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"I have to find out more," Madeline adds enthusiastically and turns to face me, reminding herself that I'm still here. "Would you mind if we leave?"
"Of course," I say, trying not to express too much joy.
They turn to leave when Madeline adds to me, "There's a bar with Bloody Marys. With real fresh blood instead of tomato juice, of course. Check it out; all the handsome bachelors are there." She winks at me.
When they finally leave, I exhale loudly, as if a burden has been lifted from my shoulders.
Why am I even here? I have no idea how to make conversation with strangers.
To find your mate, I remind myself. And then I walk to the bar with cocktails with blood.
CHAPTER FOUR
LEONARDO
As I expected, everyone is talking about the idea of me getting married.
Fuck Darius and his stupid ideas to piss me off.
I will never do that, not in a million years. Why should I? I'm happy with my life; it is pure joy: beautiful women pursuing me, money flowing, and the world's power coming to my hands.
I am the right-hand of Darius, the head of the Saint Philip society and soon-to-be director of Carrisi enterprises, a billion-dollar media empire. No one can take this away from me. Why do I need to change anything?
Luckily, it's a masquerade ball, and we’re all wearing costumes and masks that hide at least half of our faces. Otherwise, this whole horde of women would figure out who I am and surround me from both sides.
I tried to spread a rumor that Darius was looking for a wife, not me. But they don't care. All they think about is how honorable it would be to become a part of the Carrisi family; they don't care if it's Darius or me. They’re lusting after the power they’d have being at the top of the social order.
Since Darius became the head of the society, he’s the most eligible bachelor in the vampire world. And I'm the second one on that list. And I wouldn't say I like it. I’ve never had problems finding one-night stands, but now it’s even easier. Too easy, actually; it's not even enjoyable anymore to meet new women. I have no idea if they like me for me or for who I am in the hierarchy. Women practically throw themselves at me, while I like to chase my prey.
When I told this to Darius once, he said I'm a spoiled bastard who doesn't appreciate what he's got. What a jerk.
I get to the ballroom an hour after everything started. I walk through the main entrance as if I'm also a guest. I’m wearing a black tuxedo and mask that covers my whole face. That's how I can stay unnoticed, at least for now.
I look around for Darius and see him standing in the corner of the room, talking to some men. He's always about business, my brother. He can't just chill and enjoy this night in his honor.
Well, then I'll do this for both of us. I'll choose the most petite woman in here and play with her.
I head to the bar, starving. I need a couple of blood cocktails because I can't think straight when I’m hungry.
"Who cares which of them decided to get married? They're both hot!" says a woman from my right as I get to the bar.
I clench my teeth, trying to stay calm. This whole charade has to stop right after we kill Raphael Darrington. The vampire world needs to know that I’m not going to get married any time soon, if ever.
I drink a shot of blood in one gulp and exhale, trying not to draw attention to myself. If even one person recognizes me, the whole evening will be ruined. I’ll have to keep up the stupid conversations all night long, unable to enjoy the event entirely.
I reach for another shot as my eyes travel across the massive ballroom. At one glance at the entrance, I freeze, unable to look away.
A woman in a black dress and a mask that covers only half of her face enters the ballroom, and I hold my breath. It’s a sleeveless dress; the corset is made of leather, exposing her beautiful shoulders and collarbones and emphasizing petite breasts. The skirt was made of chiffon, which gives it volume, the lengths leading straight to her ankles.
I watch as she saunters in, looking around with interest, her long, dirty-blond hair falling onto her half-naked back. Her gait is uncertain as if she is afraid to be here, but she keeps her back straight, trying not to give herself away.
Something inside me shrinks, and there is a strange feeling in my stomach and chest. My stomach contracts, like it does when I feel danger and have to fight, run, or chase. And my chest is even worse: it hurts, burning as if from a hit, so much that I can barely take a breath.
What the fuck is going on with me? Who is this woman?
I haven’t seen her before, that’s for sure. Not just because of how she’s staring at everything, but because I’m sure I’d have noticed her if I did.
I can’t look away, stalking her every move. As she comes to the bar with champagne and places a strawberry in her glass, the drink spills on her hand and the dress. She opens her mouth, and a few drops of champagne drip off her tongue.
