Little Doll: Queens of Chaos 1

by L. J. Findlay

  He didn’t move his attention from Elliott. “Gorgeous, but I heard that this is the one who is in a relationship with my fiancée’s dear friend, Xander.”

  “So, not suitable for an extra-marital affair? You want someone more available?”

  “What are you saying, brother?”

  “Nothing, nothing.” He brushed it off airily. “Merely commenting on how gorgeous this waitress is. If Elena wasn’t in the picture…” Elliott tailed off, Blaise looked murderous but thankfully he gritted his teeth, not rising to the bait.

  “If that’s everything, sirs…” I began hesitantly, drawing their attention back on me. I dipped my head and murmured my excuses before hurrying off to the kitchen.

  That exchange had made me so fucking done with this evening. I was exhausted from having to appear 100% fine and relaxed. Nothing to see here but a nice, smiley waitress. Mercifully, the rest of the evening passed relatively quickly and I managed to keep my head down and not engage with anyone. When the last guests trailed to the exit, I hurried to the kitchen, breathing a sigh of relief. The door clicked open and I turned to see who had entered, hoping it was Blaise. Of course it was Xander, so I smiled brightly.

  He made no move to come closer, just regarded me before saying. “You did well, Xan. I hope the lesson has been learnt?”

  “It has, babe. It wasn’t as bad as I was thinking anyway.”

  “Mountain out of a molehill some might say,” he smiled at me. “Anyway, I came to check that you didn’t want to come to the afterparty? Izzie said you made your excuses because you were feeling tired from this evening?”

  Of course, she gave an excuse. “Yes, it’s been a tough one emotionally and physically. Also, I think Izzie just needs to enjoy this night because it is her night after all and we’ve only just patched things up.”

  He looked at me with pride and pulled me close, pressing a kiss to my lips, which I kept firmly closed. His presence made me want to recoil automatically but I couldn’t clue him into my distaste. “You’ve learnt many things tonight, little doll. You won’t mind if I go, will you?”

  “Of course not!” I pushed him away and smiled. “Go. Have fun and we’ll do something soon, kay?”

  “Of course, meus ad infinitum, remember?”

  “Meus ad infinitum,” I whispered back, holding onto the table for support.

  I watched him retreat down the corridor and felt my phone buzz.

  * * *

  Blaise: Get home safely. I will see you later to wipe all trace of that bastard from your lips x

  * * *

  Fuck. He had seen. My phone buzzed again.

  * * *

  Blaise: I will call you and remember – this is all a show and we are only in Act 1.

  * * *

  What did that mean? Did that mean that he was busy sleeping with Isadora? I really didn’t want to know. Exhausted, I called an Uber to take me home and as I sat in the back of the cab, I breathed out a sigh of relief. Somehow, I had made it through the evening. I was drained but I had proved to myself that I could be a worthy leading lady in this fucked up tragedy.

  My phone rang out discordantly later and I jumped into alertness, my brain foggy as I tried to think of who would be calling me so late. Blearily I looked at my phone and much to my shock it was Blaise. He had said he was coming later but I honestly didn’t believe him. I stumbled down the corridor, hoping that the girls wouldn’t wake up and then remembered that Gemma had gone home for the weekend, thankfully.

  I opened the door to find him standing there like some smug devil coming to steal this chaste virgin’s innocence. I swallowed. “Hi.”

  He smiled back and mimicked my greeting, entering the flat and crowding me against the wall. I could smell the night on him. Alcohol, cigarette smoke, Isadora’s noxious perfume. The mysteries of the evening. He placed his hands at the tops of my legs, forcing me to wrap my legs around him as he leant in and plundered my mouth with kisses that I desperately returned, squeezing my legs tightly around him as he walked us down the corridor to my room.

  He deposited me on the bed and stood tall above me. A powerful predator coming to claim what was his. Me. Wantonly lying on the bed, chest heaving, a willing sacrifice. He propped his body up on top of mine and smiled affectionately down at me. “The payment at the party last week was just a taster for tonight.”

  I brushed a featherlight kiss over his lips. “A payment? I see this as more me allowing you to indulge while you are off pretending to be engaged.”

  He chuckled darkly, sinking his body more firmly in between my thighs and rubbing his length up and down my drenched core, further combusting the lust filled air between us. I moaned and arched my back, seeking more of the sweet friction he granted me but then he slowed, lifting his body, leaving me cold and wanting.

  “If I remember correctly, you decided to dance with the devil and the devil always leads.” I pouted at him and he stroked my cheek possessively. “I won’t leave you wanting for much longer though.” He pressed a deep kiss, opening me up to him and quickly ridding me of the ratty sleep-shirt I usually wore. If he was going to faff around with a fake engagement, I wasn’t going to indulge him with seductively skimpy and silky lingerie. Fuck that. A girl needs commitment before that comes out.

  He gazed at me appreciatively, running a finger over my breasts, toying with one nipple and biting down hard on the other causing me to moan further, arching my back, and pressing myself closer against him. He sucked harder, taking it all into his mouth and ran another finger down to trace my soaked pussy, slipping it into my slit just a fraction. I rocked against his hand, trying to get him to go further and release the tension coiled up tightly in my centre but he just chuckled. “Blaise,” I snapped, annoyed.

  “Shhh…” He kissed my cheek as I impatiently began to unbutton his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. I gasped when I could feel his naked chest against mine and rubbed myself up against him, before moving onto his trousers. He allowed me to undress him and, finally naked, he kissed me again. It was intense and passionate, robbing me of oxygen, invading my senses until I was a molten puddle of desire under him, desperate for release.

  As he pressed himself against my slit, I froze, tensing up. He noticed and paused, looking down at me in concern. “Are you okay? Is this okay?”

  I smiled, relaxing from his concern. “It’s a refreshing change to hear that,” I joked. His expression darkened and I laughed lightly, not wanting to broach that topic right now. “Everything’s fine.” I kissed him reassuringly before continuing somewhat nervously, pressing my face into his shoulder and mumbling. “I just don’t know if I can do it if you’ve been with Isadora, especially without a condom.”

  Silence pulsed between us. I hadn’t wanted to ask but it was clear my body had a different agenda and I cringed against his shoulder, worried that this would push him away. Eventually, he tilted my chin up to look at him. “She’s gasping for it, but we haven’t. I swear it. I swear it on my brothers’ life and my life. I wouldn’t do that to you, Xanthe.” He paused, sighing. “I don’t think I could do it with her.”

  I assessed his expression and exhaled in relief. Truth leaked from every pore in his expression and I felt vindictive satisfaction. Isadora would be so mad that he hadn’t taken that step with her. Because of me. “Thank you,” I murmured, kissing him deeply.

  He exhaled in answering relief and kissed me back with just as much fervour, slowly sinking himself deep inside me. I gasped as my body accommodated his girth, and ever so slowly, he began to rock back and forth, reigniting the lust-fuelled bonfire between us. I matched his strokes, lifting up my hips, greedily trying to get him to go deeper. Blaise laughed and murmured, “Always so needy.” He kissed me again, picking up the pace, slamming into me, granting me the release my body so desperately desired. The release hit me so hard that sparks danced in my vision, my walls clamping down on Blaise who roared out an answering release, spilling himself deep inside me. Marking me. Claimin
g me. Consummating our insanity.

  We lay like that a while longer, catching our breaths before he rolled off me, pulling me tight against him, stroking my hair. After a while he pulled away to reach over the side of the bed to his discarded suit jacket and, propping myself up, I saw him withdraw a joint from the suit pocket.

  He settled back next to me, lighting it up, the cherry bright against the dimness of the room and filling the space with the sweet smell of marijuana. He exhaled, passing it over to me. “I’ll figure this out,” he chuckled. “It is entirely your fault you know.”

  “It is not. Like you could stay away from me,” I laughed, exhaling.

  “I did try to warn you off me but you somehow wormed your way in.” Blaise took it back, inhaling deeply.

  I snuggled in next to him, the joint further relaxing my sated body. “You’re lucky I came crawling back to you. Most girls would have written you off as a psycho after how you tried to push me away.” I took it back off him, taking another hit. “Good thing I’m not like most girls. And also,” I looked up at him. “When we’re truly together, you will grovel.”

  He laughed at that and then went quiet, contemplative. “It’d be a privilege.”

  I stared at him, panic choking me. “It must work, Blaise. It will. You will do everything you can to rid yourself of this hateful society. The Club.”

  He exhaled, anger tensing his muscles and he got out of bed, punctuating his words with the joint. “I’d love nothing more but this is what you don’t understand. It is easier said than fucking done. No, I can’t snap my fingers because some gorgeous girl has wormed her way into my heart.” He paused, inhaling another deep hit and I propped myself up, stressed at his anger, fear beginning to slither through my veins. He looked every inch the wannabe mobster, the ruthless killer in that moment. He stared at me, accusingly, “And like we discussed, you are no fucking better with the way Xander controls you. It would be so much simpler had you let me go.”

  “And could you let me walk away? You are just as possessed by what we have as I am.” Blaise took another hit, staring at me as I scrambled to process what he was saying. Slowly, I got out of bed and walked over to him, taking the joint before inhaling one last pull and extinguishing it. He took my hand gently, pinning me against the wall, and I gazed up at him, stroking his cheek with my other hand. “Can’t you see? We’re too far gone for that ever to be a possibility.” I kissed him, allowing him to pick me up and curl up next to me in bed stroking my hair.

  I was half asleep when I noticed him place a note on the pillow and walk out of the room. I was too exhausted to fight him on that. I was too exhausted to even discuss the encounter with his brother earlier. It caused unnecessary tension. Unnecessary drama. I wanted to enjoy our time together because after the hedonism we had to go back to playing our parts. To always avoiding suspicion.

  Xanthe

  It was with relief that Noelle dragged me along to her friend’s birthday brunch on Saturday because I woke to a tear-stained pillow in a room that had the lingering smell of mine and Blaise’s union the night before. The other side of the bed was painfully absent, his words doing little to alleviate the tension I felt:

  * * *

  My dearest Xanthe,

  * * *

  How I’d love to wake next to you as we did in Paris but we have to continue to play our parts. It would only cause suspicion if I wasn’t found in my bed, as my brothers, especially Ludo and Bastien, already seem to suspect too much. Even Elliott is on our case so we must be more careful going forward.

  We will break free of our gilded cages.

  * * *

  Blaise xx

  * * *

  Short and perfunctory. I noted that he was unaware that Bastien had agreed to help us and wondered whether I should worry about that. He had promised me that, as Gemma’s friend, he would help but I hadn’t heard a squeak. It sounded disconcertingly like an empty fucking promise.

  I got all glammed up with Noelle and we went on to have a fun-filled, boy-free Saturday getting up to mischief. It was times like this that I wondered why I had allowed myself to free-fall into such insanity because all I really needed were my girls but I guess the universe had other ideas.

  Another worrying feature of the weekend, and indeed for the week, was Xander’s silence. I had assumed that, as he was free for most of the weekend, he would try to spend as much time with me, asserting his ownership, but instead I got silence. Most people said no news was good news but in his case it was worryingly ominous, especially as there was so much that had been left unsaid after the event on Friday.

  I had received one message on Saturday:

  * * *

  Xander: Little Doll, don’t misbehave too much this weekend. I will see you soon xx

  * * *

  I had replied:

  * * *

  Me: Am I not seeing you this weekend? Looking forward to seeing you soon xx

  * * *

  All that remained was the indication that he had read it and no answer. Luckily, work soon came around on Monday and navigating that was enough to distract me. Jaz was of course a passive-aggressive grenade for the whole week, lording it over me that not only had she gone to the afterparty, but she had taken Phoebe and India with her because they could be trusted, unlike me. I bit my tongue and held back a scathing comment that I couldn’t care less.

  I could hear them talking about a pub lunch to celebrate the success of the event and I sighed, resigning myself to be left in the office to man the phones. It was so sunny outside as well…it would be so lovely to leave the office. I was surprised when India said, “Hey, Xanthe, want to come too?”

  Seems like I must have done something right, so I responded, probably over-eager, but, fuck it, I just wanted a glass of rosé in the sun. “I’d love to!”

  My eagerness for rosé and the glorious day masked the unusual invite. I stupidly hadn’t questioned it but soon enough, as we were walking along the river to the pub, Jaz came up behind me and said, “How about we just have a little chat, yeah?”

  Immediately my guard was up. What had I walked into? With dread, I allowed her to let the others walk on in relatively privacy. “Is everything okay?”

  “No. It is not. It isn’t okay that I had to spend the weekend comforting my best friend who was upset that her fiancé didn’t want to stay over with her, let alone spend any time with her on the weekend. Pretty unusual behaviour, don’t you think?”

  I feigned innocent concern, trying to mask the panic coursing through my veins. “Shit, hope Izzie’s okay?”

  She looked at me with disgust. “Only friends like me and Xander can call her that. And for the record, do you not even care about him? He was so lovely when I met him.”

  I shivered. Shit. She knew. “What do you mean?”

  “Fuck’s sake. Quit this innocent bullshit and let me just list the reasons; that little bathroom chat at work last week, your reunion at the engagement party which I saw as well by the way. It was so fucking bold, as if you wanted to be caught. Then the party on Friday where India saw you leave a closet, you come up with some bullshit excuse, only for her to see Blaise leave a few seconds later. It doesn’t take a genius to work out who’s taking up Blaise’s time.” Jaz paused, letting her words sink in. I felt ill. I thought we had been careful but clearly not. I was about to say something and she continued. “Save it. Worst thing is that I know you won’t stop and I get it, it’s shit that there’s this pre-arranged marriage. I don’t get why you posh fuckers have to do this because as far as I can see it’s making Isadora sick with worry, her depression is creeping back, and I don’t want that. She could barely leave her bed on Saturday. I want her to be happy. Look, I tolerated you. I don’t like how easy you’ve had life handed to you but I can move on with that. But you’ve crossed a line with this. I’m sorry but, frankly, I don’t think your life will be impacted. You’re still a sad little rich girl who will go crying to your family but then you’ll forget abou
t it with Xander. You’re such a classic spoilt brat, sulking about the one thing you can’t have.” Jaz sneered at me, contempt rolling off her in sickening waves. “You disgust me and I think this is the least that you fucking deserve.”

  And on that she stormed off to join the others, leaving me in a wake of confusion and dread. Scrambling to catch-up with the situation. What the fuck had happened? Or should I say what was going to happen? Could it get much worse?

  We arrived at the pub that Mint Catering & Events favoured and settled ourselves in the garden with much needed glasses of wine. I watched as Phoebe, India and Jaz gossiped together, while I tried to figure out what they were going to do. I could barely enjoy the food but I forced it down to remain level-headed. It would be foolish to get wine drunk when I needed my wits about me. I waited until the food had been cleared away and a sated lull descended on the group. Jaz looked around and I swallowed. She smiled at me malevolently and gestured to India who sat up and cleared her throat drawing everyone’s attention to her.

  “Wow. What an amazing lunch. I just wanted to say thank you for all your support with the event last week. It was such a success! Not only are they going to keep us on as their preferred caterers but we got some fantastic coverage in the Evening Standard, The Times, and on The BBC, to name a few.” She paused while everyone smiled and clapped politely. “Obviously I know this was a team effort but special thanks have to go to those who were waiting at the event. I’ve already sent a thank you gift to our agency as they, as usual, went above and beyond with the staff provided but I just wanted to give a special thanks to a member of our team; Phoebe. You did a fantastic job and you showed exactly how hard you’re willing to work to succeed.” She raised her glass to the girl in question who was blushing furiously in the corner.