Chapter 13

**A L E X**

I hate these fucking parties.

Fuck these fucking parties.

And fuck parties that Grace Millers attends specifically.

I don't exactly have anything against parties, no. I would love parties if it could be just me. Or maybe me and a few people, Sophia for example, Lizzy, Carl even.

But that's not what parties look like in my world. Here they're as good as a fucking battlefield, only everyone is pretending it isn't, and they all have their own bloody goals, and being on the top of the food chain makes me one of all of them.

Which is why I was happy to see Sophia even with her cunning friend on her arm, who looked constipated for some reason, and I am forced to think it's more than just the intimidation of having to attend a party among people way above her standing. I was hoping to spend the rest of the evening with Sophie and find relief from the constant attention and seduction the woman is the room keep subjecting me to just so one of them could be a cut above the rest, and I’d take her to bed. I don’t think they care about the bed so much either, they just want my cock in them so they can announce pregnancy and from that time onwards, it cake.

Except I know their game very well, I have known it forever. It comes with the Moretti name–the lack of the basic ability to find true love, only women who see me for my name and standing and want to share some of it. And they’ll do anything for that small share. I don’t mean to disrespect, I understand, it is just the way of the world. Let alone the women, more than half of the men in this room would suck my dick and bend over if they could get what they want out of me.

It is just a little sad.

The celibacy mostly. I am not a man who longs for love and shit like that, of course.

But I’ve decided to put my hate of socializing aside for a few weeks, just for my sister’s happiness. Which is why I smile when she walks in, but wouldn’t the world turn upside down if I were allowed to smile for more than ten seconds?

I’ve only just reached the girls when Grace Millers decides to turn and leave and wander into a crowd full of criminals, ruining my sense of calm–and my sister’s of course.

*She cannot be out there alone, she’ll find out!* I read the panic in Sophia’s eyes and I assure her I’ll take care of it with mine before shifting my gaze to Grace Miller’s back, her bare back. The one I’m a little more familiar with than necessary.

The memory of the morning is pretty visual as it overrides my vision and I suddenly feel the need to get away from my sister.

“Go meet the families, they are all waiting.” I tell her, before leaving and following–very discreetly–Grace Millers to the bar. I find myself a whiskey three counters away from the one she sits at, alone and… irate? No she looks uncomfortable more than annoyed.

I almost feel happy when I consider I could be the reason of her discomfort.

The bartender on the other side of her counter pulls her attention just before her eyes could find me, I decide to make use of the moment and put a little more distance between us. As long as she is alone, Sophia’s mafia secret is safe. And so is my peace.

Almost as if on cue, I hear her cough, frantically. When I turn, I find the drink that was in her hand, now spilled all over her dress, making the cheap fabric stick to her skin. She jumps off her stool and flinches when her other arm touches the counter. I almost go to her when I see another man reach her–Cedro. Oh My Fucking God.

And now they’re talking. Amazing. The fucking Capo of my mafia.
The more I try to keep this woman away, the more she keeps tangling further into my life.

She looks up at him and there’s gratefulness in her eyes that pricks me. They start talking, she gets smiley, he gets her a drink, and suddenly she looks very much more comfortable and happy and that is not an interesting look. So I decide to get myself another whiskey and move to join Sophia as she catches up with the Novikovs only a few steps away.

“-it is almost ironic, Ne tak li? (Am I right)” The 64 year old Fredek Novikovs finishes his sentence and I have zero interest in finding out what is ironic, so I just raise a corner of my mouth and nod once. Sofia gives me a knowing look and I warn her to not interrupt and let him keep talking. The people in this business don’t like not being listened to.

What I am interested in on the other hand are Cedro’s fingers, as they dig in Grace Miller’s arm, touching her skin, while he pulls her past me towards the dance floor. No, what I am even more interested in is the way she flinches under his touch, despite the smile she shined at him back there. She doesn't want to go, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Probably because he is not used to it.

What annoys me more are her pathetic attempts are reluctance, it looks like she is playing hard to get. Who am I kidding, she probably is. She definitely is! This is what she is here for, to find the most expensive bed she can get into. Now I see the point of the backless dress. She is just like every other woman in the room.

Grace Millers, so desperate. I can’t believe she has had everyone including my sister fooled with her oh-so-innocent front.

Not any more though, and on my watch.

In seconds, I find myself doing the stupidest thing I have ever done. I walk up to my best friend and cock-block him.