Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, Matteo grabs me by the hand and leads us to a table. It’s one of the larger tables that seats about fifteen people. At the very head of the table sits Xander, his wife, Ella, next to him, and Quinton on the other side. I glance at the blond girl sitting beside Quinton, expecting Adela or Scarlet to have that spot, but instead, I find Anja from PE class smiling back at me like she just won the lottery. Another man sits beside Anja, and I consider the fact he might be her father, but then Matteo speaks beside me.
“Hello, Father,” he greets. The man looks up from his phone, and the first thing I notice about him is his pointed nose and the gleam of hate in his eyes.
He brushes a few strands of gray hair from his face. His frame and features are intimidating.
“Please, have a seat.” Xander waves at the empty chairs, dragging my attention back to the dinner. “I’m so glad you could make it. Though that’s a very interesting choice of dress, Aspen.”
“Sorry, I missed the memo that it was a black and white ball.”
“I’m shocked they allowed her here. She should be locked up just like her father.” Matteo’s father speaks like I’m not sitting right here. I stop myself from rolling my eyes and purposely take the chair not next to Ella, leaving a space between us.
As I take a seat, I make sure the dress doesn’t show my boobs as I move around.
The only person wearing something more revealing is Anja, who might as well have come naked. Her see-through white dress isn’t leaving much to the imagination. I look around, wondering where Anja’s parents are since it seems Matteo’s father came.
Maybe they couldn’t make the trip from Russia. That seems like a stupid excuse, but I’m not about to ask her where they are. Maybe hers are as shitty as mine?
Matteo takes the seat beside me and attempts to slide his hand up the apex of my thigh. I slap it away without looking, scanning the table for a knife that I can stab him with.
“I didn’t think you would be here,” Quinton whispers, demanding my full attention.
I haven’t dared to look at him, and when I do, I know exactly why. His penetrating stare has a shiver running down my spine, and tonight there is an edge to him. He is angry, but I don’t know if he’s angry with me or the situation. I’m sure I will find out later.
Looking away from him, I finally notice who else is sitting at the table. On the other end, Roman Petrov sits at the head, his wife, Sophie, on one side, and Ren and his sister, Luna, on the other side. Scarlet is next to Luna, but I don’t see Adela anywhere.
That’s weird. Where would she be? Maybe she decided not to come, but that’s unlikely. Unless she knew Matteo would be here. Maybe she knew and made an excuse not to come. I doubt she ever told her father or Quinton about that night. Or maybe she did, and they just didn’t care.
Appearances are everything when you’re in the mob. I’m so curious about where she is that I almost ask but stop myself at the last second, knowing better.
Once I’m settled, everyone starts to chat about random stuff. Anja is telling Ella about class while Xander stands up, along with Matteo’s father, and greets some arriving guests.
Ren talks to his father about some fighting techniques while Luna and Scarlet chat about coming to school here in a few years.
The only person who remains quiet is Quinton, who ping-pongs his murderous glare between Matteo and me. If looks could kill, both of us would be dead by now. Anja leans over to whisper into his ear a few times, her hand running casually over his upper arm.
Unwanted jealousy weasels its way into my gut, and only then does it dawn on me that Quinton could possibly feel the same. Is that why he’s so angry? Is he jealous? As soon as the idea enters my mind, it floats away like a cloud on a stormy day. There’s no way he would be jealous, not of Matteo, not of anyone. He doesn’t care about me in any sense of the word. If anything, he is jealous that someone else is touching his toy.
To him, I am a physical object—nothing more or less.
Lost in thought, I almost don’t notice the gentle touch on my leg. When I look down, I find Matteo’s hand once more, inching to the inside of my thigh. It’s official; he really wants me to kill him. Furious anger ripples through me, and I slap his hand away, ready to land a slap to his face as well. Matteo smiles, literally smiles, like a fucking psychopath. Slowly, he leans into my side, and I inch away until it feels like I’m going to fall off my chair.
His voice is so low only I can hear it. “Mark my words, Aspen, by the end of the night, I will fill all three of your holes, one by one.”
Not if I can help it.
“You can try butmark my words.If your dick comes anywhere near one of my holes tonight, you will not have one in the morning.”
“Good thing I brought a gag and some rope to keep you in place.” He chuckles and straightens in his seat.
More determined than ever, I promise myself that I will find a way out of this. I’m smart and should’ve known better than to depend on Q for my protection. The only person I can depend on is me. The only person who can protect me is myself. After tonight, everyone will see that, even Quinton.