by Mason, V. F.
He must be kidding me right now. “You want us to dance in front of everyone?” I hiss when his arm wraps around my waist and his palm grabs mine, lifting it up a little so we are standing in the perfect pose.
“It's the Browns’ ball. It's a tradition.”
My brows furrow at this, because this tradition wasn't a thing ten years ago.
But sure enough, people slowly gather in the circle, couples holding each other, and the conductor in front taps with his stick. The music increases in volume as the violin mixes with the piano.
And then Eudard steps forward so I have no choice but to step back as he swirls us in a waltz along with ten other couples doing the same, moving in circles. My back is rigid, with my neck gracefully exposed as I allow the music to wash over me, my body buzzing with the familiar excitement and desire to perform.
He grips my waist, his fingers drumming on my back before he twirls me to the side, and I frown when everyone follows suit, realizing that it's some kind of dance routine.
So not a waltz after all?
The ladies catch their skirts, while twirling under their partner's hand, and then splaying their hands, pressing them to their partner’s. As I hold Eudard's intense stare, we circle around each other before he envelops me in his arms again.
“You could have warned me about the routine,” I tell him, accusation lacing my tone, and he only winks before swirling me, and with a gasp, I end up in another set of arms.
My body goes cold when I see Cole's boyish expression as he twirls us and then raises me up a little before gently placing me back down. “I thought I wouldn't get the chance to talk to you tonight,” he says, while we dance in circles again. “Eudard has been hogging your attention.”
“Didn't know you enjoyed dancing.” I ignore his statement, teasing him a little, and his eyes light up in delight, his cheeks reddening.
“We'd learned this dance for the prom.” My heart pangs painfully, because I can imagine everyone had fun there.
Graduating without a care in the world while I…
“This explains everyone's excellence then,” I reply, and he opens his mouth to say something but then sighs in disappointment as he raises his hand, twirling me into the arms of Ethan, who catches me quickly, not even missing a beat in his steps.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says to me, and I almost burst into laughter at this, but instead just nod at him. “You look stunning tonight.” The compliment on his lips has zero appeal though while his scent disturbs my nostrils, demanding I run away from him.
“Thank you.” We are once again twirled into the middle, swishing our dresses while we circle our partners, and Ethan uses this opportunity to chat my ear off. “I was surprised to see you with Eudard of all people.” Even though his tone stays neutral, I detect traces of annoyance. “Be careful with him,” he warns me, and I muster a shocked expression, worry probably inching onto my face.
Relief flashes in his gaze at my reaction, so he elaborates. “He is a dangerous man.”
“Is that so?” We dance off again, and I place my hand on his shoulder, flawlessly sliding over the floor, quickly catching on to all this dancing hoopla.
Squeezing my palm a little, he leans forward, lowering his voice, but for whose benefit, I don't know. No one gives a shit about our conversation anyway. “Do you know that his nickname is Madman?”
Batting my eyelashes, I gasp a little, and this reaction is enough to keep him going. But judging by the moves, we’ll be changing partners soon. “Women don't have staying ability in his life.” The information stings, because it implies there are women in his life, but I shake my head, not wanting him to see how this information affects me.
What did I expect anyway? That he lives like a monk and doesn't look at other women just because we hooked up once in the past?
“Oh, and they do in yours?” Ethan blinks at this, so I sugarcoat my voice while whispering, “I imagine it’s like the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?”
“You don't understand—”
“No need to warn me, Ethan. I make my own decisions.” He might hate it, but my interest in Eudard will fuel his desire to win me over.
Jumping right into my silky web that will catch him easily before his death.
“Cassandra—” Whatever he wants to say is lost to me though as he twirls me and I end up in another set of arms, heat surrounding me along with rigid muscles that dip under my touch, because I didn't expect to be pulled so fiercely.
Along with it though comes the cocoon of protection, washing away those other touches that disturbed my sanity more than once. In his scent, I can bask for hours and not succumb to my nightmares, but instead remember something beautiful.
Eudard sways me from side to side, catching my fingers and pulling me to him before picking me up and repeating the swirling, and that’s when the music finally dies down, the last notes echoing in the spacious room as people give us applause for an amazing performance.
His grip on my hips tightens when he places me down, sliding my body over his, our breath mixing as we both pant, needing a breath.
His gaze stays glued to me, and he traces my cheek with his finger, and I’m too mesmerized to react or remember where we are. “They don't get it.”
“Don’t get what?” I ask in confusion, still on cloud nine, because his presence alone has the ability to erase all bad emotions.
He leans closer, tipping my chin back, his mouth impossibly close to me while he murmurs, his husky voice sinking into me like an aphrodisiac. “That you belong to me.” And then his lips capture mine for everyone to see, the thumb on my chin pressing painfully, making me gasp so he can push his tongue inside, brushing it against mine, sending a shot of desire through me.
I fist his shirt, wanting to step away from him but instead arch my back to give him better access to me so he can deepen the kiss, and for a second, I allow myself to be drawn into the sensation of being in his arms with his touch awakening the dormant needs inside me that have not come out for ten long years.
My lips learn his anew, finding the familiar passionate rhythm that only he inspires. Goose bumps break on my skin. The blood heating awakens every hair on my body, and the pleasure travels from my toes to the top of my head.
His hand slowly travels up, lacing in my hair before he tugs on it harshly, and a moan escapes me, while the outside world slowly vanishes along with painful memories that have no place in this moment between us.
The kiss is deep yet gentle, despite his hold on me that stakes a claim for everyone to see, so no one has doubts who I belong to.
This thought along with the female gasps and the shattering of a glass snaps me out of the haze and brings me to reality, where my actions finally register.
He must have felt it too, because he snatches his mouth away from mine and grins, the satisfaction evident in his every feature when he whispers, “Now they do.”
“I can’t believe you did this,” I hiss, but then again, it’s not like he made me do it.
I was a willing participant, and my cheeks heat up while embarrassment shoots through me, reminding me of the audience around us.
How can I lose all logical thought when I’m around him and act like a teenager with my first crush, when essentially I know nothing about this man?
Looking into his life has been too painful, so I avoided the reports on him at all costs. “No wonder they call you a madman,” I say to him, and he chuckles, removing a lock of my hair from my forehead, but I slap his hand away.
“Do you know why?”
“I don’t care, but I have a feeling you will enlighten me anyway.” Then without waiting for him to reply to my jab, I fist my dress and dart to the terrace door, slipping into the night like Cinderella after her first ball.
And while I run and run, my heels clicking and my dress flapping behind me, I can’t help but wonder how, despite all rational thoughts flying in my mind, I long to turn and run back into his arms where he c
an give me solace from the nightmare that my life has become.
If only.
But if only exists only in an alternate reality.
In this one, I will never know an answer to that.
Madman
The nickname was given to me by my high school football coach who told everyone that when I want or desire something, I go after it like a madman, with a singular obsession in mind.
He thought that football was my greatest love as I gave it my all, leading us to higher and higher achievements. If not for that fight on the field, I probably would have had offers from different universities; I was that good.
The coach had it wrong though.
My greatest obsession has always been her, and football was only a means to stay in this fucked-up town and be close to Arianna.
But this is only one of the thousands of secrets she is yet to discover about me, our past, and the events of that night that forever shattered us.
I grab a glass of whiskey from the passing waiter and salute Ethan, who returns the gesture with his champagne glass, although anger is still blazing from him. Sure as fuck, his smug grin is gone from his face after he spit some bullshit to Cassandra. I live to bring sorrow to the founding five.
I chuckle into my whiskey, because I’m already anticipating Cassandra’s joy when she discovers the gift I’ve prepared for her in Patricia’s garden.
Once upon a time, a madman desired an angel while her heart belonged to a saint.
This time around though, our story will be different.
This time, a madman will get his sinner and drag her into his world, revealing all his dark secrets to her that only she has the ability to withstand.
Cassandra
“Your stupidity has no explanation, Cassandra,” I mutter to myself, groaning inwardly at the show I’d given earlier to the audience.
I can’t believe I ran away like that. Maybe I’m just not cut out for grand plans, because the minute Eudard is close, I act like a moron.
“Stop,” I order myself, because berating myself gets me nowhere. I drop onto the fountain bench while breathing in the fresh air, the scent of roses and lavender surrounding me.
Despite the music coming from the open terrace door, I still hear crickets in the bushes and owls alerting me to their presence.
All those statues glisten in the night, and their expressions catch my attention. I get up and walk to one of them, Athena I think, judging by the sword she is holding in her hands.
It’s like permanent sorrow is etched in her features, the hollowness of her gaze sending chills down my spine and bringing a flashback that knocks me back a little. I whimper in pain, holding on to my head.
Insane freak!
My hands fist when the buzzing in my ears intensifies, but the weird, barely audible sounds coming from inside the forest penetrate through it, and I freeze, slowly coming back to the present, blocking the traumatizing flashbacks.
For a second, I think it was just an illusion, but the sound comes again, a female moan and a hushed whisper that can only belong to a man. “I can’t stand his touch on you.” It sounds familiar, but I can’t identify it, so I go in the direction of the sound, walking on my toes so they don’t hear my approach.
Reaching the alcove, I glance behind it as I locate the source of the slapping. I walk around it, blinking in shock at the view greeting me.
Patricia is pressed against the alcove’s wall with her legs wrapped around Frank’s waist as he drives inside her. They are fully clothed and both are so lost in their moment they don’t even see me.
So this is who Frank is banging. Patricia finally gave him the chance he had been begging for since high school. I watch her moaning in pleasure and throwing her head back, in disbelief, as I never imagined she’d ever cheat on her husband.
Let alone with his best friend, but I honestly don’t think they know the meaning of those words. They are so sneaky with this affair that I didn't even have a hint of something going on. But their reckless behavior opens up so many possibilities for me to use against them I can’t believe my luck.
The bubble of laughter builds inside me, and I swallow it back, but it’s enough to snag their attention as they freeze and turn their gazes on me, Patricia gasping in shock. So I play along.
Placing my palm on my mouth, I shake my head and mumble, “Oh my God.” Shifting uncomfortably for good measure, I stumble back. “I have to go.”
“No, Cassandra. Wait!” Patricia shouts, slapping Frank’s chest, seething. “Let go of me.” He grunts something, trying to dislodge her as carefully as possible, but I’ve had enough of this.
“I can explain,” she says, but my raised hand stops her.
“There is no need, really. I have to go.” With that, I lift my dress, spin around, and dart in the direction of the terrace, all while chuckling quietly.
Oh, I now have them in my trap, all right. Patricia will do everything for me now as long as I don't spill her secret, which means she’ll be like a puppet in my grasp, ready to comply with my every order.
To be at someone’s mercy is a state Patricia is not familiar with.
And fortunately for her, I don't plan to put her in that situation, oh no.
Blackmail is not on my agenda, but destroying her by using this information?
Ah, beautiful and even better than my original plan.
I step into the light, ready to bolt to the terrace and get the hell out of here. I’m sure Eudard showed me off enough during this ball, but I stop in my tracks when I see Ethan lounging on the fountain, sipping his champagne, his mouth twisting in a grimace when he sees me. “Isn’t that Kassandra herself with a K,” he says, finishing his drink and carelessly putting the glass on the fountain where it drops but thankfully doesn't shatter. “You really take after your namesake.”
My brows rise at this, and I wonder how long I’ll have to deal with this idiot before his friends catch up with me. “I think you are drunk, Ethan.” I ignore his statement and resume my walk, albeit more gracefully now, to the terrace, but he gets up, swaying a little, and I detect the reeking smell of alcohol.
God, how many glasses did he have in such a short timespan? “You deceived me just like Kassandra did Apollo.”
“Excuse me?”
“You dangled yourself in front of me.” He wiggles his fingers at me, stepping in front of me and blocking my movements, so I take a deep breath, hoping to keep my calm. I don’t need another scene. “Kassandra promised Apollo herself, and instead she didn't deliver. Just like you.”
I roll my eyes at this. I should have known that Ethan belongs to one of those groups of men who think if you smile at them, then you instantly are ready to have sex with them. “Let’s end this conversation before you say something you can’t take back,” I warn him, but he doesn't move, and instead he smirks, although it lacks any humor; only anger vibrates from him. “If Eudard gets a chance at tasting a shiny new toy, why don’t I?” My body tenses when he grabs my elbow, ready to pull me, and an instant flashback hits me, reminding me of his alcohol-induced breath with similar words on his lips from ten years ago.
My hand fists and I’m ready to punch him but his hold on me is gone, and I have a moment to blink before seeing Eudard wrapping his hand around Ethan’s throat and then pulling his arm back, punching Ethan right in his face. I hear a crack echoing in the night followed by Ethan’s loud yelp as he falls on the ground.
Eudard shoves me behind him, while I watch in surprise and awe as Ralph hurries toward us, and I hear footsteps behind us.
Patricia and Frank must have caught up with us.
“Do not ever touch her again.” Eudard speaks calmly, so calmly it chills my blood and makes me shift a little from the fury vibrating under his skin. If his shaking hand is anything to go by, he’s barely controlling the desire to punch Ethan again. He leans forward and grabs Ethan by the lapels of his suit jacket, shaking him so hard his teeth rattle, and Ethan covers his nose, whimpering when
blood slips through his fingers. “Do you understand?” Even though I want to stop him, I’m mesmerized by his transformation from the cocky bad boy to this man… with a darkish allure around him that everything feminine in me calls for.
Congratulations! You are officially insane!
“He is just drunk, Eudard,” Ralph says, coming closer and wanting to help Ethan get out of his tight grip, but he stumbles back when Eudard pushes him away.
“Do not interfere.” Surprise flares in Ralph’s eyes but he nods, watching the scene warily.
He shakes Ethan again, and this time the other grumbles through the blood, “Yes, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to.” He looks up at me, pleading in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry he got caught, that is, but by the panic slowly filling the air, I know the founding five don't understand Eudard’s behavior, and we’ve had enough excitement for this evening.
Even if I wish to watch how he smashes Ethan’s head on the ground so I can kick the asshole for good measure.
Placing my palms on his bicep, I squeeze it tightly before murmuring, “Eudard.” He doesn't react, his arms still tense under my touch, his complete focus on Ethan. I’m afraid he’s going to snap his neck any minute now. “I’d like to go home now,” I say to him, and finally he glances at me, an unreadable expression clouding his green pools, but his grip loosens. Ethan falls back on the ground with a thud, and Ralph kneels next to him, pressing his handkerchief to his nose.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks him quietly, still warily studying Eudard as if afraid of his next move.
“Let’s go,” I say, lacing my fingers with his and pulling him in the direction of the exit.
“Cassandra,” Patricia calls, and I look at her over my shoulder, her mouth trembling while she shakes her head, begging me not to tell anyone.
Patricia begging me.
“I can’t deal with this now.”