Separated

Chapter 8 - Minori

New Chapter!!!

Don't we love a ball . . . Hehehe I like this setting a bit too much. 🌸🌼

Anywho, we might see our beloved characters from another story (IYKYK) once again (I miss the two so I may or may not be adding them anywhere and everywhere it works well . . . )🥹☺️

I hope you enjoy your reading time 🪻🌷
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Per my brother's words, and my agreement in doing so, I found myself standing among all the other members of crime organizations, many of which I knew of – after Ryo made me remember all faces and names. He makes it sound so easy to just remember names and faces and their wives and husbands, and their private life and their favourite child, but unlike his brain that absorbs information with ease, mine does not. It took me hours upon hours to remember the basics and then an extra more hours to recognise who I should avoid and who I can consider remotely safe.

To be fair though, how could anyone in this part of the world be considered safe? The short answer is no one.

As siblings we both avoid social interactions where possible, but not for the same reasons though. My brother just finds them a chore and a waste of time although you would never really know he thought that way from the way he presents himself. He was all charms and respect on the outside. Only those of the same kind or on the receiving end of his displeasure could see that his persona was nowhere near the character he plays out very well.

Me on the other hand, preferred quiet over loud. Personal time with people I actually care about than with those I couldn't care less if they were dying of some terminal illness. Not to mention the hazardous environment. Not one single men in this extravagant ball not own a handy weapon or few in their direct possession. In contrast, save for the women from the Taylor's organization who were weapons in their own right, wore dainty dresses that left very little to the imagination and perfected the role of looking innocent and weak. A perfect prey.

I too wore a dress which I still couldn't get used to and heels I would much rather hit someone with, but both my father and brother made me strap on a gun and a knife on each side of my thighs. If there was one saying anyone in this side of the world live by, it was 'better to be safe than sorry.'

Pretending to be engrossed in the conversations of some wives and sisters of middle-high standing men from our own organization, I look around the place to figure out my escape route to avoid the oncoming crowds that never seem to go away.

This whole place was just money thrown in the air 500 years ago. Chandeliers took their place everywhere possible, glinting and shinning the whole place in an obnoxious golden hue. The floors were draped in plush velvet carpet, my heels sinking into them every time I take a step. Several extravagant staircases made of red marble rounded their way around to access several doors from the outside which we entered upon. And classical music you would expect to be playing in a place like this filled the ballroom where several couples slowly dance along to it.

The place was actually beautiful by any societal expectation or view. Many would dream to one day take a step inside to a place like this. It provided fairytale magic and held a promise of happy ever afters.

That's of course given that the place wasn't populated with people of our kind, then no, there were no promises of happy ever afters. But rather, promises of haunting gruesome endings.

I was still attempting to figure out which door lead to the few balconies I had seen before entering the place and had tried to map out in my head to no avail when my brother excuses himself to attend to some duties that I have no doubt was the main and only reason he decided to show up here in the first place.