Naomi Belle

"Did you hear? The guy that tried hitting on you last night," Pierre said the second I stepped out of my room that morning. He looked grim, voice hushed like he was carrying state secrets. "They found his body mangled by the river this morning. Looks like that guy offended someone he shouldn't have. Let's not go back there again, it's too dangerous. We're not cold-blooded and cruel like those people. I swear, there's zero humanity."

Well then, wait until you find out who I am, brother dear.

"Ok," I said lightly, pretending not to care. "I'm going to get dressed and ready for the day."

"Of course! Sorry to bother you." He gave me one of his warm smiles and headed down the hall.

I smiled back sweetly, closing the door behind me. Then I went straight for my laptop, slid on my headphones, and connected the call.

"Colin?"

His video popped up instantly. Colin's smug grin filled the screen. "Hé, la patronne, I see you've slept well. How does it feel being recognized by a rich family like them?"

"Not bad. The mother cries a lot. Apparently, there's going to be some family reunion party for me soon." I kept my tone dry, because if I didn't, I'd gag.

"What a happy event. How can we miss it? What's the dress code?" Colin asked, eyes glinting.

"You can't go. Do you want to scare these people to death?" I said.

"What?" His disappointment was loud, sharp, like a kicked puppy. And I got it. I'd known Colin since before I even knew myself. He was always there—hovering, shadowing, protecting. My little brother in all but blood. No one laid a hand on him unless they wanted to deal with me, and in return I was the one he trusted more than anyone. People always thought we'd end up married, but Colin was as gay as the rainbow, not that anyone could tell unless he told them.

"Don't take it to heart. They're not people who like gangsters like us," I said.

"So... arrive with style and flare to add momentum. Got it."

"Colin, do not show up here."

"Naomi!" he whined, dragging my name out. "It's my fault the Americans don't dress like us!"

"It's not about the dress code, you queen. I'll party with you as soon as I can sneak out of this lame-ass family reunion. Just be on standby."

"Ugh, whatever," he scoffed, crossing his arms. He'd still show up. I knew it. And there was nothing I could do to stop him. But that was Colin for you. Impossible to order around. He was lucky I loved him like a brother.

⸻

I sneezed violently as I finished replicating that perfect stewardess makeup. Powder. Satan's invention. And then there was the all-white outfit laid out for me. White. I hated white parties. It was like walking into a crime scene wearing evidence.

"You ready?" Pierre cracked the door, peeking in.

"Yes." I forced a smile. Let's get this shit over with. I need a cigarette, like, now.

"Oh, you look so pretty," Mom gushed as I stepped out. Her eyes shone like she'd birthed me yesterday. "As I thought, this style truly suits you the best."

I felt like a doll again. The white dress was elegant, but it screamed adolescence, innocence. I was twenty-five for fuck's sake. If this woman wanted a child, she should've just fucking bought one.

"You look so much like your mother," Dad said warmly as we entered the massive party room.

Whatever.

"NOW ANNOUNCING THE ARRIVAL OF THE NEWEST BELLE FAMILY MEMBER, NAOMI BELLE!!!" a booming voice bellowed.

I flinched as the sound crashed over me. The entire room turned to look. Heads swiveled, whispers rustled like dry leaves, and a wave of clapping rose around me. Curious stares, appraising glances, people craning for a better look.

And then my eyes found him—Smith. With his idiot shadow, John, lurking at his side. My stomach tightened. Seeing him reminded me of the role I was supposed to be playing: weak, naive, awed little orphan. Not the woman who could hold her head up high in any situation.

What kind of girl, fresh from poverty, would walk into a room like this with a spine of steel? None.

So I slipped.

Literally. A little twist of my heel and down I went, the perfect clumsy act. Except, of course, a fucking idiot had to catch me.

"Ms. Belle, is this considered you throwing yourself into my arms?" Smith smirked, arrogance dripping.

In your fucking dreams.

"Let my sister go," Pierre barked, prying me out of Smith's grip.

"I apologize, Mr. Smith. I'm not used to heels yet. I didn't mean to do that." I forced a laugh, then turned away before my face betrayed the urge to stab him right there. Keep it together, Naomi. This nobody can't touch you. Not here. Not ever.

"I'll get you a drink," Pierre said quickly, bolting toward a table.

Finally. Alone.

I drifted into the crowd, heart steady, mask perfectly in place.

Now. I just needed to find a place to smoke.

***

"...looking at her for so long!" I heard a girl snap behind me. Her voice had that nasal pitch of someone who was used to getting her way. "You seriously have no vision, Zack! Think about it carefully. A poor girl from a French orphanage? How does she enter the room like she's elegant and graceful?"

"You mean she's had rent-a-bride training?" another girl chuckled nastily.

"Probably. Some people just aren't willing to tough things out with hard work, so they learn how to seduce men for a free ride and pretend to be innocent just so they can sell themselves for a good price. She's actually so pitiful. I saw her smoking too," She shook her head with the exaggerated pity only a jealous brat can muster.

"Putain, t'es grave malpoli," The words left my mouth before I could stop myself.

Shit.

I was supposed to be staying quiet, observing. But they all turned to me.

"Who are you talking to?" one of the girls snapped.

I glanced up and noticed Zack from last night standing nearby, arms folded, smug expression plastered on his face. And of course, Smith and his little parasite John were lurking in the background, eavesdropping like rodents.

"In France, when people talk about each other, it's usually to their face," I said coolly.

"Who cares about—"

"What's going on here?" Pierre cut her off, swooping in with a glass of water like I was five and couldn't handle champagne.

"Your sister here started with us," the girl whined before I could even open my mouth.

"That's impossible." Pierre's voice sharpened. "My sister is perfectly nice. I'm not sure she even knows how to be as mean as you. No matter how you look at it, you probably said something about her first—and insulted her."

I bowed my head, letting my hair fall over my face to really sell it. "Pierre... they said I was just some rent-a-bride. They said the whole point of this party was for me to seduce men."

"What the hell?" Pierre's ears went red. His voice practically boomed. "Apologize!"

"Why should I? She's just some smelly orphan from France!" the other girl burst out. "Don't think just because your family picked her up that she's better than us! We come from a long line of rich, successful people. She's just a peasant!"

"Pierre—"

"No, Naomi." Pierre turned to me, jaw set. "You can't back down from people like this. Believe it or not, we're a lot better than her stupid family. Apologize to my sister. Now."

This would all be over in five seconds if I could just hit the bitch. But no, I had to play nice.

"I'm calling my dad now!" she screeched, pulling out her phone.

What an interesting show.

Then, the doors at the far end of the hall opened. And I had to bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop the smile from spreading across my face.

Colin. Dammit.

He strolled in like he owned the place, dressed in the most obnoxiously extravagant three-piece suit I'd ever seen—midnight velvet with embroidery that caught the light like fire. And at his side... Luca. I hadn't even known Luca had flown over. He wore a gown that matched Colin's suit perfectly, the fabric hugging his frame so flawlessly he could've been mistaken for the most breathtaking woman in the room. Heads turned instantly. Gasps fluttered through the crowd.

"I didn't expect her family was connected with people from the underworld... they got here so quickly," someone whispered behind me, and just like that, the amusement curdled in my chest.

"I didn't call them! I'm not connected!" The girl quickly covered herself.

This wasn't the time or the place.

"Who's been causing trouble?" Colin's voice rang out, smooth, amused, dangerous. His smile was aimed at me, sharp as a blade wrapped in silk. "Sorry we're late, patronne."

And just like that—all eyes turned on me.

Shit.