“Looks like your face is healing from when Cristian kicked it in,” I said to Marco, leaning against the bar in this tiny string bikini that Chiara had forced me to wear tonight, a drink in my hand.
She definitely knew how to capture the attention of everyone in the room, which I wasn’t particularly fond of, but it helped me out when all eyes were on me and not Alessa—especially Cristian’s.
Marco grabbed his drink from the bartender, swished it around, and didn’t look in my direction because I knew that if he did, he would probably get his face kicked in again.
“You want to get me killed, Roxie?” he asked, sipping from his glass.
My lips curled into a smirk, and I jumped up onto the stool beside him. He glanced over, watching my breasts bounce in the small bikini.
“No,” I said honestly
