Cassian let the massive doors click shut with smooth finality.
High above the dance floor, the elite in the VIP lounge remained perfectly seated. They were untouchable guests, heavily protected by Cassian’s political favour.
Casual slaughter was standard in mafia theatre. However, the unexpected arrival of the Devil’s supposed fiancée had given them sothing fresher, and far more thrilling, to gossip about.
Was she truly important? Or was he rely playing along with the rumour? Cassian Crown was famous for being unreadable. No one ever knew whether he was controlling the board or rely letting others believe they were the ones controlling him. That uncertainty was what made him dangerous.
Cixi forced her numb legs to move. She closed the distance between herself and Cassian.
"I want to leave with my friends too," Cixi murmured, unsure whether such a thing was even possible. Since Binge had spoken to him and then left, she decided she would do the sa and try to negotiate her own escape. "I’m feeling really sleepy," she added, knowing that was only part of the truth. The other reason was that she absolutely did not want to be left alone with him. And as for saving the others, Cassian always seed to have an excuse ready for every situation. Even so, she resolved to try one last ti. "You don’t really want to kill anyone."
Cassian stared down at her beautifully pale face. He tilted his perfect head, a faint smile curving his lips.
"My sweet fiancée is concerned about the state of my karma." he said softly.
Then, horrifyingly, his elegant amusent vanished completely. His voice dropped into sothing cold and lifeless.
"I have clearly not been dangerous enough," Cassian breathed, his pitch-black eyes looking darker than ever. "I was attacked on my own territory... twice. It is officially ti to remind the underworld what a true Devil can do."
At his chilling words, the mory flashed through Cixi’s mind: the bridge where he had been crushed and shoved into the river, and the terrace where he had been stabbed and shot to death.
In that unhinged mont, sowhere deep inside, she understood him.
And sowhere else, she did not want to.
Because no matter the circumstances, human lives were precious.
Everyone deserved to live after witnessing so many deaths.
Well, almost everyone.
Except perhaps Cixi, who no longer wanted to die, yet could not say she was excited to live either.
"You are staying with , love. Your friends are free to go."
After saying that, Cassian turned his broad, powerful shoulders away from her with effortless smoothness.
He stared directly at the trembling crowd, still trapped helplessly on the club floor. "Answer ," Cassian’s beautiful voice rang out sharply above the frightened whimpers. "When you watched my woman being violently groped by so man... what exactly were you doing?"
The massive crowd froze, and their heads dropped even lower.
"You enjoyed it. You enthusiastically enjoyed the show while she was being assaulted. So of you were even looking for a chance to try your hand at her." Then he gave a dangerous little chuckle.
One wealthy woman finally decided to speak. "Since when exactly does the mafia care so passionately about protecting moral values?"
Cassian slowly lifted his gaze to her. "Do you genuinely believe monsters do not possess strict morals?" he mused smoothly, his elegant voice dripping with poison. "The darkest killers often follow the most unbreakable codes. Take the infamous mafia hitman, Richard Kuklinski. The Iceman slaughtered over a hundred n for profit without batting an eye, yet he operated under one rigid rule: he never laid a violent hand on a woman or a child. Or consider Pedro Rodrigues, the terrifying serial killer who murdered over seventy people," Cassian added casually, thoroughly enjoying the psychological tornt spreading through the room. "He refused to kill innocent families. He hunted rapists and murderers almost exclusively, firmly believing his atrocities were morally righteous.
Another man refused to kill mothers because he believed motherhood deserved reverence. One assassin I knew personally refused contracts during religious holidays because he considered it disrespectful to spill blood on holy days."
Then Cassian looked straight back at Cixi, and in her wide, light-grey eyes he caught the glimr of a realisation beginning to unfold. He was not taking these lives purely for amusent. In his own warped way, he was doing it for her sake.
Did that make him a mobster with a code of ethics? Was he comparing himself to a serial killer? Is he a serial killer?
Cixi found herself wondering what he truly was. Was he angry on her behalf? Had he already attached so twisted sentint to her fake claim of being his fiancée? Why had he not tried to verify whether a single word she said was true? He had simply believed her — just like that.
Why?
"You are all very lucky that I feel generous enough to explain myself tonight," Cassian said, and the smooth cruelty of his tone returned at once. "And special thanks goes to my beloved."
He gave Cixi a perfect smile before returning back to the others.
"Now, where is the gratitude? Clap for my fiancée. Go on."
The crowd erupted in awkward and forced applause as they stared at the floor, too afraid to look at Cixi.
Once the applause died away, the first wealthy man spoke again. "There must be so way we can keep the secret and still be spared mutilation or death. You just said you have morals. Can’t we—"
Cassian chuckled softly and shook his head. "You have misunderstood sothing important. I am not like those moral killers." His smile sharpened. "You are in this situation only because she is my beloved fiancée, and she matters a great deal. Besides, I fully intend to make an example of you tonight. I predict that from tomorrow onwards, any public assault on a woman will make people think twice. Today’s deaths might encourage soone, sowhere, to step in and help instead of watching."
His smirk deepened.
"This," he said, "is the social change I am about to initiate."
The instant Cassian’s last words fell into silence, horror overtook Cixi’s face. It was not his threat that made her blood run cold. No... for the first ti since the curse had claid her, she saw several Reapers standing within the club, not through the wandering of her soul, but with her own eyes while fully inside her body.
User Comments
0 comments from readers