Page 11 of Luca
Motherfucker was in Vegas.
Maybe he was checking up on me on his big brother’s orders?
I snickered. Fuck them both.
If Cassio King wanted to meet me or see what I was doing, he should stop being a chicken and do it himself. Surprisingly, Luca behaved like he hadn’t recognized me either.
Maybe he was scared that I’d shoot him again, I mused to myself. He certainly hadn’t shared that little piece of information with his big brother; otherwise I’d be the last woman on this planet that Cassio King would make a marriage contract with.
It wasn’t that the arranged marriage bothered me per se. It was who it was arranged to that I wasn’t keen on. I should just kill them both and be done with it. Oh well. And then there was the whole virginity thing. Cassio King, nor any fucking member of the King family, was worth me saving myself for.
Benito King caused my father’s death and his sons were guilty by default. Of course, so was my mother but I couldn’t bear to see my brothers hurt. Especially the twins. It would destroy them.
So I kept my mouth shut.
But I refused to give anything more than what I was forced to give to any King member. So, I had to get laid and get that troublesome V-card taken care of. Didn’t matter who did it. Anyone would be better than Cassio King.
My eyes studied my reflection in the mirror. My gown with its wine-red skirt had a sweetheart neckline that dipped very low. I was leaving nothing to chance. I’d seduce someone tonight if it was the last thing I did on this Earth. The satin bodice was black and clung to my waist in a corset style. Truthfully, I had no fucking clue how women breathed in this shit.
No matter though. I looked fabulous. Especially from the waist down. The dress flared in an elaborate design with multiple layers of tulle. The mask I wore would hide me well. It was a custom-made lace mask, covering only one side of my face and leaving my mouth completely open.
I’ll need my lips tonight,I mused, thinking myself so clever.
With the last glance at my reflection, I left the hotel room. It worked out well that Áine was nowhere to be found. I’d taken the elevator, snickering at how hard it would be to take the stairs in this beautiful gown. My cousin would have surely made me take the stairs. She had some freaking elevator phobia.
Once out of the hotel, I strutted to the driver.
“Masquerade?” I questioned and he nodded silently.
How freaking convenient was it that the party also supplied a driver?
It took less than ten minutes to arrive at the destination. To my surprise, it looked almost like a residence rather than a club. A luxury residence hotel maybe.
Taking a deep breath, I attempted to calm my fluttering heart. This was reckless. Dangerous. Probably stupid.
And yep, I was still doing it.
The driver opened the door and I thanked him, gathering up my skirts between my fingers and exiting the limo.
“Welcome.” A woman dressed as a playboy bunny greeted me.
My eyes traveled over her outfit. Jesus, I went with the renaissance theme. Maybe I should have gone for a slut theme? That would surely have gotten me laid. With all these layers of clothes, I might not have a chance next to women dressed as sexy as this woman.
Ugh, fuck!
I entered the large lit ballroom and my steps faltered. Whispers filled the air. Maybe it was just the buzzing in my brain. Or the shred of sanity warning me I was being stupid. I didn’t know.
Men already rushed my way and a relieved sigh left me. Maybe I looked good enough to get laid. I winced at the crude thought, but quickly ignored it.
Drifting through the ballroom, I let my eyes wander over the men. If I slept with a stranger, it’d have to be someone I found attractive. And I would insist that masks stay on. It was safer if we kept our identities hidden from each other. I roamed the room slowly. A waiter passed me by with a tray and paused to offer me a flute of champagne.
I was parched. Offering him an absentminded smile, I took a drink and then downed it in one gulp, as my eyes continued looking for a victim. Liquid courage, as the saying goes.
Until I saw him. APhantom of the Operagold and black mask, covering half of his face staring at me.
My steps faltered and I stood still.
I was always a sucker forThe Phantom of the Opera. A tragic love story. Check. A crazy, slightly stalkerish man. Check. A man crazy enough to burn down the whole theater. Check.
