Darker than Darkness

Part 15

Haseena

If there was one thing men lacked it was the ability to do anything right.

A prime example of that?

The man I'd once called papà, who'd no doubtedly come here in hopes of rekindling things with his estranged daughter.

In truth, that was the root cause of my anxiousness. The man was an emotional weakness I'd developed at a young age when I'd allowed him to slip through my guarded walls.

Only whatever nerves I'd felt about seeing him for the first time vanish when I got a look at who he'd brought along.

How dare he.

How fucking dare he.

Anger solidifies my resolve, leaving no room for vulnerability as the devil in a tailored navy suit leads me through the crowd and towards them.

His hand along the small of my back is large, but his touch is impartial, forced even.

The soft melody of the violinist playing her song picks up, people begin to shuffle onto the dance floor while the last of New York City's riches socialites and businessmen begin to file in.

I ignore them all, still too busy eyeing the happy little family, seconds from using the blade in my barrette to stab them over and over again. Repeatedly, until all their faces are so cut up and they're forever unrecognizable.

The thought calms my anger but it seems like the universe is testing my patience again when we're stopped by a cell phone ringing. Anubhav let's go of me, pulls out his phone and when I try to read his caller ID, I realize I can't read Russian.

But to make matters worse, he excuses himself without another word, his voice turning into mix of low Russia while I'm engulfed into a conversation, I want no part in

I don't recognize any of the girls that have stopped me save for the puff faced baboon who won't seem to leave me the fuck alone. "Christie," I greet in that voice reserved for pretentious socialites.

Her face heats in obvious embarrassment. "It's Chelsea."

"Hm." I hum in that pretentious way. "I don't care."

The girls that have come along with her don't bother introducing themselves, instead they eye me like they're finally seeing the object of their gossip up close. I angle my hand so that my ring sparkles. giving them something to talk about.

"From politicians' kids to billionaires..." her eyes trail up from my ring to my face, bitterness coating her words. "For a girl that comes from nothing, you sure have a way of working up the social ladder, Haseena."

Despite my upbringing, I'd lived a relatively humbled life in university. Something that was now coming to bite me in the ass

I study the girl who'd been nothing but a leach desperate for the attention of the people I surrounded myself with. The thought of her trying and failing so hard at being devious bringing me a sense of entertainment. "Are you calling me a gold digger?"

Someone giggles, I don't bother to acknowledge it and instead hone my gaze in on the sheep doing a terrible job fitting into wolfs clothing. "If the shoe fits."

"Of course, the shoe fits " tilt my head and step into their little cult like circle. "They're custom made diamond encrusted Valentino's."

Every single pair of eyes in the circle drops from my ring to my heels that are, in fact, diamond encrusted Valentino's. A genuine smile plays on my lips as the familiar feeling of superiority engulfs me.