CHAPTER 8-ENEMIES IN MASK

Natalie’s POV

Who does he think he is to boss me around, I put the box aside and just laid there for a while… then I heard a loud bang on my door that snapped me back to reality

“Natalie, are you dressed yet?” He asked in an angry tone.

“No, and I’m not going to any party with you.” I screamed loud enough so he could hear.

I could hear his footsteps backing away some minutes later, finally relieved, but my relaxation was cut short, when the door flew open, I was certain I locked it from inside so how did he?

“I don’t take no for an answer Natalie, so I suggest you stop testing my patience and dress up for the gala, it’s a masked gala, I’ll be meeting some work colleagues there”

“And that’s supposed to be my problem how?” I snapped at him.

I pushed myself up on the bed glaring at him, he didn’t give me an answer, he just walked over, pulled the heel from the box and knelt in front of me. When he slid it onto my foot, his touch was cold but gentle

Whatever he was doing made my blood boil, he wasn’t gentle unless it meant something to him. So what game is he playing now?

I jerked my foot backwards, but he only tightened his grip on my ankle even further. Then he finally stood up when the heels were tight enough.

“Dress yourself” he voiced out before fixing his gaze on me “Now!”

“Go to hell” I hissed.

He yanked me forward forcing me to stumble over and falling on him, his breath brushed my skins and made me turn instantly cold. He gripped my waist so hard it was difficult to breath before saying

“I don’t like repeating myself, Natalie”

What happened in the study the other day flashed in my memory... the whip, the torture, everything.

"Get out," I managed to choke out. "So, I can change."

His eyes searched mine for a second too long. Then he released me from his grip and stepped back.

"The door stays unlocked, just in case you try anything funny."

He stood outside the door tapping his shoe slowly. The gown was Emerald green. Of course. And it reminded me a lot of the way he looks at me.

When I opened the door, I only made it halfway out before his arm shot out, blocking me.

"Something’s missing." He shrugged

He walked back into the room. When he returned, he held two things: the diamond choker he’d given me as my birthday gift, and a lace mask.

The mask came first. He tied it over my eyes firmly. Then the choker. His fingers were warm as he fastened it, but when he was done, he gave it one final tug.

"Perfect," he murmured against my ear. "Now we can leave."

He shut the door behind me. His hand settled at the waist, guiding me as he led me down the stairs. The car was already waiting outside, engine running.

He opened the car door, and I slid into the back seat because fighting him in public wasn’t worth the bruises.

Before I could reach for the door, he grabbed the seatbelt and clicked it shut across my lap.

He gave it one extra tug, cinching it tight against my stomach. His knuckles brushed against me. Cold and possessively.

“Can’t have you running off again” he said, before sitting on his side of the chair.

I turned my face to the window. Minutes later, the car rolled to a stop.

The gala had already begun, and everyone were being ushered into the building.

Staffs in black uniforms ushered us through a side entrance, away from cameras.

We got to the main hall and a bodyguard stepped forward. Young, clean-cut, professional. He extended a hand to me politely.

“Miss, this way—”

Lucien moved faster than expected. His hand shot past the guard’s and caught mine, fingers tightening on my palm before I could jerk back.

“Don’t touch her,” he murmured

I tried to pull free from his grip but he was too strong.

“I didn’t ask for—”

He dragged me forward, glaring at the guard until the man dropped his eyes and stepped back.

We stopped at the bar. One long, obsidian stool at the corner. Lucien pressed a hand to my waist forcing me to sit.

“Wait here.” he said in a cold tone, then he vanished into crowd.

I’d been alone for ten minutes, then one of Lucien's old friends approached me at the bar. Malachi.

“Poor little bird,” he murmured, appearing at my side. Lucien’s oldest friend. His biggest enemy. He looked exactly like sin... dark suit, darker smile.

“Does he keep you on a chain when there aren’t cameras?” he asked mockingly offering his hand.

“Dance with me. Or are you waiting for permission?”

I knew what he was doing. I knew who he was doing it for. I took his hand anyway.

The dance floor was packed. Malachi didn’t lead me into the crowd. He pulled me into him, one hand gripped across my waist, the other catching my hip. We were chest to chest. Too close. His gaze slid past me, fixing on Lucien at the bar.

Lucien had a tumbler in his hand, he wasn’t drinking, he was watching.

When Malachi’s thumb dragged up my side, Lucien frowned then he crushed the glass of whiskey in his hand.

Whiskey and blood hit the bar top. People near him gasped and stepped back.

He set the ruined tumbler down, blood running between his fingers, and started walking towards us with death glares in his eyes.

Malachi chuckled against my ear. “And there he is.”

Lucien reached us and didn’t stop, one arm hooked around my waist and yanked me towards him.

I was ripped from Malachi and slammed back against Lucien’s chest within seconds.

His blood smeared onto my dress.

“Touch her again,” Lucien raged... “and I’ll feed you your fingers.”

Malachi just smirked. “She came to me willingly. Maybe she’s tired of the collar.”

“Lucien, let me go,” I snapped, shoving at his arm.

He answered by pulling me tighter. He spun me, dipped me, his body forcing mine where he wanted it. When he lifted me, his hand slid up my thigh, fingertips digging into my skin.

“Stay away from him,” he breathed, as his lips brushed the crook of my neck. “I’m not asking, Natalie.”

“You don’t own me!”

His laughs mockingly before replying.

“Lie to yourself better.”

I shoved his hand backwards, harder this time then he let go.

I stumbled back, sucked in air, and did the one thing I knew would hurt his inflated ego.

I walked straight to Malachi. Grabbed his collars and pressed myself against him, moving to the music. Slow and Seductive.

Lucien stood at the edge of the floor, blood dripping from his fist onto the floor, as he watched us dance angrily, I could tell he was boiling from inside.

His expression was blank. That was worse than rage.

His looked above us, at the mezzanine balcony, he looked shocked like he just saw something odd.

He crossed the distance that separated us in two heartbeats without a warning. One second, I was in Malachi’s arms. The next, Lucien’s arm was around my waist.

Then I heard it, the sound of a bullet piercing through Malachi, he choked out blood and staggered to the floor

The music stopped right away. People screamed

Lucien’s arms were around me, but I couldn’t feel them. The room spun. The screaming doubled. The blood on the floor kept spreading, reaching for my feet.

My knees gave out and the last thing I saw was Lucien’s face above me, then I blacked out.