Empress Of Wrath, Blood And Desire

Chapter 20: A sight for sore eyes

We both exit the bathroom- if you asked me, I'd say it was painfully awkward on my end.

Marcello, on the other hand, looks as composed as ever, not a shred of shame in his entire existence.

Let's just say... I lost the game. And by lost, I mean spectacularly. If the burning heat still radiating through my body wasn't evidence enough, the looks from the people near the bathroom tell the rest.

Some glanced at us with scandalous curiosity, others with amused grins- like they heard every single scream that escaped my lips while Marcello took me with the kind of aggressive dominance I never admitted aloud that I craved.

I pride myself on not getting embarrassed easily, but this? This is new territory. I've always preferred my sins to be private.

But Marcello's privacy isn't always his priority.

Now here I am, flushed, nervous, and painfully aware that a crowd of strangers just bore witness to my not-so-private moment of ecstasy.

"Walk with honor, sweet girl," Marcello's smooth, taunting voice drifts from behind me. "Let them know exactly who that cunt belongs to."

His words ignite a fresh wave of embarrassment, and I quicken my steps, scratching the side of my head like that'll help hide my nerves.

The cool night air hits me as soon as I push through the doors, and the breeze feels unforgiving against my skin, especially considering the... bareness underneath. 

Marcello joins me outside, standing close enough that his scent- cologne, musk, and a trace of the alcohol on him wraps around me like a second skin.

He snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me tight against his warm frame.

"Why are you running, sweet girl," he murmurs, low and teasing, "when you can barely walk?"

"You embarrassed me," I grumble, eyes fixed ahead on the line of luxury cars pulling up and club-goers stepping out in waves.

He lets out a deep, wicked chuckle. "I embarrassed you?" His tone drips with amusement. "I'd say I gave them a show they won't forget."

"Is your business here over?" I cut in, desperate to change the subject and get away from the knowing stares and my awkward shuffle.

The ache between my legs hasn't subsided, and I swear I was practically hopping when I came out of that damn bathroom.

"Yes, baby," he says, his hand rubbing slow circles against the small of my back, sending a different kind of ache through me. "I got exactly what I wanted."

"And what was that?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me. I tilt my head, catching his dark, calculating gaze.

"Allies," he answers with a low rasp. "Since I killed most of the leaders I once called allies, I've made plenty of enemies. People want me dead. They want my empire burned to the ground. I have power, but power alone won't stop someone from coming for my head. I need more families to back me."

I nod slowly, taking in his words. But one question still gnaws at me.

"Marcellous," I begin cautiously, "the day I interrupted that meeting, the one that ended with those leaders dead, I overheard something. You said, 'I do not doubt I'm close to finding her kingdom...' before I barged in." I lock eyes with him. "What was that about?"

He sighs, a heavy, reluctant exhale, and turns his gaze toward the street as if weighing whether to tell me.

"Yes, Dea. Allies," Marcello says, his voice low and steady. "The leaders that I killed were supposed to be my safety net, there to back me when things went south, and I'd do the same for them. But we also had a shared goal, to find someone whose family wronged both me and them. The plan was simple, track down their palace, burn it to the ground, and take the leader's head. Whoever that might be."