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I glance at Alicia, who’s staring at my hand. “Shouldn’t you go grab the salad?” Elena’s eyes light up when I turn back to her. My dismissiveness is giving her confidence.
Alicia gets up. “Anything else I can get you?” She’s sullen and soft-voiced. Is it all part of the act? I can’t imagine so, now that she’s witnessing a friend going out of her way to catch my interest.
I remember almost a moment too late not to watch her ass as she walks away. Instead, I slide my hand down Elena’s arm. “What do you like to do in your free time?”
She tosses her dark hair over one shoulder and purses her already pouty lips. “I don’t know. Whatever catches my interest. What about you?”
“My interests sometimes change from day-to-day, I admit. It’s always been a problem.”
“What are you interested in today?” She leans in until her tits are maybe a deep breath away from spilling out. “Maybe I can help you out with it.”
“I think you can, now that you mention it. I have this deep craving that nothing has filled.”
She bites her lip. “I bet you can fill a lot of cravings.”
There’s not a doubt in my mind that I could have her in any room in this house, this very night. I could vomit all over her. Nothing turns me off like a slut who reeks of desperation, but the disloyalty is leagues worse.
When Alicia returns, we turn our attention to the meal for a while. There’s no end to the double entendre, but at least we get through the salad and lasagna without me wanting to shove a knife in the girl, so she’ll shut up for once.
And all the while, Alicia eats mechanically. Dutifully. Eyes downcast, disappointment plucking at the corners of her mouth. I can’t help but feel for her, and it’s even more reason for me to hate this brazen skank. I have no regrets over what I’m about to do to her, not by the time we’re finished.
“So…” Elena’s knowing smile would be irritating enough without the playfulness in her voice. “What’s next? Dessert? I don’t know if I can afford any. This dress is tight enough.” She runs both hands over her chest and waist.
“I had something a little different in mind, to tell you the truth.” I look at Alicia, now sitting bolt upright, her eyes darting back and forth between us. I can all but hear her heart racing.
“Oh?” Elena smiles slyly. “I’m always up for an adventure. What were you thinking?”
I raise my voice, looking toward the door. “Prince? We need you in here.”
Elena looks at Alicia, her brows raised. “Do you know anything about this?”
“No,” I answer, waving Prince in when he appears. “No, I came up with this on my own.”
She sizes Prince up in a single approving glance. “Wow. This is my night,” she declares with a laugh. “Here I was, thinking Enzo was the only hot guy around here, but now I find out he’s been hiding you.”
Prince spares a faint, condescending smile.
He then pulls out his gun and strikes her over the head with it, knocking her unconscious.
25
ALICIA
Is that what it was like for me? When Prince so coldly and smoothly came up from behind and hit me over the head? Did I drop like a sack of potatoes after letting out a soft cry the way I just witnessed Elena doing?
There are voices nearby, but over the rush of blood in my ears, they sound distant, muffled, like I’m listening to a conversation through a wall. I can’t take my eyes off her, slumped in her chair, eyes closed and mouth partly open. Is that what I looked like?
The muffled voices get louder until, finally, someone touches my shoulder. A soft scream tears its way out of me before the world comes back into focus again.
And when it does, Enzo is leaning over me, scowling. “Stay with me here. Are you all right? Do you need something?”
Yes. For one thing, I need to know how they find it so easy to do things like this. Prince didn’t so much as hesitate before striking Elena on the back of her head. How did he do that? I could never do that. Or if I did, I’d have to close my eyes and turn my face away. I wouldn’t be able to look.
But Prince only stands there behind the chair, staring at me. He looks like he doesn’t know whether to feel sorry for me or to laugh. Of course, he would find this funny. To them, none of this is a big deal.
“Alicia.” Enzo’s stern voice finally cuts through the noise in my head. I shake myself out of it and force myself to meet his gaze rather than shrinking away.
“I’m fine,” I tell him since he seems genuinely concerned. For the baby, of course—I’m still not under any illusions.
