Blade

Chapter 22: Insecurity

Sienna

I might be the daughter of a mafia leader, with a beauty that leaves every man staring, but I can't shake the insecurity that lurks in the deepest corners of my mind. People might think I have it all, and in many ways, they would be right. Yet a small part of me remains broken, shattered, and hidden in the dark recesses of my heart.

Since I was born into this world, I've slept with a handful of men, but I've never truly dated anyone. I never saw the point in being with someone who only wants to use me when it suits him, rather than love me for who I am.

The sex I had regularly in high school and college was always meant to be one-time only, but what's the point when all you do is hope for the best, waiting for the right guy to come along and sweep you off your feet? It's kind of pointless anyway. That feeling is dead to me.

Watching the beautiful women glide around the room with champagne glasses in hand sparks a flicker of jealousy inside me, especially since most of their attention is on Blade.

Maybe it's a woman's beauty that makes a man fall in love with her. If she isn't beautiful, he treats her like trash. I guess that's why Blade doesn't like me, not that I care if he does. But I can't lie; I don't like the way they stare at him. I feel like ripping their eyes out just for daring to.

I have never felt this way, never been so possessive over any man like I am with Blade, and it's consuming me. To distract myself, I take a sip of wine, letting my gaze linger on him as he sits dangerously close. Heat radiates from him, setting my body ablaze.

Our bodies barely touch, yet the faintest brush sends a jolt across my skin, making my heart stutter.

Blade doesn't seem to be paying attention to the conversation between the two men who joined our table earlier. His gaze is fixed on the glass of cocktail in front of him. I never pegged Blade as a cocktail drinker since he usually sticks to beer or whiskey.

The drink is a mix of Gatorade, Smirnoff Ice, and vodka-an okay combination-but he just stares at it, his eyes swirling with conflicting emotions. His lower lip trembles slightly, yet he bites down on it and clenches his fists tightly.

Since the two men don't seem to notice Blade's distraction, I place my drink back on the table and lean closer to whisper in his ear.

"Are you okay?" I can't help but ask. His cologne drifts into my senses, clouding my thoughts. I try to ignore the surge of emotions as my fingers brush lightly against Blade's clenched hands.

What is wrong with me?

He flinches at my touch, eyes wide, scanning his surroundings before drawing in a deep breath.

"Is something wrong?" My voice comes out soft, laced with concern, and I'm shocked by it myself.

His face immediately hardens, emotionless, as if he's built a wall to hide his feelings, leaving me frowning in confusion.

"It's nothing. I'm fine," he replies curtly, his tone sharp and dangerous.

I decide to drop it, not wanting to be scolded in front of everyone.

"That's unbelievable," Blade interrupts at our table, pretending he's been listening all along.

I roll my eyes and stand, excusing myself from the table, but neither of them looks my way.

"Excuse me, where's the restroom?" I ask the waitress carrying a tray of tempting dishes.

"It's at the end of that hallway," she replies politely, pointing toward the corridor lined with several doors.