Serpentine Desires

The prey- 142

I never imagined it.

The violin sang its mournful tune, and I swayed to it—not of my own accord, mind you, but because Judas Romanovski, the devil in a three-piece suit, was steering me across the candlelit floor like some twisted waltz master. His palms rested on my waist—shamefully large—and my cheek pressed against his chest. Solid. Warm. Infuriating. I must've been hallucinating. Or drunk. Definitely drunk.

"This feels illegal," I muttered. The words tumbled out, and I didn't even care. Liquid courage for the win. "You're like... evil or something, and here you are, waltzing like some romantic hero in a bad mafia romance novel." 

He chuckled. "Evil? Is that what you think of me, ptichka?"

"Oh, don't act innocent. You probably have some villain checklist. What is it? Mysterious past? Check. Suit that screams 'don't trust me'? Double check. Unfairly good cologne? Triple check. And that jawline?" I raised a finger and poked it. "Dangerous. I should sue your genetics."

His chest vibrated with laughter. "You wound me. I'm just a man enjoying a dance with a beautiful woman."

"Bullshit!" I exclaimed, pulling back to glare up at him. "You're Judas Romanovski. You're not good for my heart. Literally or figuratively. You don't even let me talk to my mother."

He tilted his head, an annoyingly amused smirk tugging at his lips. "I didn't stop you, little bird."

I blinked at him in confusion. Was this that much easy? All I had to do was ask and not beg on my knees and cry for him to let me talk to my mother? I thought he'd say no, that he'd brush me off like he always did when I tried to talk about my past.

"You... are serious, right?" He didn't respond just tilted his head.

My mouth fell open. "I—thank you." The words tumbled out before I could stop them. I felt a strange mix of gratitude and suspicion knotting in my stomach, but for once, I didn't want to question his motives.

He didn't reply, just watched me with that maddening calm, and the silence pushed me to fill it. "Why did you agree?" He twirled me around and caught me in a way my back was pressed to his chest and his warm breath teased my neck.

"Because you asked."

That didn't feel like the whole truth, but I let it go because right now, I barely could process anything "And what about your family?" I asked hesitantly, quite braver cause he wasn't facing me.

His lips against my neck trailed lower and lower until he was practically licking my skin. "You know them already."

I unconsciously leaned back, letting all my weight be cradled into his hold. "Not everyone."

His lips faltered. It was subtle, but it was there, a crack in the armour that made me think I'd stepped somewhere I shouldn't have. My chest tightened as unease crept in.

"Why?" I pressed. "Don't I deserve to know—"

"Zayne," he whispered against my neck.

I froze. "What?"

"His name is Zayne," he repeated, leaning forward slightly and biting my ear lobe. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

I swallowed, my throat dry. "I know," I admitted quietly. "Krystina told me, but... what happened?"

He turned me in his arms until I was facing him. His cold eyes seemed to pin me down. "Shit happens, ptichka."

I nodded slowly, though the agitation in my chest didn't fade. My heart thudded. And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that this conversation had opened a door, even if it was only a crack.