Page 69 of The Diávolos: Part One
Me: Never.
I look at her as I put my phone down on the table. She shakes her head at my last text and bites her bottom lip. She’s lucky we’re in a room full of people. Otherwise, I would’ve stalked over to her, bent her over the table, lifted her dress, and smacked her ass until my hand was imprinted on her skin and her pussy leaked down her thighs. If she thinks she’s getting away from me now, she’s going to get a rude awakening.
* * *
The next day,I wake up to Dion sprawled out on my couch, fast asleep. The drunk bastard didn’t even make it to the guest bedroom. He was so wasted last night that it was me, in fact, who had to babysit him. He could barely walk and was slurring his words for most of the night. I was surprised he didn’t do anything embarrassing. Probably because he didn’t want to ruin Aria’s night, even though he wished it never happened.
I walk straight to the kitchen to make coffee. I had quite a few drinks last night, but I was sober enough by the end. As the coffee brews, I walk over to Dion and punch him in the gut. He lets out a loud groan and flips onto his side, clutching his stomach in agony.
“Wake up,maláka.”
“Ti sto diáolo???”he swears. What the fuck???
“I need you to get the fuck out of my house so I can start my day,” I bark.
“Always such great hospitality,” he rasps. I laugh.
“Come on. You need to drink some water and coffee before you croak in my living room.”
Dion reluctantly sits up and rubs his palms over his eyes. “At this moment, I’d rather die,” he mumbles.
I hand him a cup of coffee and a bottle of water, and I go back to the kitchen to make breakfast. I think back to the engagement party. Angelica and I shared glances all night, but we didn’t interact again after I sent her that last text. I watched her while she awkwardly made small talk with her father, chatted with family and friends, and danced with Aria. Gianis followed her around the whole night, his body not leaving her side once, except to let her go to the bathroom. The prick was tailing her around like a puppy. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was a threat, but he knows better than to provoke me, especially after the altercation we had. Angelica didn’t seem affected by him whatsoever either, so I relaxed and enjoyed the show.
Dion and I quietly eat breakfast next to each other, his head hanging low as he tries to avoid any form of light. I finish my food first, so I put my dishes in the sink. The clattering sound makes Dion wince and glare at me. I shrug and head to the bathroom to get ready. I didn’t bother showering last night. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t ready to wash Angelica’s smell off me. I want her scent to be permanently etched on my skin like a tattoo.
And the only way for that to happen is to see her again.
“A knife is only as good as the one who yields it.” –Patrick Ness
It’s the morning after Aria’s engagement party.
It was late by the time the party wrapped up, so I stayed back and helped the staff clear things away, much to Aria’s family’s protests. Her parents are hosting a big brunch this morning, so I slept over to avoid the back and forth.
As usual, I wake up with Evan embedded in my mind, and what happened last night didn’t help matters. I can still feel his tongue and fingers inside of me. A pool of heat settles between my legs at the thought. It’s way too early to be feeling like this, but I can’t get enough. Evan is slowly, but surely on his way to owning me in my entirety, and I can’t even bring myself to be mad at it.
I get out of bed and wrap a robe over my nightgown. After quickly brushing my teeth in the adjoining bathroom, I leave the guest room to find Aria. I walk over to her bedroom across the hall and knock on the door. “Come in,” she says, her voice muffled.
I crack the door open and slip inside her room only to find her laying face down in bed, still wearing her dress from last night. She turns around to face me, and it looks like she was painted on by a two-year-old.
“Oh my god. You look like a trainwreck!” I exclaim. She only groans in response.
I know that yesterday was hard for her to stomach. She had to fake a smile all night and pretend to be happy in front of friends, family, and strangers. She was miserable and couldn’t wait for the night to end before it even began. She had a minor panic attack earlier in the day while getting ready, and I had to calm her down and promise that everything would be okay. I wish I could’ve stopped the engagement party from happening.
“You reek of booze, Ri. I didn’t even see you drink anything other than a glass of champagne all night. When did you manage to get drunk?” I ask.
Her arm blindly reaches under her comforter as she fishes for something. She finally pulls out an empty twenty-six-ounce bottle of tequila.
My face twists in horror. “Please tell me you didn’t drink that whole bottle yourself.”
“Mmmmughhhh no, there was only half left when I found it at the bar,” she manages to croak.
“Aria, that’s still too much. You’re hungover and your whole family is waiting to host your fiancé’s family for brunch.”
“I don’t care anymore,” she groans into her palms.
“Okay,” I say, defeated. “Let’s get you cleaned up and out of this dress before anyone sees you.”
I help her out of bed and lead her into the bathroom so she can take a shower.
