Page 5 of Corrupting Lily

“Bring a chair.” More commands. As I turn to get one, his voice stops me.

“Not you, little flower,” the mysterious man says, his gaze drifting from me to Camille, whom I hadn’t noticed standing off to the side of the booth. Clearly eavesdropping. I'm so flustered that I don't even have a chance to ponder the term of endearment used with such ease.

“You. Now.” Camille flushes, anger rising again as she looks fromthe man to me, then to Basilio. Basilio glares at her, inclining his head, before she walks to the other booth and starts dragging a chair over, which she unceremoniously thuds down behind me.

“Now go upstairs, and don’t come down until Basilio tells you to.” The warning in the man's look signals to Camille, as the blood drains from her face and fear propels her to escape. Shit, I was going to be in trouble later.

“Now, where were we? Introductions.” The man gazes at Basilio, his earlier expression replaced by one of boredom. I sit down, nervously wringing my hands in my lap.

“Daisy, this is my cousin, Dominico Sante. Dominico, this is Daisy.” Dominico. Of course. A name fit for a god.

I look between Basilio and Dominico as he introduces us, trying and failing to see the resemblance. They look nothing alike.

“Just Daisy?” This question comes from the man sitting to the left of Dominico. He scares me the most. It’s not only the scar marring his cheek and his resemblance to a Viking, but also how he looks at me. Like I am a threat that needs to be neutralized.

“You look familiar,” the Viking guy says, tilting his head to the side as he assesses me. My body reacts to being under the microscope, my heart beating frantically in my chest and my hands becoming clammy. Though god has never helped me before, I silently pray that my wig will do what it's intended to do: make me look nothing like the woman I once was.

“That is Nero,” Basilio continues, indicating towards the man with a menacing appearance. “And that is Dante,” he adds, pointing to the man on the opposite side of Dominico. He at least smiles at me and seems the least frightening of the three. However, I am well aware that appearances can be deceiving, and the charm he clearly possesses might be concealing a darker side.

“Yes, it’s just Daisy,” I reply, hoping the lie does not shine through. I glance at Nero, who leans back in his seat, his hand stroking his long beard as he continues to study me. Breaking eye contact, I look at Basilio for support and guidance in this situation. He gives me a reassuring smile before turning his gaze to Dominico, all warmth vanishing.

I am so tense that I feel like I did when I was little and had to ask my parents for something—the buildup before a storm. Silence ensues, its breadth filled with Dominico assessing me, searching my physical appearance for truth that who and what I am are indeed correct. Will he find it there? Am I that transparent to him? I should look away, not make it so easy, but I cannot.

Usually, I would avoid direct eye contact, thinking it made me less noticeable. With this man, I find myself unable to look away. He is exceptionally intriguing. And handsome. It feels as if he has been sculpted solely to be a visual extravaganza. Not in the model way that Basilio is, but in a highly primal, rugged, bad-to-the-bone manner. Handsome is the wrong word.Sexy.Hot.Delicious. These words are likely better suited.

He is undeniably an alpha male. However, when he arrived earlier, instead of having a swarm of women dancing on his lap, or engaging in more intimate activities, he declined the offer. Their disappointment was evident when I passed them during their shift change with Rosy. I could understand their reaction.

Quirking my head to the side, I wonder what kind of man he is and what line of work he is in. Perhaps he owns a strip club like Basilio. His Armani suit and Rolex watch alone suggest that he is well-off, but so is Basilio. And why does he have these two guys with him? Maybe he is famous, and these are his bodyguards? I look around, once again noticing the men dotted around the room.

“Are you famous or something?” The words escape my lips before I can stop them, accompanied by a blush.

Dominico erupts in a deep chuckle, one I wish to bottle and save so that I can open it in the privacy of my apartment at night when I am alone and relive the shiver it sends down my spine.

His gaze remains fixed on me while his words are directed at Basilio.

“Ahhh, cousin, I can now see why…” Dominico's cryptic words linger in the air as I look at Basilio, whose face pales slightly. The words appear to mean more to him than to me.

Chapter 4

Dominico

The little flower Basilio has been hiding is not what I expected. She is tiny, not even five feet two inches tall. Her short black bob contrasts sharply with her fair skin, though it doesn’t quite suit her. The sharp edges are too harsh against the innocence in her eyes. A small scar cuts across her right eyebrow, the only blemish on her face besides the slowly fading red handprint she received when she ‘fell.’ I find it curious that she is reluctant to name the culprit that even I can identify after my short time here. She probably fears retaliation.

But it is no surprise that Camille is jealous. Basilio is smitten. This woman is beautiful in a way that requires little effort, which is probably where the envy originates. I can see it in that gold digger's eyes—how she views this woman as a threat. And I doubt it is solely her beauty that has my cousin captivated. She possesses an innocence I have not seen in a long time. In our world, that is nearly unheard of. It makes me wonder how she ended up here. Yet, as innocent as she is, she is bold.

Usually, it takes me a while to discern the color of anyone’s eyes. Few either don’t dare to or cannot maintain eye contact with me for longer than a few seconds. My little flower, however, cannot seem to look away. Eyes the color of whiskey gaze at me not with fear but with curiosity, and her head tilts to the side as she assesses me. Her small hands fidget first with each other before moving to the hem of her black shirt, which has long sleeves and a very conservative style considering the environment. The other servers wear low-cut, sleeveless black uniforms—all identical. Basilio has made her the exception. Interesting. Her clothes do little to showcase or flatter her figure, which is barely discernible under the loose-fitting material. Perhaps this is what Basilio wants to achieve. Shield her beauty in a den of thieves and bad men. Alas, true beauty shines through no matter how it is wrapped. So my cousin has failed.

Looking over Basilio’s shoulder, I see two servers standing by the bar, their eyes on Daisy and their dissatisfaction evident. She wasn’t well-liked around here because Basilio had made her his pet. Her presence at this table has undoubtedly further diminished her popularity. My gaze returns to hers as her brows furrow while she looks around.

“Are you famous or something?” The words make me chuckle. This woman's naivety is quite refreshing. Dante chokes on his drink, his hand slapping his leg as he recovers, and his loud laugh interrupts the silence at the table.

“Ahhh, cousin, I can see why…” I say to Basilio, my eyes still fixed on the woman furiously blushing under my scrutiny. Basilio is in love. And not with the gold-digging whore upstairs. My peripheral vision confirms this as Basilio pales, his body language confirming that I have hit the nail on the head. I wonder what is holding him back?

“This must be the first person since that guy in Prague five years ago who doesn’t know who you are. I need to mark this day on the fuckingcalendar,” Dante snorts, humor thick in his voice.

“You clearly don’t read the news,” I say to Daisy, her face still puzzled by my capo’s words.

“I couldn’t…” she murmurs, trailing off before quickly correcting herself. “I mean, I don’t. There’s too much violence in there, and it makes me sad for the world.” An answer befitting a little lamb. She looks at Basilio for reassurance that what she is saying is okay. That irks me. That he seems to be her compass in this situation.

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