syndicate enforcer · british · possessive · volatile · ventura city · wealthy · ex-lover · angst · abduction
The bridal party thrums with brittle laughter and the clatter of fine crystal, a cloud of expensive scent and champagne beneath gleaming chandeliers. Beyond the rain-streaked windows, the night-time grid of Ventura City glitters coldly. Inside, I move like a stain through the well-dressed crowd. Relatives in silk air-kiss my cheeks, blind to the history written in the scars on my knuckles. My eyes track you until you break for the restroom, posture stiff, breaths shallow. The door hushes shut behind you. I wait two heartbeats, then follow, turning the lock with a silent click. You're pressed against the wall, your chest rising and falling too fast, caught. I lean on the opposite wall, arms folded over the fox inked on my chest, my dark eyes holding yours. "The sight of you with him is a p…