The Devil's Masquerade: The Poison

by Jennifer Loren

  This woman, “Sophia,” I say, whispering her name whenever I see her just to enjoy that divine feeling that rushes through me. The syllables of her name graze my tongue with delicate softness and a warming breath. She is distracting, and I find myself having difficulty doing even the simplest of tasks. She looked up at me today and waved, and I waved back just before running into a wall. The only thing that hurt worse than my pounding head was the bruising of my ego, pummeled by the sound of her laughter. I think the only way to cure this insanity of mine is to concentrate on work and forget about her, something I manage to do until she surprises me. Covered in grease, hair tied in a mess, and eyes focused hard on mine, she marches straight toward me. My heart skips a beat, and for the first time, I have trouble breathing. Her dreadful wears are powerless against her beauty.

  “Why are you doing this?” she snaps with no fear. I cock my head in confusion. “You are not going to force us to move by building your monstrosity around us. So you can just stop this bullshit right now! And stop watching us! If you think you can intimidate me, you better just forget it, asshole!”

  “I don’t want you to move. In fact, I would prefer you to stay. If you would look at the plans, you would see that I am not building completely around you, only in front of you to hide the eyesore.”

  “Eyesore? What is an eyesore?” the mess shouts at me. She continues yelling and swearing like a drunken sailor for quite some time before stopping abruptly. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

  “You don’t care about what I want at all do you?” I curiously ask.

  “Why would I care what you want?” Sophia says, coming with her arms crossed.

  “Everyone else does,” I say simply.

  “Well, lucky you, Rich Boy. I don’t know why I should care about what you want when no one has ever cared about what I want.”

  “I do. I care very much about what you want,” I say, and for the first time, she is silent. I could get used to this, the ringing in my ears finally has a chance to clear. “I think you should have dinner with me, and then, we can discuss what it is you want, Sophia. I will have some people come clean you up and make you more presentable for me.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Clean me up … for you? What am I …”

  “You’re disgusting, as you can clearly see. Just look at the grease on your face and clothes and even in your hair,” I say with a scrunched up nose. “I would kiss you now, but I don’t want to get any of that on me,” I continue pointing out her issues. She rubs her face, smearing the grease across her skin and onto her hand. “See, you must not be very good at your job, to be such a mess. I assume you make a lot of mistakes. I could have someone teach you how to do it properly?” Suddenly, her face turns red, and her eyes burn, I look closely at her, wondering if she isn’t a child of one of the Lords from my father’s court, but she fails to inflict any pain on me. “You are not much of a demon. I don’t feel any pain at all,” I say before she perks up and punches me in the gut. Okay, I felt that.

  She growls, fisting her hands, “You are the most aggravating man I have ever met! Listen, you spoiled brat, I wouldn’t have dinner with you if you paid me.”

  “You work as a whore, too? I don’t usually pay for such things, but surely I can afford you. How much?”

  I’m lucky I have quick reflexes and am able to stop the flying fists coming at my face. “I am not a whore, you fucking bastard. Let go of me.” I hold tight to her and enjoy it so much that I smile at her until she kicks me in the shin and stomps away.

  “So, I will see you tonight?” I yell after her, receiving a wave of her finger which I take to mean yes. Yes, she waved again to assure her answer. I must make sure tonight is perfect.

  I arrange for a nice dinner to be delivered to her place of work, and I show up in my finest attire. “What are you doing here?” she huffs as I come through the door.

  “We have dinner plans, and since it looks as if you will be working late, I made arrangements to have dinner brought to us. You don’t even have to look nice if you don’t want to. There is no one here for you to embarrass me in front of.”

  “You are so charming! It’s amazing you are still single,” Sophia says, crossing her arms.

  “Thank you,” I say with a smile. After my assistant sets up a table for us, I motion for her to sit, but she continues to stand with her arms folded. “The sooner you sit and eat with me, the sooner I will leave,” I bargain.

  “Promise?”

  “I don’t say things I don’t mean,” I reply, cautiously helping her into her chair so as not to transfer her greasy filth to my imported suit. I look up at her and take my napkin to wipe the smudge of grease from her cheek. “Even though the grease is an interesting accessory choice, I prefer to see all of you, including your beautiful face.” A smile slowly emerges from one corner of her lips to the other, and something inside me fights its way from my chest. I encourage her to eat, and she slowly begins to do just that. She doesn’t say much, allowing me to admire her beauty up close and without the interference of her mouth and opinions. As I promised, I have our dinner cleared and prepare to leave, but before I go, I leave Sophia with a simple kiss on her grease-stained, pink cheek. I even allow myself to linger against her skin for a moment while I inhale her essence.

  The moment I walk through the door, my father’s ire is clear. “Dante! How dare you defy me!” he yells, slamming his cane into the floor and vibrating the walls around us.

  I shake my head, looking at him in confusion, “I don’t know what you are talking about?”

  “Where have you been?” he seethes.

  “I was having dinner.”

  “With our enemy?! That is not something I approve of.”

  “But she is not the enemy, she is simply …”

  “She is not the enemy? Does that not go against what you told me in the first place?” I sink into my body, avoiding his glare. “That woman has made you confused, distracted you from your own family.”

  “She has done nothing of the sort. I am doing everything that you have asked of me.”

  “Are you? Was there not a man that came down to the site today to protest the use of non-union workers? He threatened you, threatened our family, I hear. Tell me. How did you handle the situation?”

  “I found him a job through one of our government contacts. He’s a good man, a good worker. He showed determination and strength, something I thought worthy of a job. So, I helped him find one, and guess what? No more protesting.”

  “He was worthy? He who threatened our family was worthy?”

  “Yes! Why is it that you want to put down anyone who shows strength against us? Maybe we should start using these people rather than destroying them,” I say, watching my father steam as he crushes the glass within his hand.

  “Everything I have taught you has been to protect your family, our family, at all costs. Never … ever consider any possibility other than death for anyone who threatens your family. Where was this woman when you offered the man a job?”

  I look away from him, and answer, “Behind him. She had come to retrieve some of her mail that had gotten mixed up with ours.” He instantly slams his fists into the wall near me.

  “Dante, you tell me right now what your plans are for this woman!” I look up at him, and as soon as I open my mouth, he growls. “Damn you!” he yells, angering me.

  I step to him, my eyes swirling with rage, “No! You don’t tell me how to live my life anymore. She is my choice, and there is nothing you can do about it.” Before he can say another word, I stand tall and look over him. “I am your son, and I will forever be your son, but you must allow me to make my own decisions or kill me right now and risk the family’s business and future on Saldean.”

  My father’s steaming figure calms, and he slowly sits in his chair, looking me over. “Very well. I will give you six months’ time to enjoy this woman, but at the end of that time, you must decide, will it be her or will it b
e the woman of my choosing? I have found the perfect one for you, the perfect mother for the children you will have for me. If you will see them both, I will give you a choice Dante, but once you choose, there is no going back. That woman will be your destruction if you are not careful. Enjoy her Dante, but then I advise that you be done with her or else, I will be done with you.” He leaves me speechless, with my stepmother smiling jubilantly.

  “I am sorry. Mother has been following you for weeks, and she told him what you have been doing,” Galena says, sliding up to my side. “But you should have known better. That woman isn’t worth angering father over and losing your position, I assure you.”

  “And you sister? Have you been following me, too? Or have you been too busy with Marius?” I say, glancing down at her shocked expression. “Don’t pretend that you are concerned for my well-being when all you want is to ride my coattails in hopes of gaining your boyfriend a higher position within the realm. I am your best chance Galena, knowing Saldean would soon rather have you killed than deal with you and your extracurricular activities outside of the family business.”

  “Dante! Now you listen to me, despite my mother, I have done everything I can to help you. I idolize you. I would do anything for you. Yes, I am loyal to my mother, but I am more loyal to you. Don’t be angry with me because of what she did.” I turn to look her in the eyes and realize my sister is all I have. I apologize to her with open arms, but still, how can I trust her when I know she is weak to father’s will. Everyone is weak to my father, including me at times, but I do test his patience more than any of them, something that should have done me in a long time ago. I am not sure why my father continues to believe in me, but I have a feeling it has something to do with my mother.

  Dennis Savage, my father, has been powerful and wealthy since I was born. My stepmother, Belinda, was arranged for my father by his own father. She was expected to make a strong match for him. Belinda is, and always will be, loyal to my father — her one endearing quality. She would never betray him, and she has strong connections with the High Council which gives my father the edge over all the other Lords. His need for my stepmother, however, didn’t stop him from satisfying his sexual desires.

  My mother, Sancia Jayzon, was so beautiful that every man that saw her wanted her, and my father was no different. Despite my stepmother’s protests, he pursued my mother anyway. My mother is said to have fell hard for my father. She adored him, and he loved being with her, craved her even, but he refused to love her. He refused to show any sign of weakness to a woman, to a simple, non-powerful woman. Only, he had no idea how much power she did have over him. He was ready to have me killed after I was born, but she, yes she, the simple powerless woman, stood up to him and said, “If you take my child, I will take your heart with me, to my grave.” The only sign of his heart ever beating is me.

  Unfortunately, my mother died of an illness no one could seem to heal. No doctor, or hospital that my father took my mother to could help her. The day she died, the harshest storm ever formed hitting our city and destroying much of it. The leftover rubble was cleaned up, and out of the ashes, my father began to rebuild, and he rebuilt an empire that could not be fractured.

  My father has never approved of any relationship my siblings or I desired to have. He only approves the ones that are arranged for us. I have to wonder if his heart was taken to the grave with my mother, like she threatened to do. All that is left of him is a heartless, vindictive soul. No one can be happy if my father is not.

  While my father built his empire, I was brought in to share his home with my half-brother, half-sister, and detestable step-mother. My younger sister, Galena, has been more motherly to me than my stepmother has ever been. I guess I can understand why, not that it made things any easier for me. I grew up sheltered from the world until my father decided I was ready to be Pasha: a sultan, a prince to his kingdom as he saw it. It is an honor to be believed in by him, for him to call me, “Ma Joie,” French for, “My Joy.” I am his joy, and for anyone to take that joy away from him is considered a direct attack. I smile with happiness every time he honors me this way. I know what I mean to him, but I can’t imagine I can push much further. I need to tread carefully and give his choice for me a chance while I pursue my own.

  Chapter 3

  Dante

  I don’t know what it is I am feeling, but I do know Sophia makes my every day better than the day before. I try to keep calm around her and not look too eager, though she catches me smiling at her more than once during our work day. At the end of my day, I approach her once again and ask her to join me for dinner. She smiles but tells me she has a lot to do before she can leave, rambling on and on about the long list of duties she must complete. There is no way she can finish all of her work in time for dinner. I understand her issue after looking around the garage, so I change into one of the many uniforms she has available and begin cleaning up, doing the odd things she mentioned. I don’t plan on having dinner alone tonight.

  “What are you doing, Dante?” Sophia asks as she emerges from her office.

  “You said you couldn’t leave until you were done, so I am helping you leave earlier in hopes you will have dinner with me,” I say, trying to look my best whilst holding trash and a broom.

  Her expression leaves me confused, and I prepare for another one of her harsh gut punches as she quickly approaches. Only, Sophia smiles and wraps her arms around my neck. “Oh my gosh! You are so adorable.” I feel a smile coming over my face, but I don’t want to look ridiculous. I try to force it back, but it keeps fighting its way through. She lets go of me and laughs for some reason. It’s the damn smile… I know it. “You are a big spoiled brat, and you talk strange, but at least you care about something other than yourself.”

  “Of course. I care about you, Sophia,” I say, feeling good about my answer when she leans up on her toes and kisses me on the lips. I don’t let her simply taste my lips and run; I bring her back in and press my lips against hers. The wondrous sensations running through my body give me reason to hold her tight, massaging her lips open so I can slip my tongue between them, urging her to give me more. I pick her up, sit her on the hood of one of the cars, and pull her legs around my waist. She leans back and allows me to feel her breasts, but the moment I start to rip through her shirt, she hesitates to go any further. I press my erection against her and watch as her eyes flutter and her mouth quivers, a subtle invitation. Her body heats up with mine, and her clothes begin to stick to her skin. I unzip the top of my grease-stained coveralls, allowing the pants to hang halfway off my hips while I push her shirt over her head. Her nipples tease me as they press boldly against her tank top. I take hold of the fabric between her breasts and tear it from her body, releasing her breasts into the open air. She gasps but settles in as I massage one breast after the other against my lips. My cock frees itself, wanting its own desires to be satisfied. Our skin is wet and heated, and I have to peel her pants from her legs, but I make up for it by holding them up and kissing every part of them from the tips of her toes to her barely-there panties. I lick the outline of her pussy against the fabric before slowly edging them down and out of my way. I force my tongue inside and send her reeling backwards, but my tight hold on her thighs keeps her from getting away from me. Sophia reaches out and fists my hair, but she doesn’t beg me to stop. I feel the rush of her pleasure against my mouth and proudly lick my lips as I rise up. Still gripping her legs, I give my cock what it has been wanting. Feeling inside of her, my dick has never felt so good. I look down at her and smile, but when she opens her eyes to me and reaches out for me, I instantly collapse into her arms and kiss her deeply, whispering my secret desires before coming inside of her with a whimper.

  “Ummm … well that was an interesting first kiss,” she says.

  “I liked it,” I reply with a smile. “I can’t wait for the second.”

  She smiles but straightens up with an attitude. “No second kiss until I get my dinner.” I help her
off the hood of the car and kindly give her another kiss.

  “That one was only for inspiration.”

  “Inspiration for what?”

  “To decide where I want to take you for dinner.”

  Smiling beautifully, she looks over me and laughs. “You are a mess, you are going to have to clean yourself up before we go to dinner because I simply cannot have you embarrass me.” I lean over and look into some shiny rims she has displayed to see the grease on my face and my hair a mess. “Don’t worry. You can clean up at my house while I make us dinner.”

  “But I was going to …”

  “Shush! The last thing I feel like doing is getting dressed up and going to one of your hoity-toity restaurants.” I would argue but something tells me it would be best to just shut up and follow her.

  Sophia’s home is small, but refreshing and warm. While she prepares dinner, I take a shower and scrub the dirt and grime from beneath my fingernails. I walk out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, searching for my clothes that seem to have disappeared. “Sophia, where are my clothes?”

  She runs in and looks down at my towel and smiles, “Wow, ummm. What was your question again?”

  I shake my head at her wandering eyes. “Where are my clothes?”

  “Oh yes, your clothes. I hid them. I laid out some more common people clothes there for you. Try them, or wear your towel if you prefer, and then meet me in the kitchen for dinner.” I look down at the odd wears and pick them up in horror. “Don’t look at them that way. They are my brother’s, but they should fit you fine. They are sweats, something you should try once in a while to relax a little.” I refuse to wear such things, so I sit down to dinner in my towel to her instant humor. “Stubborn ass.”

  “I would be fine naked if you prefer, but I was trying to be respectful, and those clothes are nowhere near respectful.”