CHAPTER 07:

The warmth brands into me as Charleston grabs my hand and holds our fingers out, before I rest the other on his shoulder. He's quiet for a long moment.

I glanced over his arm, the elite were all here with half eaten meals. So this is what Ballard must have spoken of when, "Ask." I told him.

He keeps his eyes above my head, "My father's in the hospital." He says to me, eyes colder than glacial ice while his hands were pulling me closer. His fingers on the small of my back spread and the hand cupping mine moved in.

I tilt my head, "While I'm not sad about it, that wasn't my doing."

"I know it wasn't your doing. However, he's got a concussion, three bruised ribs, sprained wrist and a broken nose." He informs me.

"Why do I need to know that?" I mutter in annoyance. That hand moves lower. I grit my teeth as he presses his hips against my abdomen. Ugh, I wore the wrong dress to this. The neck holder was one thing, but backless with a low neckline at the front and his cologne that wafted through me. An expensive waterfall mixture with mint and spice, the musky kind as well.

"I want you to ice my hand later." He whispers down to me.

I pause, wait—what?

I narrow my eyes and meet piercing silver ones, "You didn't do nearly enough damage then." He looks at me with an impure, tormented expression. It's there in his eyes as the expression moves to a heated desire deep in his gaze. Other couples begin dancing softly to the suspenseful music.

His full lips lean in closer, I tilt my eyes back over his shoulder in stoic exhaustion, "I'm tired, and I haven't eaten." I mutter, removing my hand from his. His other one slides around my hip, pressing against the skin there.

"You're going to make me sit at a distance and watch you all night?" He asks me, unmoving.

I inwardly snort and look up at him, "I had to. It's your turn." I bite, stepping out of his arms.

"Alexandrine," He says behind me, "It isn't." He insists, before spinning me in. I keep my eyes narrowed as his arms clutch under mine and band around me, leaving no room to breathe, let alone move. I wrap my arm around his neck and tighten. Tighten to the point where he taps my bottom in retaliation. I hear him clear his throat as I pull away, but not before I cup his neck, under his chin and tighten there too. His eyes flash with a mixture of frustration and heated passion.

"You couldn't handle me then and you can't now. Return to your own table. I haven't had lunch because of Devon's little shit of a son attempting to hurt my daughter." I grit out, puffing before letting him go when he drops his fingers. My fingers left a mark close to his neck and I could've sworn his slacks tightened. When I sat back down, Lilly was giving me a wide-eyed look, slightly red in the cheeks too.

"That was...gossip you need to share." Lilly whispers to me. My lips twitch up as I lean down toward her half way through eating, when a hand descends on my shoulder. A callous one. Slowly, I looked up in confusion and there he stood. I couldn't understand the meaning of him at first. His dark brown eyes were a stark contrast to his sharp pale skin, high cheekbones. Lean and different. I was looking at the boy I once knew in the orphanage when I was too young. I tilt my head at him. Sawyer Beau. His pitch black hair was slightly wavy, curled at his cheekbones, and stayed at that length around his head. He was six years old when I was bought by Vernon. By the gang. I helped the eldest girls take care of him.

"You've grown." I whisper in Italian down to him. He closes his eyes and leans in, I do the same and embrace him, "How did you find me?" I ask him softly, diverting back to English.

He tucks his head into my neck, "Your book." His black suit thinned around him.

I pull back and grin at him, "I knew you'd survive, little coyote," I murmur, "When did you get on Graviton?" I ask him, shocked at his presence as my sweetheart steps up and furrows her eyebrows up at Sawyer.

"I recognise you." She whispers, Sawyer widens his eyes as he looks down at her.

"She's exactly like you." He murmurs, Lyra giggles and nods before recognising him as Sawyer, she says 'hello' in Italian and then proceeds to ask him the same question I did. He looks between us, straightening up slowly.

"For twelve years now," He looks between us, before nodding to the piano on stage, "I play the piano for audiences sometimes, other times I garden and sculpture at the academy." He explains, my eyes widen as Lyra does the same. She peeks up on stage. Sawyer looks at me.

"Can I speak with you after I play?" He whispers. I nod to him, placing a hand on his shoulder with a promise in my eyes. He bows his head a little in acknowledgment before he moves up on stage. He begins playing that suspenseful, soft music. I watch Kline ask Lyra to dance. She giggles and grasps his hand before they move to a spot on the dance floor. Kline twirls her, I fold my arms and run my knuckles under my chin with a twitch of the lips.

Something suddenly tugs lightly on my dress.

I frown and look down where ember eyes pierce through mine.

I raise an eyebrow and squat down. He purses his lips, "Ms Duo, I wanted to apologise to you and Lyra." He whispers, eyes holding mine.

I reach down and tilt his chin slightly at the bruise against his jawbone, "Why did you target my Lyra? A girl showing she can go up against any boy." I say slowly, removing my hand from him. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.

"It was stupid." He mumbles.

I sigh and stand up, lowering my hand to him, "I know exactly why you did it, Bellamy, because I know your father, he teaches both women and men to think critically, strategically...the way he runs Cairo." I murmur, watching him. He stares up at me and nods, pouting a little before he tries to get rid of it.

It just so happened to be that Ballard and Eleanor sat with the Ultimate Elite members and Charleston's intense, indecipherable eyes watched me come closer. Ballard stops mid-conversation with Emmett as Eleanor smiles guiltily at me. I pick up Bellamy and give Ballard a look, "Did your father put you up to this, kid?" I ask Bellamy, lowering him into his seat next to Eleanor.

Bellamy scowls, "He didn't, I wanted to say sorry for what I said to Lyra." He grumbles, folding his arms as he looks back at the dance floor where Lyra and Kline are dancing. I didn't catch Charleston standing until Anastasia and Nolan moved up a seat and Charleston moved the chair next to me and exposed the seat to me.

I narrowed my eyes on him, before taking a seat with Bellamy on one side of me and Charleston, who moves his chair close against mine, "Who's the pianist?" He asks me, solidly.

I traipse my eyes to look at him, "An old friend."

"Looked more than that." He eyes me. His scent wafts through me while I lean back and just look at him in boredom.

"Wow, the sexual tension could cut the air better than any dagger."

I blink. Charleston blinks.

Ballard chokes on his drink.

Eleanor stares at her son in stunned horror.

I look at Bellamy, "He's seven, right?" I question, eyeing Eleanor now.

She rolls her lips in as Ballard cracks up laughing, throwing his head back while Emmett smirks at Charleston and me. Bellamy smirks, the kid smirks. I stare at him incredulously, "Keep smirking, kid, unless you want the whole table to know how you got that black eye." I point out.

Ballard smiles wide, "That's what we've been talking about the last hour. It's why embarrassed Bellamy over here ran to you. And he's jealous." He corrects. Winking at his son.

Bellamy growls, "I am not."

I narrow my eyes and look at Eleanor, this kid better not have a crush on my daughter. She winces and seems to know exactly what I'm saying. I raise both eyebrows at her, "No." I pinpoint.

"It's just a crush, Alex." She tells me.

"Yeah, love at first punch?" I ask, in disbelief.

Bellamy blinks up at me, "Love at first punch? No way, no—she was gonna get hurt on that field, Ms Duo. She wouldn't listen to me or my friends when that asshat Kilorn Bain tried to hit her in the head." He retorts.

"No cursing." I tell him at the same time Eleanor did and we glance at each other, she looks amused now.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, "Who's Kline Terrence anyway, he sounds like someone from a porn commercial?" He asks rudely.

I glance at him. Ballard cups his lips and cracks up again while Eleanor cups a hand over her son's mouth, "You—stop talking." The chair shakes a little next to me.

Charleston shoulders shake at his laughter, before I mindlessly knock my elbow in his chest in the right point to knock a lung. He coughs next to me before capturing that hand and intertwining our fingers, the other one rolls down my arm. Fingertips against skin. I narrow my eyes up at him, he's a breath away with eyes that penetrate mine.

"Do any seniors walk over to your district, Bellamy?" I ask, facing away from Charleston as I look down to Bellamy—who side-glances me and then the table. So, that's where the terminology came from.

"Kline is a good kid." I defend.

"He's a schmuck." Bellamy grumbles.

Eleanor leans down and picks up Bellamy, "Alright, you and I are going to have a long talk, boy." She says when he starts protesting. Chase and Nolan puff out their laughs while I stare at Ballard pointedly. Fingers continue rolling down past my inner arm and then along my rib cage from the back of my dress.

I lean in, "Enough." I ordered. He stopped his fingers, but his strong-willed expression only deepened as he leaned down and tilted his head, kissing my cheek. I pulled away from those lips and looked up at him, my eyes a stronger concoction of emerald green, I saw it in the reflection of his.

Before I produce the card between us, I drop it on the table, "You're all invited to the arena next Friday at nine pm, I look forward to the challenge." I murmur, standing up.

"You gonna wear a dress with no bra again?" Charleston asks me, stoically. However I watch him try to take deep breaths.

I turn to face him, before raising a brow, "You think this dress would look better with lingerie?" I wonder.

He narrows his eyes at me, "Don't toy with me."

I run my eyes down him, before I look above him and Rocco leans on the wall behind them with a cigarette, "Sawyer plays beautifully, doesn't he?" He notes, stepping forward. Charleston stares only at me, but Ballard stands slowly. Rocco gestures to him, "Relax, I'm here to speak with her, not cause trouble." He tells him.

Rocco watches me, eyes that roam over me, "He works for me too."

"Except I don't work for you, if anything, I'm a contractor. Or consultant, but nothing is permanent and we both know what can happen if you push me too far." I tell him, eyes penetrating his eyes.

"The old boss made you fearless, now look at you." Rocco gestures to me, I snatch the cigarette from his fingers and drop it in a glass, it sizzles while I step in close to him and tilt my head at him.

Rocco tenses in front of me. I eye him, "Don't speak of the dead, especially that monster. Giovanni assured me you would step up in your responsibilities. He raised Vernon, he raised the good of those who never deserved the harshness of that swine. You never speak of him, you don't cross the code and right now, you're walking on that barrier that I will crumble, considering I saved your life from prison time." I point at him, cutting into him.

"You rank lower than me." He grumbles.

"Is that what you keep telling yourself? Who is helping who here?" I demand to know.

He clenches his jaw, before stepping around me, "Giovanni has given me responsibility over you, why must I do it if you have everything handled, huh?" He asks me roughly in Italian this time.

I tilt my chin up and say in English, "Because no one is ever safe in this life or the next. Be a dragon, or its prey, Rocco. Don't attack another with wings without cause and be aware I have more than enough proof that I have helped you, not harmed you." I clarify his way.

He faces me and pulls a silver USB from his pocket, "This didn't come easy." He mutters, eyes never wavering.

"Nothing worth it ever does. You think hacking the Falcon network was easy?" I question him, raising a brow as I grab the USB. His eyes trail above me when fingers wrap around my waist and curl to my stomach.

Rocco scowls at him, before he leaves past the tables. I fold my fingers around the drive while Charleston squeezes me close, before he lowers down and picks up Lyra from the dance floor when she was running over and a couple almost didn't see her. He pulls her around him and nudges his head to the seats.

"Why don't you two have some real food?" He suggests and moves so a surprised Lyra sits on his lap. I sit down next to them and two waiters step in to serve a roast.