Alek

Chapter 5: Mae Kazimi

Chapter 5: Mae Kazimi

Alek Russo glares at me over the brim of his cup, black demon eyes piercing mine.

Last night, when I got home, I had a small red fancy envelope waiting for me at my doorstep. I had known who it belonged to before I even had the chance to open it.

Dear Mae Kazimi,

I, Tommasso Russo, invite you to my private party I am hosting tomorrow night to thank you for saving my son's life. I would be immensely pleased to see you there.

Sincerely,

Tommasso

In other words, it was an order calling for my presence.

And I could not say no.

And so, here I am, sitting amongst some of the richest men and women in the house of the most dangerous Italian mobster to ever live.

So much fun!

I've been dining with the Russo family and their friends for a while now, sitting under a large golden chandelier in their huge dining room. Its black walls seem to stretch upwards for miles and the polished black floors glint with sparkle. The table is long with Tomasso, Alek's father sitting at the head and Alek's stepmother sitting across.

The room is full of chatter.

But I have not spoken all night.

"Excuse me," I murmur, forcing a smile towards Tomasso. "I need to use the washroom."

Tomasso looks up, his face spreading in a wide smile before he gestures to Alek, "Show our guest the way, will you son?"

Alek sets down his utensils and gets to his feet without a reply. From the tension on his face, I can tell he doesn't like his father's request.

I follow Alek down the hall, straightening my black blazer that I wear on top of my black sleeveless top. I've painted my nails black and worn my jewelry, two silver necklaces and 2 rings on each hand. I've learned that silver suits my brown skin the best.

I've made sure I've dressed to impress.

The hallways of the Russo mansion are horribly long, polished and clean, not a speck of dirt in sight. It's like the cleaners never leave this place and spend nights cleaning every day.

"How are you enjoying this fine dinner, Alek?" I ask, a hint of sarcasm in my voice as we stop outside the washroom door.

He turns to me, eyes burning, "Get out of my house."

I raise my eyebrows and gasp, pretending to be immensely hurt, "Woah! Such hatred is not good for the heart, Russo!"

He scoffs, sharp jaw clenching before he begins to make his way back. But I grab his left arm before he walks past me.

"Alek," I say, flicking my eyes upwards. He's tall. Very tall. "It's not kind to be rude to your esteemed guest who also saved your life. Twice."

"What do you want," He shoves my hand away as if my touch has burnt him.

"Nothing," I smile cheerfully. "It's just been so long since we've seen each other. I really really missed you."

Alek's lips twitch in annoyance as he glares down at me, leaning against the opposite wall as if he knows I'm not going to let him just walk away.

"The feeling isn't mutual," he says, crossing his arms. "You're like a fly that keeps buzzing in my ear. It's getting quite annoying."

I try not to feel insulted, but it's hard. It's not every day I get compared to a fly.