The bass in the Vante club was heavy enough to rattle ribs.
Neon strobed across sweating bodies, gold light melting into bruised purple, all sliding over skin like warm honey.
So different from the freshness of the flowers in Elijah's garden, the air was filled with a mixture of expensive perfumes wrapped in the layer of vodka spilled freely.
Instead of booking a private room like last time, Alexei leaned against the bar with a glass of vodka.
His shirt was unbuttoned till his tattooed chest was in perfect view.
A curl of the lips that looked more like a smirk than a smile promised things no one should want but everyone secretly did.
While running her polished, red nails over his tattoos, the girl —was her name Yulia? Yara?—was whispering something in his ear, but he wasn't listening.
He had one hand around her waist, his thumb tracing lazy, meaningless circles.
While nodding here and there, his gaze slid over the crowd like a predator scanning for action.
And yet…
For all the pounding music and half-naked desperation on the dance floor, his mind drifted somewhere that was the polar opposite.
Back to the frostbitten air outside that little house. Back to the man who had stared him down with eyes the color of sharpened steel.
The priestling.
Alexei smiled to himself, sipping his drink.
He could still hear the flatness in Elijah's voice when he said, 'Brother should visit the church. The lust demon is screaming too loudly.'
God, that had been delicious.
"So, cute, really."
Yulia or Yara flushed red at the compliment.
"Oh, you," she swatted at his chest with a shy smile. "That... I-I was saying..."
See? Most people would end up stumbling over their own tongues when he smiled at them.
What can I do when I am just that charming? Totally my genes at work.
Elijah, though, had slipped the blade in without even blinking. Without the slightest will to know him more, he had just gone off to that little hut of his.
Come to think of it, wasn't he like a real-life witch? Living in the middle of a forest and fighting off the evil.
A superhero then?
Ah, fairy suited him better actually. No?
The itch of curiosity started to burn under his skin.
It was maddening enough that Elijah had made him run away like a coward.
However, those words of some lust demon or something made him aware that perhaps that was what had prompted him to keep his distance from Elijah.
Just like how demons would be terrified of the saint, his inner being was rotten enough to be wary of someone divine like him.
But after that head pat, his thoughts of running away had dulled, taken over by a new thought.
The girl in his arms shifted, bringing her mouth to his.
He kissed her because it was easy, because her lipstick tasted faintly of cherries and her moan vibrated pleasantly against his teeth.
But in his mind, her face blurred as many other faces before her. They were so normal.
Despite being pretty, that was all they were, well-dressed dolls. It was nice to play with, and he wasn't even that picky about his needs.
Any hole would do as long as they were obedient, or he could make them if they were into that kind of kinks.
This girl was obviously the submissive one.
"Want me to tie you up, baby?"
A pleasant moan was answer enough.
Too easy to read that it was almost getting boring. But then again, it could happen when one was taught to learn from the subtle body signs.
The top of his head somehow still retained that zipping sensation. Just a mere contact, and his insides had fluttered.
So much like the time when he put a live wire into his mouth just to taste the electricity.
Good old times. He chuckled into the kiss.
"What?" she giggled when he pulled back.
"Nothing, baby," he murmured, brushing her hair back with blood-stained fingers that weren't blood-stained anymore—though he could still feel the ghost of it under his nails. "Just thinking of someone."
She pouted, playful. "Should I be jealous?"
"Who can be jealous of the holy?"
Her glossy eyes widened. Then, she burst into loud laughter, even throwing her head back.
"Oh, you are so funny."
What was funny? He raised his brow only for her to shake her head with a playful smile.
Maybe it was the word 'holy' that sounded so funny coming from his mouth when he wasn't using it as a curse.
"My place?" she asked.
Who was Alexei to deny an offer from a beauty herself?
With all the screaming still ringing in his ears, he would very much like to drown them out with some sexy moans.
Throwing his head back, he downed the entire liquid before slamming it on the counter.
"Sure, let's go," he said, licking his lips to savor the burn of vodka.
Author's Note — from Alexei Vetrov
Ah, so you've decided to keep reading. Brave little thing.
Let's get something straight, baby— I'm not "a bit unhinged." I'm a lot unhinged. The kind of man your mother warns you about and your best friend dares you to meet anyway.
This isn't some sweet, slow-burn romance where we spend a hundred chapters staring longingly at each other over coffee. No, no. This is a dark romance. The kind with teeth. The kind where love tastes a little like blood.
And since this is a mafia story, you'll see things — blood, gore, violence — the whole beautiful mess.
I won't hold your hand and whisper a warning before every scene, okay darling?
You'll just have to decide if you're strong enough to keep your eyes open.
Now, if you're still here… well, you might just be my kind of person.
See you in the next chapter. Don't make me wait~