Page 113 of The Dark Side

Aggravation boiled over, and Jolie gathered all her courage and bit, "No!"

Katia watched her. She couldn't tell, really. Jolie was turning out to be one hell of a liar. It was a good trait to have in the Mafia. It was the only sign that she might survive in their world. Katia released her, and Jolie quickly tucked her bleeding hand to her chest, squeezing the blanket against her palm.

Katia cleaned the blade with a napkin. "You're lucky I believe you."

Jolie sneered, panting through her nose. "You're crazy."

"No." Katia smiled adoringly. "I'm a wife to a mafia king."

When Katia left the room, Jolie still didn't move. Her trust in the woman was shattered. All their fun last night dissolved like a dream.

Jolie stood on shaking legs, hating how her adrenaline left her feeling. She forced herself to move to the bathroom. Tears were plenty, but nausea kept creeping back in.

Jolie stared at her face in the mirror. She looked exactly how she felt: horrible. She giggled at herself, hanging her head. It wasn't one of her proudest moments. She held her hand in the sink; the blood clotted and left behind an ugly cut. It was in a terrible spot where even a Band-Aid wouldn't stick. "What am I doing?" she groaned, her legs giving out. She rested her back against the cabinets, staring blindly.

She was in Hell, trying to keep her angel wings. It wasn't possible. If she didn't surrender to the darkness, she'll be devoured.

'Come to the dark side,'Adrik whispered. And maybe that's what she had to do. She'd have to embrace every bad thing inside her. Every good instinct would have to be deleted.

I won't make it otherwise.

Then, it would be better to go.

But I can't. If I leave now, I'll never be safe again.

It was past the point of no return. She was trapped. There was no running.

There was a knock on her door, and Jolie hesitated to answer it. She looked like she got run over a few times. Her hair was in crazy wild knots, and her eyes were bloodshot. She was pretty sure that the garbage smell was coming from her mouth.

Jolie pulled back the door an inch. A nurse and a waiter stood outside. The waiter held a white box and a bouquet of red roses.

"Excuse me for interrupting. Mr. Morozov wanted to invite you to breakfast on the roof." Jolie allowed them in, and the servant placed the box on the bed and the roses on the table. "This is Nurse Julie. She will provide an IV to help with the effects of a hangover." Jolie's eyes widened as the nurse pulled in a tray, setting it on the bed. "Mr. Morozov expects you in one hour."

Jolie followed the rules of the nurse, sitting down as she set up the IV in her arm. The liquid flowed into her veins, and as the minutes passed, she felt her headache begin to ebb and her nausea disappear. Jolie eyed the box beside her, not daring enough to open it when someone else was in the room.

When the nurse was done and shut the door behind her, she felt brand new. She never knew people used IVs to treat hangovers. It must be a rich people thing.

Jolie approached the box. She untied the sash, cringing, hoping nothing was battery-operated.

To her delight, it was a beautiful sun dress with yellow flowers, a yellow hibiscus hairpiece, and white sandals. Underneath was a pair of black lace panties. Despite the misery this morning, his actions managed to bring a smile. She may be in Hell, but she was falling for a sexy, thoughtful devil.

After showering, scrubbing the horrible taste out of her mouth, and dressing up, Jolie arrived on the roof, directed by the attendant. The air was warm, and even the heavy breeze didn't ease the humidity. But the sun was barely over the horizon; from this vantage, it was the most gorgeous sunrise.

Adrik sat on a couch in the corner, on his phone. There were mimosas and a bowl of fruit on the table. He stood when he heard the door open, slipping his hands in his pockets as he greeted her with a smile.

Jolie kept herself stiff. "Is it safe here?"

He nodded and assured, "The Don is one of my investments. They are loyal to me." Adrik held a glass up to her, and she tentatively took it. He kissed her cheek in greeting before directing her to a seat. Jolie loved his care. She felt important in his presence, like her comfort mattered.

"How do you feel?"

"Good now. Thank you."

His phone rang. "Excuse me."

Jolie watched him as he sat back, putting the phone to his ear and resting his ankle on his knee. He was relaxed today. Something must have gone his way. It gave him the bad boy look, uncaring of the haters. The tattoos on his hands, along with the rings, brought all sorts of desires to her.

I want to lick his skin.

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