Debauchery At The Dinner Party Novels & Stories

“We were just waiting for you. Please, sit.” I sat, only because I knew I had no choice. I didn’t even want to come to this party. My father’s dinner parties always had a reason, usually one that involved me having to put on a show all night, playing the role of the perfect vampire heir, knowing fully well that nothing I ever said or did would be good enough for Alaric. I always hated them. “We were just talking about the Draven legend,” one male said, lifting his goblet to his lips.

You used the name of the Sawyer family to deceive others and tarnish our reputation! Next, a video appeared on the screen. The scene was at a banquet, and a waiter accidentally spilled wine on Charmaine's dress. Charmaine slapped the waiter and said, "Are you blind?" The waiter apologized repeatedly and tried to help Charmaine wipe her dress clean. Charmaine pushed the waiter to the ground, exclaiming, "Get lost! Do you know how much my skirt is worth? You can't afford to compensate me even if you sold yourself!" Her arrogant attitude and vulgar behavior were unheard of in high society events.

But everything Derek had done tonight was a deliberate humiliation, played out in front of everyone I knew. "Oh my god." My cousin, Ashley Sadler, cracked first, pressing a hand over her mouth as she laughed. "Serena, this is the guy you've been defending all this time? He serves canned iced tea at an engagement party. How generous!" My aunt, Diana Glosby, bit back her own smile and chimed in, "Dinner rolls and pickles at an engagement party. Now there's a man who knows how to stretch a dollar. Serena, don't let a catch like Derek get away!"

How does the cold arrogant pig warm up all of a sudden like? His simple touch makes a shudder to my spine. The warmth of his touch is increasing slowly. I gulped hard and get into the banquet. I have a strong feeling that this party is not going to go well and it will be the worst night of my life. I regretted coming with him within a second I emerged in the banquet hall. We enter the banquet hall on the ground floor, my jaw dropped at the magnificent view in front of me. The hall is decorated with beautiful royal curtains and a huge chandelier. There is a big bar on the side with a huge dance floor in the centre.

As if the son of a bitch didn't like offering that body to close a good deal, which is one of the biggest reasons why Stefano won't marry her, he's already used and abused as he wanted while my brother, feeling sorry for the bitch, left her drugged to the point of not remembering the rapes as I feel my body boiling once more from his fury unleashed on my skin. The ballroom of one of the most renowned hotels in New York held a party just to celebrate the eighteenth birthday of the youngest of the De Angelis, debuting in a long burgundy dress accentuating the golden color of the threads, gaining the attention of all the men in the organization as the beautiful bitch that my little sister is. A

“And people like that confuse beauty with weakness.” Her eyes burned. “You make it sound so simple.” “It’s not,” he admitted. “But it is true.” For a moment, the noise faded. Just them. Too close. Too honest. Celeste stood abruptly. “We need to get ready for the dinner.” The reminder of the lie rushed back in. The dinner was worse. Long tables. Crystal glasses. Conversations that smiled while cutting deep. Celeste laughed at the right moments, answered questions with poise, endured veiled condescension wrapped in compliments.

Almost four hours and a near-bottle of whiskey later, I was completely sick of being there. The party had long outgrown its phase of elegance and class, degenerating into pure decadence and vice. The pills and the dust had already begun to run like rivers in the middle of half-naked bodies. I won’t deny that I was tempted to use some girl just to unload, but when I looked at their faces under all that makeup and noticed the truth written in their dates of birth, my stomach turned.

Today's party would be the first they would throw ever since then. I went to the kitchen and began to prepare the food, The other servants would decorate the house. As I prepared the food my I wondered why the Alpha and L una allowed their children to throw one of their usual orgies if they were broke. The party was an orgy because it was always filled with wild and pervasive youngsters and all sorts of alcoholic drinks.

To begin with, I never wanted to be at this ridiculous dinner party. Sitting among Alphas and their families, pretending to care while they stuffed their mouths with delicious, royal food and tried to sell off their daughters to me like I was some prize. Hearing their thoughts, seeing their desperate attempts to draw my attention, showing how hot and sexy their daughters were, and watching their daughters' fake smiles and fluttering lashes… it was a candy sight for a moment, but not something that would make me want to stay until the party is finished.

This Deja is about that $20 million life. Trevor nearly spat out his water, and Ren's eyes narrowed dangerously. "And what do you mean, 'unbecoming of a Moreau'?" Deja's voice was like a whip crack, slicing through the tension. "Is there a manual for that? 'Cause last I checked, we ain't royalty." Deja continued her performance throughout the appetizers, slurping her soup loudly, using the wrong utensils intentionally, and making outrageous comments about the other diners. All the while, she mentally celebrated each disapproving look from Ren.