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HALLEY'S COMET - BILLIE EILISH ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯
Chapter twenty eight
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"dont wait for me"
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"Are you nervous?" Alessandro asked as we stepped into the grand hall. His voice was low, almost teasing, but his sharp eyes didn't miss a thing. "Your hands are sweaty," he added, letting his hands slide off my waist before taking one of mine.
"No. Why would I be?" I replied, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to sound confident. I quickly wiped my damp palm against the fabric of my dress, avoiding his gaze.
The truth was, I was nervous. Terrified, actually. The room was dripping with wealth and power, filled with people who exuded dominance with every step. I'd grown up in privilege, so lavish venues and elegantly dressed crowds weren't new to me. But this wasn't just any gathering.
These people were killers.
Almost everyone here had blood on their hands, more than I could even imagine. Alessandro had warned me about it before we arrived, but being here, surrounded by them, was an entirely different experience. The men didn't even bother hiding their guns, holstered openly beneath tailored suits. And their wives—so delicate, so innocent-looking—stood by their sides like ornaments, as if the danger clinging to their husbands didn't touch them.
"Don't be scared of them," Alessandro murmured, tilting my chin up with two fingers so I'd meet his gaze. His dark eyes softened, but only for a moment. "I wouldn't bring you here if I thought you were in danger. You know that, right?"
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
"If they so much as lay a hand on you," his voice dropped to a menacing whisper, "they won't live long enough to regret it."
By now, I was used to Alessandro's threats. They still sent chills down my spine, not because I doubted him, but because I knew he meant every word. This was who he was. A part of me still struggled to reconcile with that, but I accepted it.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his brow furrowed in concern.
"Yes, I'm fine," I lied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.
I wasn't fine. Not even close.
The entire evening, Alessandro moved effortlessly through the crowd, talking to powerful, dangerous men, his demeanor calm and composed. I stayed close, glued to his side, trying to blend in while their predatory gazes lingered on me far too long. Alessandro noticed—how could he not? The way his grip tightened around my waist every time someone looked at me too long spoke volumes.
