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Aelia
"Can't we just shoot him and get it over with?" I whisper in Dante's ear.
His hand at my hip squeezes, though I don't know if that's to get me to shut up or because he agrees. Perching on his lap while he gambles isn't exactly the way I wanted to spend my night, and I was already exhausted when my father showed up.
"He's hurt," I breathe and Dante shudders.
I'm not trying to turn him on, but his cock hardens even more, poking my ass. His hand slides in my hair, forcing my head back. His teeth scrape up my throat, then he tilts my head away and I catch my father's eyes. I force my face into an emotionless mask. If he gets wind that I'm actually enjoying this, he'll do something to Dante. Jenkins won't interfere, not when I'm pretty sure Dante's money is keeping the Guild afloat at the moment, but my father is unpredictable. He always has been.
"Where?" he grunts softly.
He tucks my face back into his neck, skimming his fingers down my side. When he reaches my thigh, he digs his nails in, probably leaving marks on my skin. It's a common move he's used recently to readjust my skirt, covering my body from other's prying eyes. I wiggle back to help, draping my arm around his shoulder as I do.
"Shoulder, maybe. Right arm stiff."
Dante throws some chips into the pot, not bothering to respond. He doesn't need to. He'll observe Anders and we'll talk about it later. It's become routine at this point. I don't know what else Dante is waiting for, what he's searching for coming to all these events, but I stopped asking. Honestly, I don't think he knows himself.
"When you going to get rid of your bit and upgrade, Cruz?" Byron calls from the other side of the table.
Dante taps my wrist, and I slide from his lap. Peeking from under my lashes, I watch Byron's eyebrows climb up his forehead as I sink to my knees between Dante’s legs.
"Why would I upgrade when she's obedient to a fault?" Dante says coldly.
He taps my shoulder, and I crawl back into his lap, tucking my head under his chin. I hated the lessons, as I called them, at first. Every time Dante would teach me another command—a pinch of his fingers, a tap of his hand, a nod of his head—his face would morph into one I didn't recognize.
When I finally mentioned it, he admitted to having to distance himself from everything, even me. After, he'd tuck me into the bed, holding me long past when he assumed I fell asleep. I don't mind doing this, but he doesn't believe me. I wish we were anywhere else, learning how to navigate the things we like together.
Out of everything I've endured, this feels like I'm in control. It's silly, since he's the one directing my movements, but not having to think, to worry, about anything because he'll take care of it is liberating. I'm used to constantly being on high alert, waiting for the next person to ambush me. I can't do anything about their treatment of me, but I sure as hell can anticipate it.
Byron's booming laugh washes over me, making me tense. I wouldn't put it past the man to try to steal me away, expecting me to go with him willingly. Men like him convince themselves that the women in this place secretly crave their touch. We're just playing hard to get. He's almost worse than the ones who take without thought. At least I can see them coming. I know what to expect, but with Byron it's all a game.
Byron moves closer when a woman curses violently as she loses and vacates the seat next to Dante. There aren't many women who are members in the Guild, but the ones who come to these events are callous and cold. Men have made the mistake of trying to take them and usually end up dead.
As the woman stomps away, she glances over her shoulder, glaring at me as if I'm the one who took all her money. She can't blame Dante, so she'll take it out on me.
"Cruz, when are you going to get me a higher status? I've been languishing, trying to get a seat on the council for six months now, and I can't even get a meeting with the man upstairs," Byron says, leaning close to us. His hot breath hits the back of my neck, and I sink my teeth into Dante's neck.
Dante shuffles me around until I'm straddling him, his free hand gripping my ass. At least I can rest my chin on his other shoulder instead of being subjected to Byron's nastiness.
"You know the price, Michaels."
"But I don't have anyone," he whines, throwing his hand down. He sounds like a toddler, stomping his foot because he can't have ice cream before dinner.
"I doubt Jenkins will allow you, then."
"Word on the street is you didn't need to turn someone over."
"I'm not at liberty to discuss my induction into the upper levels of the Guild." It's a line Dante has used before, but I doubt it'll work this time.
"I'm the one who brought you in, Cruz. You owe me," Byron spits out. "If you won't help me advance, then you'll pay your debt with her."
Byron's sweaty hand grips my arm, yanking me toward him. Dante's tightens his grip on me, his cards scattering across the floor. I cling to him, clamping my lips tight to keep my cry of pain from escaping. Dante's foot lashes out, kicking Byron in the kneecap, and the man releases his hold on me. Dante stands, tucking me behind him as he faces off against Byron.
Byron stumbles to his feet, grinning as he holds his hands out as if to fend off Dante.
"Settle down, Cruz. I'm just playing." He hobbles a step back. Obviously, Dante didn't kick him hard enough.
I press my forehead against Dante's back, not wanting to see what else is coming. He steps toward Byron, leaving me fumbling with whether to follow or let him deal with the asshole.
