Chapter 22
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ANASTASIA
Lucky Charms is the only place in the Bronx I can tolerate. The bouncer angles his head in acknowledgment as he lifts the velvet rope for me, causing the long queue of drunken idiots to jeer.
I smirk, shoving myself through the crowd as I attempt to fight my way to the bar. It’s no place to conduct business but Killian insisted that if I wanted a meeting it would have to be at his nightclub.
And after what happened at the last meeting, I kind of owe him one.
Flashing green neon lights spiral around the room like lasers and fog machines create a thick dusting along the floor. My nose scrunches up at the smell of sweat lingering in the air and I fight the urge to pull my gun on the drunk bimbo that spills her drink all over my shoes.
Sighing, I manage to steal a seat at the bar and order myself a cosmopolitan. A frat boy lifts his arms into the air, giving me a whiff of his sweaty armpit and screams the lyrics of Promiscuous Girl straight into my ear.
I reach across to the bartender. “Make that two.”
“There you are, I’ve been looking for you.” There was a time when I found myself drawn to Killian. I mean I’m not blind, he’s a six-foot five Irish man, and yeah there were times I think we both contemplated fucking each other. It would have been easy and fun…but it’s rare to find a genuine friend with surnames like ours.
Sex would just complicate things, it always does.
Killian raises his hand to the bartender. “On the house Sean and get me a whiskey.”
“I thought you never drink before a fight.” Killian shoves the frat boy back into the crowd and takes the seat next to me. A slow smile spreads across his face, exuding that Irish charm.
“And how do you know I’ve got a fight? Been stalking me, Stasia? ”
“Actually I have.” He fakes a gasp but I roll my eyes. “Look, I was worried about you. You’ve been acting erratic. I know you missed a bunch of meetings. Was that for you or for Seamus?”
He lets out a strained laugh, trying to disguise the momentary fear that flashes in his eyes. “I’ve missed this, you know. I’ve missed you.”
“Stop avoiding the truth.”
“And what truth is that?” He suddenly spits out. I rear back and he sighs, downing his whiskey. “I’m not the one marrying some Italian jackass I met five minutes ago.”
“It’s complicated.”
He snorts. “That’s obvious. Maybe I am running from something, but it looks to me like you’re sprinting straight towards a ticking bomb that’s gonna destroy you when it finally blows up.”
“That’s not fair.” I murmur. Suddenly we’re not in an overstimulating club anymore. We’re somewhere quiet, somewhere dark, drifting through a needless continuum of nothingness.
All I can feel is the heat of his gaze searing into my skin — shaming me .
Is he right? Am I unconsciously setting myself up for disaster?
Those green eyes lighten as he senses the panic radiating off me. “Anastasia—”
There’s a sudden raucous of familiar laughter, pushing its way towards us. It pulls me out of whatever fucked up bubble we were trapped in and I turn away from him.
It takes me a minute to register the fact that my mom is dancing towards me, wearing an inflatable penis on her head like a crown. Jas pushes past her, beaming as she sees me and blows a party blower in my face.
She laughs as confetti launches out at me. “Welcome to your bachelorette party!”
Oh god.
My face falls and I look to Killian who guiltily turns away, ordering some tequila shots. “He was in on it, in fact he helped me plan it.” Jas gushes, fixing a bridal crown onto my head. “I knew the only way to get you into a club would be if it was for business.” She pouts, clearly on her way to getting drunk. “You can’t be too mad at me, look who I brought!”
Moving aside, she pulls someone forward but their midnight blue hair hangs over their face to hide it from view. Jas nudges her and the girl sighs, pushing back her thick hair as she flashes me a small smile .
“Calista?” I have to blink a few times to make sure it’s really her, before laughing softly. “No, that can’t be my little sister who refused to get pink Hannah Montana highlights with me when we were kids.”
She nudges my shoulder. “You know I just didn’t want to piss off dad back then.”
I take a strand of her new hair between my fingers and twirl it around. Midnight blue is a color I would have never associated with my sister. She’s gentle and soft in ways I never will be, but somehow it compliments her perfectly.
“I think I’ve earned the right to be wild for once. Besides, I like it.” It’s only recently that my sister has started doing things for herself. Granted, she went a little extreme with dropping out of school and moving out, but she seems happy.
Pulling her to the side whilst Jas busies herself with handing out tequila shots, I hug my sister hard. “Thank you.” The rest is unspoken because although it seems like she’s forgiven me, I doubt she’s accepted the engagement. More like tolerating the situation on my behalf.
“I won’t tell them and I’m sorry for not responding to the texts and the calls and the facetimes.” She laughs nervously. “I was just trying to make sense of it I guess, see it from your point of view. I know you’ve never wanted a fairytale romance, but I was always holding out for you to experience it because you deserve true love, Stasia. But…if a contract marriage is what you want and if you’re happy, then I am too.”
At this very moment, I’m happy.
I hug her again and we both laugh as my mom stumbles towards us, slinging her arms around our shoulders. “My girls!” She grins, hiccupping into our ears.
I take the empty glass out of her hand and set it on the table. “How many has she had?”
Calista laughs. “Way too many. She kept telling us she could handle it in the limo drive over here. That she used to drink twice what we could handle but…”
Four kids later and my mom could barely finish two glasses of wine before passing out on the couch.
She stumbles again, laughing at nothing. Calista frowns. “Do you think we should call dad, mom no—”
Our mom escapes our grip and launches herself into the middle of the dance floor. With an ass like hers, every guy will be trying it on with her and I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mom this drunk before.
I jump at the sound of Killian’s voice brushing past my ear. “I’ll inform security not to let anyone near you guys. They’ll make sure no-one touches your mom. ”
My lips rise as I watch her dance, oblivious to the male gaze surrounding her. One guy attempts to hook an arm around her waist but Killian nods and a security guard grabs him first, shoving him out of the club. Calista manages to reach my mom and they both dance together.
“Thanks.” I murmur. “So how long have you guys been planning this?”
“A month.” Jas interjects, thrusting a Saks shopping bag into my arms. “And this is for you.” I peer inside, finding a silk red dress and a bride-to-be sash. “I figured you wouldn’t be dressed for occasion so I brought you a little something.”
A little was correct.
“I’m not getting changed in the bathroom.” It’s an excuse not to wear the dress but my skin also crawls at the thought.
“You can use my office.” Killian dangles a silver key before my eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.
Asshole . He probably just wants to see me in the dress.
“Stasia, if you really don’t want to wear it then it’s fine.” I’m about to take Jas’ offer up when Killian opens his mouth.
“Yeah Stasia, it’s okay to be scared.” I narrow my eyes at him, knowing he’s just trying to challenge me.
Oh fuck it .
I down a tequila shot and snatch the key from his hand. “Fine, I’ll wear it.”
Before I lose my nerves, I quickly make my way up to his office and bolt the door shut. A sigh of relief escapes my lips at how quiet everything is now. I can finally hear myself think and my mind is screaming at me not to wear the dress.
It’s not that I’m scared to wear it, just apprehensive.
When you’re a woman in business, everyone is watching you and what you wear plays a huge role in how much respect you earn from others — more specifically men.
If I rocked up in a short dress everyday, the board would spend more time staring at my ass than actually listening to what I say. My body would remind them that I’m a woman and I would have to fight a hundred times harder to get them to see me as their boss.
Though I suppose we are in a club and half of those idiots will be too drunk to remember a thing…yet people might take pictures.
They could post them for the whole world to see and —
Oh screw them, it’s my bachelorette party.
It takes me a few minutes to squeeze myself into the dress, adjusting it so it fits around my curves. I place the sash over my head and try to stretch the material down until it covers my ass, but every time I stand it just pops back up.
I startle at the sharp knock on the door. “It’s Killian. I just wanted to see if you were alright.”
I glance down at myself and take a deep breath before opening the door for him. He stands at the entrance, ripped jeans hanging low on his waist with his white shirt missing a few buttons.
He doesn’t say anything as he looks me over. Those green eyes move up and down whilst I stand there like an anxious mess, waiting for him to say something. “You look stunning.”
“I know that.” I retort, turning back around to hide my smile.
I can hear him following me in and closing the door. Stuffing my old dress in the bag alongside the sash I’m in no way wearing, I kick it under his desk, hoping to God no-one decides to snoop through it. This dress is so tight I was forced to go commando so my panties are currently bundled up inside my old clothes.
“I’ll have it delivered tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” When I turn back to look at him, I sense something different about him. I step closer, noticing the way his chest is moving faster and his veins look noticeably strained under his skin. “Killian, are you okay? ”
A bitter laugh escapes his lips. “No.” He admits. “I don’t understand it. Why did you choose him?”
That’s what this is still about?
I sigh, “Look I know Enzo wasn’t exactly the nicest guy when you first met but—” Killian shoves me back against the desk, his lips meeting my neck.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I screech. Thrusting my knee up, it jams into his chest hard enough to make him grunt. I try to break free from his hold but he grips me even tighter, pinning my body against the wood. “Don’t forget who showed you that move.”
It’s useless for me to fight back and we both know it. Anything I try, he taught me.
“What do you want from me?”
“An answer.” He seethes, dredging up a feeling I’ve never experienced with him before. Fear . “I could have given you everything he is and more. An alliance between us would have meant becoming the most powerful organization in the Northern hemisphere. Instead, you’re slumming it with some lowlife crime boss that no-one’s ever heard of.”
His eyes are crazed and we’re so close to each other that there’s no mistaking his blown pupils. This isn’t him .
“You’re high Killian. I don’t know what you took, but you don’t want to marry me. It would destroy you Killian and you fucking know it. This is your stepfather speaking, isn’t it? His words that he probably beat into you.”
“Shut up.” He snarls, nails digging into my skin harder than he probably realizes.
Anger radiates off his body like a heatwave, suffocating the air all around us. “Killian, you’re my friend. You’ve helped me so much over the years but you know you don’t want this life or to be in charge of the mob. Boxing is your passion, so follow that. If we married, you would lose all the freedom that allows you to juggle both lives.”
My reasoning seems to break through the thick cloud of wrath I’m sure his stepfather conjured. His hands drop from my body as he steps back and relief floods through me.
“I’m sorry Anastasia. I’m so fucking sorry that bastard—” He tugs at the strands of his warm brown hair, forcing his shirt to rise up.
That’s when I notice the spattering of bruises along his ribs, far too fresh to be from one of his fights.
I push off from the desk, ignoring his protests for me to run away and gently rest my fingertips along the marks. He flinches for a second, tears burning in his eyes. “Why don’t you fight back? ”
Memories flood forward of me telling Enzo to do the same thing when he used to be bullied.
Then again to Killian a few years later, when he would come back after the holidays with new scars and bruises.
“He’s the only family I’ve got left.” His voice is so broken that it chips away at my soul.
I want to kill the bastard for hurting my friend. For making him believe the abuse was love.
“Killian you don’t have to—”
The door suddenly slams open, screaming at its hinges. Enzo stands in the doorway, appearing manic as he twirls a dagger around in his hand. I frown, trying to place the insignia on the hilt but that sinister wrath chokes the air around him and draws my attention back to him.
There’s a smile playing on his lips, yet his eyes blacken with jealousy. “You’re awfully close to my fiancé.”