Page 80 of Baby for the Bratva King

“Our subconscious minds are very powerful tools. They know the truth before we become conscious of it ourselves.”

“Go on,” says Felix, hands crossed over his chest, treating my father as comic relief to break up the night. “Tell us the truth.”

My father shifts beside me, examining my costume. “Do you know much about the tale of Dracula?” He focuses on me. “Lucy Westerna was a beautiful young woman, wanted by a lot of the men in the town. She was prone to sleepwalking, which, psychologically speaking, can represent dissociation and repressed truths.”

“Thanks for the literary analysis," drawls Felix. “I think we’ll go now.”

Felix grabs my arm, but I anchor my feet in the ground, wanting to learn more.

Felix picks up on this, but he senses I want to stay, so he lets me hear my father out.

“Dracula stalks Lucy while she sleepwalks. He capitalizes on her vulnerability, biting her, feeding off her several times. And you know what happens in the end?” My father watches me closely. “She dies.” He lets those two words linger for a while. “I encourage you to think with your head, not your heart. And you know where home is, should you ever want to return.” My father glances at me one last time and takes his leave, trailing down the stone hallway like death itself, bound in infinite layers of black cloth.

He raises the pointed hood back over his head, the spear back over his shoulder. He might even win the best dressed award if he removes the mask and shows himself.

Surprisingly, he’s not showing his face here tonight. For the first time ever, the cameras scare him.

And I realize I may have finally caught up to the receding tide.

21

FELIX

What a ridiculous costume.

I step into the alcove next to my Honeysuckle. She looks conflicted about something, like she’s losing resentment, sinking into a warmer feeling.

“He turns up at my event and pretends to care about your wellbeing?” I sniff a laugh. “Fucking ridiculous if you ask me.”

Saskia drops her gaze, staring at her feet.

“Saskia.” I corner her into the stone, resting my palm beside her sweet face. “Look at me.”

She slowly works her gaze back up to me, eyes pooling with sadness.

“He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I thought he was going to beat my ass.”

Heavy black makeup is smudged under her eyes, making the amber color appear more vibrant.

I trail my thumb under her chin, working my way up her face to dry some of her tears. Freckles adorn her face, her puffy lips parted as she breathes through her mouth.

“This place is invite only,” I sigh. “How the fuck did he even get in?”

“I suppose death is everywhere.”

“Fair point.” I push off from the wall, teasing a hand through my hair as I continue watching Saskia. Her makeup is dramatic tonight—or was before her father entered and turned this pleasant evening upside down.

In some ways, I have to thank him. Saskia was about to expose her father in front of everyone. That would have been catastrophic. Let the media fill in the blanks—never do it yourself.

“He’s playing a game,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “And he wants to win.”

Saskia furls her lip, letting the silence ring between us.

“He feels threatened, and he knows how to manipulate you, sweetheart.”

“Well, it’s working.”