NEFARIOUS; AN UNLAWFUL DEVOTION

9◽

◽ MIND FUCK ◽

◽THIRD PERSON'S POV◽

The room was full of too many dangerous men. Another boring day—just another minute of her life spent in the wrong place. Marian navigated the sea of unfamiliar faces, hating how most of them looked so normal. She wondered how many people had fallen victim to them, oblivious to the true nature of the masks they wore. She didn’t want to be anywhere near them, but she had come down to see Marco.

Somehow, she was getting more attached to him, despite his unpredictable moods.

She knew he would be busy. After all, this gathering was only a veiled threat to a rival cartel that had been distributing firearms in their territory. Funny how even they followed some rules. It was a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed.

The violence was relentless, but they had rules.

A man bumped into her, causing her to stumble. She quickly grabbed the table beside her to steady herself.

Her hand instinctively went to her stomach—a habit she’d developed whenever she was startled, as if to make sure the baby was still okay. "I’m so sorry," the man apologized, eyeing her curiously. "Hmm, I haven’t seen your face before," he added, trying to strike up a conversation that only made Marian more uncomfortable.

She didn’t want to talk to a drug lord, hired killers, or gun dealers. She just wanted to be anywhere but here. With a quick apology, she excused herself.

Nothing about today was special. She was only here because she had nothing to do upstairs. She hadn’t even bothered to dress properly, just thrown on one of the dresses provided for her when she’d first arrived. She was out of place. Noticing no familiar faces, she decided to head back to her room, only to spot Lorenzo talking to a few men she recognized from before.

She approached him, relieved to see someone she knew. "I didn’t know you’d be here today."

Lorenzo shook his head. "I didn’t know Marco would let you out of his room. This isn’t a safe place for you."

Tired of being treated like a child, Marian picked up a drink from a nearby glass table. "You said you don’t drink, right?" Marian noted as she reached for the cup. "That’s fruit punch," he said, but before he could continue, Marian downed the drink in one gulp.

She grimaced at the sour taste, and Lorenzo's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh my God, you shouldn’t have done that!" he exclaimed. "Call Marco. I’ll take her back to the room."

Marian didn’t understand his sudden panic—he was usually so laid-back. "Please don’t lock me in here alone again. I’ll die of boredom!" she pleaded, but the door shut firmly behind her.

"That was rude," she muttered, glancing around the room. It felt stuffy, even though the air conditioner was on full blast. She waved off the odd feeling, walking toward the only thing she admired in Marco’s room: the figurine on his shelf.

The door opened, and Marco entered, locking it behind him as he made his way toward her. Relief washed over Marian at the sight of him, and conversation suddenly felt easy. "I feel so hot right now," she said.

Marco hummed in acknowledgment.

"You should kiss me," Marian blurted out.

"No," he replied, though his tone was teasing.

"Just once, and I won’t ask again," she bargained, inching closer.

"Zorrita, you shouldn’t go around begging to be fucked while carrying my baby," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.