𝗕𝗨𝗖𝗞𝗬 𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗦

Gangsta's Paradise

SONG REQUEST FOR THIS CHAPTER: FAT FUNNY FRIEND (SADDER) by MADDIE ZAHM

Story recommendation from AlejandraMartnezFlor

1, 221 Words

If anyone had told me a year ago that I'd be standing next to Bucky Barnes—the most feared name in Washington's criminal underworld—I'd have laughed them out of the room. Me? The chubby maid who scrubbed bloodstains out of marble floors and tried to make herself invisible whenever his boots echoed down the hall?

But there I was. Dressed in a navy-blue gown that clung a little too tightly to my stomach, my arms bare, my curls pinned in a loose updo that my nerves were already unraveling. Bucky's hand was at the small of my back as we entered the grand ballroom of the Carlton Estate. The chandeliers sparkled like they were mocking me, the music elegant, the eyes piercing.

I could feel their stares.

I tried to focus on Bucky instead. The firm set of his jaw, the cold glint in his steel-blue eyes that intimidated everyone except me. His tuxedo fit like it was molded to him, black on black, with just the tiniest hint of a silver pocket square.

He looked like sin and salvation all at once.

And I... I looked like a mistake he'd regret in the morning.

"You okay?" he murmured as we moved through the crowd, his voice so low it was almost a growl. He leaned down, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. He squeezed my waist lightly, the kind of squeeze that said *"I know you're lying, but I'll let it slide—for now."*

This was our first public appearance together. The first time the world got to see that Bucky Barnes, the man who could have any woman he wanted, had chosen me. Not the tall, model-thin women who lined the perimeters of his cocktail parties. Not the ones with legs for days and hollow stares that matched their morals. Me.

The maid he used to walk past without looking. Until one night when I found him bleeding in the hallway and patched him up with trembling hands and whispered curses.

He saw me then. And he never stopped.

But tonight... tonight, I felt like I was back in that hallway. Bare, trembling, and bleeding invisible wounds I couldn't stitch shut.

The ball was in full swing now. People circled Bucky like moths to a flame, but no one dared get too close. Not until they arrived.

Three women. All of them stunning in the most terrifying way. Slit dresses, high heels, and eyes sharpened like knives. I recognized two of them from past events—associates of rival families, the type who pretended to be friendly but carried poison in their smiles.

One of them, a blonde with lips as red as blood, sauntered right up to Bucky. She ignored me completely.

"James," she purred, placing her manicured hand on his arm. "You've been hiding. Washington's missed your... touch."

Bucky's arm didn't move. His face remained unreadable. "I've been busy."

"With her?" She finally glanced at me, a smile twitching at her lips, half-amused, half-pitying. "Didn't realize you were into... curves."

The other girls giggled behind their hands like high school mean girls in designer gowns.

Bucky's grip on my waist tightened, but he didn't say anything yet. Just looked at me, his thumb stroking gentle circles on my hip like a reminder—I'm here. I see you.