Although neither of us started a conversation that night, we both could sense the change in the atmosphere. She tried her best to stay calm and collected. But her breathing and the subtle rise and fall of her chest gave her away.
I could sense her unease and the nervousness she tried to mask. Honestly, I was affected too, but unlike her, I was a master at hiding my emotions. I kept my breaths even and my heartbeatsteady. The last thing I wanted was for her to see right through me.
This was a game, and I was in charge.
But how true was that?
“Earth to Tarasov,” Nial’s voice cut through my thoughts.
I shifted my gaze to him.
He sat on the couch across from me, holding two women in his arms. His black jacket was draped over the armrest, and the top four buttons of his crisp white undershirt were undone.
Nial’s dark hair was tousled as usual, his storm-grey eyes catching glistening in the lights. Stray stands framed his face, making him look a bit unkempt. Yet classy. And dangerous.
The son of a gun was my cousin, a madman—chaos disguised as charm. He was clever, unpredictable, and far too smooth for his own good. People often thought that he was nice. But that was the biggest misconception of the century.
The reason I called him a madman was because hewasa madman.
Nial would laugh with his victims and make them feel comfortable right before pulling the trigger. Because of his sense of humor and wit, people often thought that he was the better man.
They were wrong.
He was as bad as the rest of us. Maybe even worse. At least with me, my victims knew what to expect when they messed up. With Nial, it was impossible. The mad man used humor to disarm and sin to distract.
Those who knew him feared him, more so whenever he looked like he was in a good mood. Nial could literally be making a joke and laughing while he chopped his victims to pieces.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, adjusting in his seat as the women’s manicured hands caressed his chest. “You look distracted.”
I glanced down at the untouched glass of vodka on the low table in front of me. “I have a lot on my mind.” I leaned in and lifted it to my lips.
“Yeah, right.” He let out a quiet chuckle. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with your little prisoner.” The sarcasm in his tone couldn’t be more glaring.
Silence.
He raised his brows, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You sneaky bastard.” Nial laughed, as though he’d just read my mind. “She’s in your head, isn’t she?”
I sipped my drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Like hell you do,” he pressed on, his eyes pinned on me. “You know what I think…I think you’ve developed some kind of liking for her.” The slight pause came when he leaned in to take a closer look at me. “I mean, why else would she still be living inyourhouse after what she did?”
I didn’t respond, although deep down, his analysis was starting to get on my nerves.
“Wait a minute.” He cast a suspicious gaze at me, his head tilting slightly to the side. “Did you already eat of the fruit of pleasure and ecstasy?” A mischievous smirk slowly spread across his face.
“Mind your fuckin’ business,” I said bluntly.
He laughed, leaning back into the couch. “You fuckin’ cunt.” He crossed his legs. “So that’s why you’re so distracted, huh.”
“Can’t a man just zone off in peace?” I sipped from my glass.
“Not while surrounded by such beautiful women.” He threw flirtatious glances at them, one at a time.
I hesitated for a moment. “I haven’t eaten from any tree.”
He paused, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “That’s a shame.”
I scoffed and drained the remaining drink down my throat.