’m studying my face in the reflection of my compact when the door shutters loudly and I hear the lock turn. There’s a reason why I have my compact out when there’s a perfectly good wall to wall mirror in front of me. I angle the compact and, sure enough, Marisa is standing at the door, fire blazing from her eyes. I snap the compact shut and toss it into my bag, waiting.

Her heels clack noisily on the tiles as she comes toward me, stopping only when she’s behind me, staring at me in the mirror.

“I’ve been expecting you,” I tell her.

She smirks, trying to seem all high and mighty as she crosses her arms against her chest. She’s wearing a very low-cut white dress that leaves very little to the imagination, and the skirt of her dress rides way too high above her knees to be considered decent for such a function. She snickers as she looks me up and down, taking in the long, high-necked dress that covers everything and looks like I just stepped out of a fashion magazine.

“There’s no way you can keep his attention past the month,” she simmers.

“Is that your educated guess? Because I like to think I’ll be around forever. If Scar’s overt attention is anything to go by, he’s not letting me go anywhere.”

Marisa visibly stiffens as she stands glaring at me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I called him “Scar” or the fact that he won’t let me out of his sight. Especially after he discarded her so easily.

“You think you’ve got what it takes to keep him tucked in at night?” she hisses. “You’ve gotnothing. Youarenothing. He’s always going to come running back to me. He always does.”

For some reason, her words strike a nerve. Who does this woman think she is? And Scar and I may be enemies, but even I’m not vicious enough to let a human hurt another. Because undoubtedly, that’s what she wants to do, and that’s all she’ll end up doing. And I won’t allow it. We may not be husband and wife in the traditional sense, but I don’t want her anywhere near me, or anywhere near the house. No matter the cost.

I look up at the ceiling, as though deep in thought, then click my tongue and look back down at the woman standing in front of me.

“You know, that’s funny,” I comment “because I’m pretty sure my husband told me you’re not the kind of woman a man marries. I’m marriage material,” I say, pointing at my chest. I know it’s petty, but I just can’t help myself.

There’s a sharp knock on the door, then someone fiddles with the door handle. We both stay still, ignoring the noise on the other side of the door and the murmurs of women trying to get in. Eventually, they give up and go in search of another restroom as we continue to face off.

“You bitch!” Marisa hisses. “I can’t wait to see him toss you out on your ass.”

I shake my head and smile at her, before taking two steps forward so we’re almost standing face to face. Even in her heels, I’m still a smidgen taller than her, and I bend my head slightly as though whispering an important message to her.

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