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1199 Words
❝Deals made over wine always end in blood.❞—Sh.
Rivera.
The last thing I heard when Zayen stood, drawing his gun back into his pocket, was the sound of a body heating the ground and a sick, warm feeling of something cold against my hands—Blood.
Zayen sat back down with eerie calm, adjusted his suit like he hadn’t just executed someone in cold blood,
“Shall we continue now?”
No one needed another warning. They all retracted their guns, slowly nodded, then took their seats.
Slowly, I moved my head. From the sides, I could see a pool of blood from a now lifeless body spreading under the table. I shifted slightly to get a good look but before I could fully tilt my head to see the limp body collapsed between two chairs before Father cleared his throat.
I looked at him still shaking.
“Eat your meal.” He whispered, sending the most deadly glare my way.
He lookedat my plate, I didn't dare protest and immediately picked up my fork, sticking it back into the pork on my plate, my hands trembling as I brought it to my mouth.
“The wedding can happen in a week, afterwards the project takes place as soon as Rhea is settled in.” My father smiled, sipping a glass of wine like the table hadn’t been a battle front just minutes ago.
“Project?” Zayen raised a brow. “Is there something we’ve discussed I’m missing?”
Papa didn’t speak . He only gave a subtle nod. Rico, understanding it immediately, stood. Then Mama did too, stood graceful, like it was custom. Nonna followed and then Rhea, like a ghost, rose as well.
No one told me to stand. But I followed too.
There was this unspoken rule. Whenever the men wanted to talk strictly on business, we the ladies excuse them and it seemed as though it wasn’t just accustomed to us only because all the female Morozov stood too.
Nonna didn’t even look at me as she passed. Mama spared a glance, something unreadable in her eyes. Rhea was already halfway out the room.
I stepped back from the table, hands clenched at my sides, knuckles white.
Zayen’s eyes followed me. “Next time, I’d advise not to wear white.”
I followed his eyes to the part of my dress that had blood stain on it. I turned, walking off stiffly as the chill in the hallway wrapped around me like a second skin.
I found the bathroom on the east wing, scrubbing the stain of blood off my dress but no matter how hard I scrubbed it just wouldn’t come off.
I leaned against the sink, chest rising and falling too fast. My ears still rang from the gunshot.
He killed a man. In front of everyone. And they all just went back to eating! I threw the rag angrily into the sink.
After a long breath, I turned the tap off, patted at my dress and left.
But as I walked out of the bathroom, ready to head back into the room, a light and hushed sound of panting breaths caught my attention. I followed it, mainly because it sounded too familiar.
There was a narrow hallway off to the side that I hadn’t noticed before, half-covered by one of the heavy drapes hanging against the walls.
I rounded the corner. My heart stopped as I saw it.
Nicklai. With a woman pressed against the wall, thigh hanging on his hips as he kissed her. His mouth left her lips then to her neck, she gasped,breathless.
And then her eyes opened shut open.
She jumped as she saw me. “Shit.”
Nicklai turned. His hands still on her hips. “Rivera.”
“N-nick?” My voice came out broken. Heart shredding into a million pieces.
He pulled away, turning to me.
I was about to speak again but the lady interrupted.
The woman scoffed. “You Direwolves really don’t get tired of throwing tantrums, do you? Ever heard of Privacy?”
I ignored her, eyes locked on him, waiting for him to say something—it wouldn’t change a thing but still—but instead, he turned to her hands resting on her waist.
But instead of guilt, there was a sigh. A bored one.
“Seriously?” he said. “You’re following me now?”
My eyes widened.
“You disappeared,” I snapped, stepping forward. “I almost got shot. Shot, Nick! You weren’t there. You left me—”
“And you survived,” he cut in, eyes flat. “So why are you crying like a kicked pup?”
His words slapped harder than any bullet.
I blinked at him, stunned. “Why are you acting this way?”
He smirked. “Acting, what way? You almost getting caught in a pissing match between men twice your size? Or the fact that you’re throwing a jealous fit because I am with someone that isn’t you?”
The girl laughed smugly. He didn’t stop her.
I felt my voice break. “We are together—”
“No,” he said. “You’re insane. Crazy.”
I froze.
“And this—whatever fantasy you cooked up in your head about me and you—it’s not real.”
Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall.
I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. “I don’t believe you. You don’t mean this.”
He chuckled. “Then you are delusional.”
Tears swelled in my eyes even more, I could feel my heart rip into a million pieces.
“Enough,” I hissed. “Enough of this, Nick. Enough of the lies. The secrets. The pretending. I swear to the Moon, if you don’t admit—”
He barked a laugh. “Admit what? That you were just a distraction? A pretty one, sure. But you were always temporary. Don’t make this bigger than it was.”
Humiliation burned up my neck.
“You Frostfangs really are desperate for this alliance,” Nicklai muttered.
Then, without another word, he wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist and started walking away, like I hadn’t just shattered in front of him.
She tossed one last mocking glance over her shoulder. “Next time, learn privacy.”
Their footsteps faded, swallowed by the corridor’s silence.
I stood there, rooted, tears slipping down before I could stop them. My hands balled into fists at my sides.
I wiped my cheeks, straightened, and walked back to the main hall.
I saw Zorah’s go into the main hall behind me. The conversation was probably over. My chest burned with every step, but when I made it back, the room tension had clearly shifted.
Then a young Frostfang guard slipped in through the side door, face pale and posture rigid. He bent close to Sean, whispered something too low to catch.
Sean stood abruptly. His eyes darkened.
“She’s gone.”
Papa set his wine down looking at him. “Who?”
Sean hesitated. Then looked at Rico.
“Rhea. She ran away.”
- Writer
