Chapter 6 Cressida
six
Cressida
The audacity of this fucking man.
How dare he speak to me so hotly and just . . . walk away.
Dane scurried off after Konstantin humiliated him in front of everyone who was standing around watching my fiancé wield his power.
It pissed me off as much as it turned me on, and that makes me even angrier.
“You’re going to let him get away with that?” Sunniva asks from my side.
Luce rushed over when Konstantin started his dick measuring contest, alert and ready to defend me if she thought I was truly in harm’s way. Konstantin wouldn’t hurt me. Something deep in my soul assures me of that. I’m probably the safe as I could ever be when he’s around.
“You should be careful of him,” Lucette warns. “It’s not a wise idea to rile up the Bogeyman. People fear him for a reason.”
I shrug. “I’ll be careful, but I won’t be disrespected, Luce. Plus, he’d be stupid to harm me for various reasons.”
“Well, then. What are you going to do now?” Sunniva asks mischievously.
“You’re trouble,” Lucette admonishes her.
“I’m chaos, babe. Get it right,” Sunniva replies with a wink.
Lucette rolls her eyes before she runs them around the club again. Always scanning for a threat. “Chaos isn’t always a good thing, Sun.”
“Maybe not, Luce, but it’s sure in the hell fun,” I reply before marching in the direction Konstantin and his guard moved to.
There’s another man stationed at the foot of the stairs to the VIP area, and the skull tattoo on his hand tells me that he’s one of Kon’s men.
His arms are folded along his chest, his feet shoulder-width apart, and he stares at me with a fierce scowl. “This is a private area.” He runs his eyes over my short black leather skirt and corset top, his lip curling in distaste. “The boss does not require your kind.”
My lips twitch in amusement, and I lift my left hand to my mouth. I run my middle finger over my blood red painted lips.
Sunni snickers at my side when the soldier’s eyes catch on my ring. “Oh, someone doesn’t recognize the boss’s wifey, it seems.”
The soldier’s face loses color, and terror flashes in his eyes for only a second before he touches his earpiece. “Boss, there is a woman here who is claiming to be your wife.” Whatever Kon says has him straightening his spine and swallowing tightly. “Yes, Boss.”
He doesn’t say anything else, moving his eyes away from me, and unclips the velvet rope going across the stairs. Instead of making him feel worse, I hold my head high as I march past him. Except when I don’t feel Lucette at my side, I turn to find he’s blocked her from following.
“What’s the meaning of this?” I ask sharply. “She’s with me.”
“The boss said only you and your friend.”
Lucette’s hand is quick to grab the knife she had strapped to her thigh and flashes it at him. With a sigh, I move closer so that she can hear me. “It’s okay, Luce.”
Her sharp glare moves to me. “I go where you go.”
“I know, but this is Kon’s call. This is his place.”
Of course, I didn’t realize that until I spotted the skull emblem on the bartender’s shirt as we passed.
Lucette doesn’t stand down, so I step back through the rope and place my hand on her arm, lowering it to her side. “I’m safe with Konstantin, Luce. No one will get to me as long as I’m with him.”
“You know that for sure?”
The truth settles into my soul. “Yes. Physically, I’m as safe with him as I can be.”
Emotionally, is a different story because my darling fiancé has heartbreak written all over him.
“Fine. I’ll take up station right here then.” Her lips curl down as she stares at me. “If anything happens to you, I’m killing them all, Cressi.”
“If anything happens to me, it won’t be you they need to fear,” I reply, squeezing her arm before walking back to the stairs.
Anger rides me hard as I climb the stairs. My fists open and close, my fingers tingling as the rage builds.
I’m so tired of the men in this lifestyle acting as if women only have a place on their arms and in their bed. We could be useful to them in ways they’ll never understand if they’d just let us have a damn voice.
There’s so much I want to scream at Konstantin about, and I plan on doing just that when I reach the top of the stairs.
Before I get the opportunity, our gazes lock.
He reads my intentions and gives a quick jerk of his head toward the man sitting across from him.
I pause briefly to get a read on the situation, then straighten my shoulders and put my mafia princess mask on.
Konstantin’s shoulders relax when he realizes I won’t disrespect him while he’s conducting business.
Sunniva squeezes my hand, letting me know she picked up on the same thing and she’s going to follow my lead.
Konstantin holds his hand out for me as I approach. He smiles in a charming way when I give him mine, lifting it to his mouth to brush a kiss along my knuckles. Then he pulls me to him and guides me to his lap.
I perch on his lap carefully and wrap my arm around his shoulder. “Darling.”
“Cressida,” he purrs.
Then, as much as I hate it, I play the airhead that most of the men in our circles expect.
I pout at him. “I missed you on the dance floor. It’s no fun anymore.”
His eyes laugh at me, reading the distaste in my tone. “If you can be a good girl and stay silent as I speak to my friend here, then I will make sure you are rewarded.”
“Oh, Konnie,” I squeal, throwing my other arm around his neck too. “I can be your best girl.”
Then I mimic zipping my lips and throwing away the key.
“Are you sure we should conduct business with them here?” the man questions.
Konstantin raises a brow, his hand tightening around my hip. “Do you doubt that my wife will be loyal to me?”
The silky tone of his voice raises the hair on my arms, and the man in front of us pales as terror lights up his eyes.
“N-n-no,” the man stammers.
He’s lying, but I don’t call him out on it.
“Good. Good. Now, tell me, Mister Venyara. Who is responsible for the Reaper drug being on my streets?”
Interesting. Konstantin isn’t worried about talking business in front of me. It’s so different from what I’ve grown up with.
“I don’t know who it is.”
A quiet hiss passes from my lips as a current of electricity runs along my skin at his statement.
Leaning back so that my lips rest against Konstantin’s ears, I whisper, “He’s lying.”
Then the infuriating man does something that steals just a small piece of my heart.
He believes me without question.
No hesitation.
Konstantin pats my hip in a signal to move, so I slide from his lap and onto the spot next to him. He sits taller, his chest puffing out and muscles bulging under his suit jacket as he moves.
Mister Venyara doesn’t have time to protect himself as Konstantin strikes so quickly that we don’t even see him do it. Kon’s fingers wrap around the man’s throat as he pulls him from his seat.
My breathing speeds up as I watch Konstantin handle him as if he weighs nothing, lifting him in the air with just the force of his hand as he stands.
Enhanced strength.
Holy shit.
A shiver skates up my spine as I picture him tossing me over his shoulder as if I weren’t a thicker woman. This man could hold my weight without an issue and that’s the most delicious thing about him so far.
Dane never complained that my thighs were thicker than some of his normal women or that there was a bit of fluff around my middle that wouldn’t disappear no matter how hard I tried.
Which wasn’t at all.
I loved the skin I was in, and if no one else did then they were always free to fuck off.
It was never me being bigger that anyone had an issue with, though.
They tried to beat me down throughout my life because of my ability to tell when someone is lying.
No one likes to be confronted with something that’s not easily understood.
“You dare lie to me?” Konstantin asks.
The menace in his lazy tone causes the man to shake in Konstantin’s grip.
“Do you know how easily I could snap your neck, Venyara? Shall we find out, or have you suddenly remembered something you should tell me?”
Venyara gasps unintelligibly, but Kon deciphers it.
He tosses the man back to the other couch before returning to his seat. “Speak.”
“They’ll kill me.”
Konstantin shrugs. “So will I. It seems you have quite the dilemma.”
A sharp current of anger snaps through the air as Venyara relents and speaks the name of someone who was thought long dead.
The color drains from my face when Konstantin peers over at me. “Truth,” I croak.
Sunniva whimpers from beside me, and I reach over to grasp her hand in mine.
Giselda, our best friend, died seven years ago.
Or . . . that was the story.
Yet, according to Venyara, she’s the Reaper. She’s the person behind the drug that’s killing people.
My stomach lurches, and I scramble for the wastebasket next to the couch.
A ghost has risen from the grave.