Page 8 of Conall's Reign

A man’s hands grasped my hips, drawing me closer. I didn’t look back. I didn’t care who he was. To him, I was a fantasy brought to life, untouchable yet tantalizingly near. To me, he was nothing more than a shadow.

The music surged, and I raised my hands, spinning in sync with the rhythm. My dress caught the lights, sparkling like a second skin, and I felt the crowd’s gaze follow my every move. They always watched.

I drained another drink, the ice clinking against the glass as I tipped it back. The buzz dulled the edges of my reality, smoothing out the jagged truths I refused to confront—the truth that my life wasn’t mine. I was a pawn in a game I hadn’t chosen to play.

My future had been sold, a union forged in blood and business. I hadn’t revealed to Angelo that I knew. That secret was mine, a small shard of power I clung to in the face of everything that had been taken away.

Now, I screamed in silence, drowning myself in music, liquor, and the endless parade of faces that blurred into obscurity. I played my part to perfection: the spoiled princess, reckless and wild, untouchable and unattainable.

But beneath the glitter and glamour, I was falling apart. I drank, partied, crashed cars, and shopped. I waited to be married off.

The song ended, and I stumbled off the floor; the cool air by the bar was a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of the crowd. Someone handed me a drink—someone I didn’t know or care about. I took it, sipping absently as my gaze drifted over the sea of strangers.

They all wanted something from me: my attention, my name, my story. None of them saw me—the real me, hidden beneath layers of pretense and pain. And I had ensured that.

I leaned against the bar, allowing my mask to slip for a brief moment. I caught sight of my reflection in the mirrored wall behind the liquor shelves. The girl staring back at me was beautiful, flawless, and utterly hollow. Her makeup was perfect, her hair styled at the finest salons, her nails manicured… but she was dead inside.

The bartender’s voice pierced my thoughts. “Another round, princess?”

“Sure,” I finally said, flashing him a smile. “Why not?”

The night stretched on, an endless cycle of dancing, drinking, and drowning. I let it consume me because the alternative was too terrifying to confront. If this was my rebellion, my fleeting grasp at freedom, I would burn bright enough to leave an afterimage before plunging into the abyss.

“Why not, indeed,” a voice said from beside me. I turned and found a man with sharp features and a lazy smirk. He was handsome in a careless, dangerous way—the type who lived for the moment and didn’t care about the consequences.

“Want to get out of here?”

I didn’t ask for his name. I didn’t want to know. He grabbed my hand, leading me out of the club, past the line of gawking onlookers, and into the cool night air. I knew better than to leave with a stranger, but I didn’t care. My brain felt like it was short-circuiting at that moment. When his car pulled up to the curb by the valet, it didn’t surprise me that it screamed money and recklessness.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he held the passenger door open for me.

“Do you actually care?”

Shaking my head, I slid into the seat, the leather cold against my skin. He slammed the door shut before rounding the car and climbing in. The engine roared to life, and we shot into the night. The city lights a blur of color and chaos around us.

We were both drunk. I could feel it in how he laughed too loudly and took turns too quickly, in the way my head swam and my words slurred. The adrenaline of the ride mixed with the alcohol in my veins, creating a heady, dangerous cocktail that made me feel invincible.

I didn’t feel any sense of alarm until the car slowed to a stop in a seedy part of town. Pulling at the edge of my dress, I glanced around with discomfort.

“This doesn’t seem like the best place to stop. Maybe you should take me back to the club.”

“I don’t think so.” The words were laced with malice now. There was no trace of seduction, and I realized I had been a fool, even as I tried to shake off the alcohol buzzing through my veins. My hand reached for the handle, even as his head tilted mockingly. “Locked, Francesca.”

“What do you want?” I asked, although I already knew, even as my fingers fumbled with the fastening of my clutch. He had revealed part of it by addressing me by my name.

“You don’t know who I am?” his lips curled.

He had a handsome quality that didn’t make him stand out at the club. He was forgettable. If I had to describe him to someone, I would struggle to provide any details that wouldn’t immediately place him among thousands of other men. My stomach churned as I shook my head.

“I don’t. I’m sorry. Please let me go. I won’t say a word to anyone,” I said desperately. He knew it was a lie. I pressed my fingers deeper into my clutch, reaching for the knife that my brothers made me carry.

“We’re just going to have a little fun.” His mouth twisted into a venomous grin, and he was no longer handsome. “You looked great on that dance floor,” he crooned. “Sexy.” His hand reached out and grasped the skin of my knee, moving upward as I scrambled to escape from him. A sickening chill swept over me.

“Wait. I… want you to let me out.”

His lips curled into a malicious smile. “I’m going to enjoy this. I brought you here just for this moment. All of you, Santellis, are scum. Scream all you want.”

My hand clenched, sweat breaking out as I fought to stay still and not scream or lurch away. He fully intended to rape me. It was clear on his face. I wouldn’t let that happen. I’d fight with everything I had.

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