CHAPTER 59: 59

"An Old Cuban cocktail," Tommy ordered, taking a seat on the stool. He received only a nod from the bartender, who returned to his previous task.

"A glass of Vieux Carré and a French 75," came a voice that was tiny yet bold, resonating with a clarity that commanded attention despite its delicate volume. She spoke sparingly, but her words carried an audacious presence, cutting through the surrounding noise with striking audibility. Her accent, reminiscent of a siren’s song, wove a melodic and enchanting quality into her speech, captivating all who heard it with its ethereal charm.

"A minute, ma’am," the bartender said, bowing as he picked up a few glasses and mixed their contents. Tommy watched curiously, wondering why she was being served first despite his earlier order. He remained calm, intrigued by the unfolding scene.

"Excuse me, but.. " His words caught in his throat.

She was a vision of striking contrast and allure. Her dark skin gleamed with an almost otherworldly beauty, highlighted by her captivating Bambi brown eyes. The dark eye makeup she wore intensified her gaze, making her eyes pop with a haunting allure that silently instilled fear in those who met her gaze. Despite the small cloth partially obscuring her face, her presence was overpowering a dark, heavy aura that spoke volumes without a single word.

Her gown, cut high to reveal a hint of her thick thigh, was adorned with a delicate leg chain that accentuated its graceful curve. Yet, it was the butterfly-design waist beads that truly captivated him. They peeked through the open sides of her gown, their intricate patterns accentuating her waist and adding an element of ethereal beauty to her already formidable presence.

"Yes?" she asked, tilting her head. Tommy found himself at a loss for words, his throat dry. "Rude," she commented before turning on her heel and walking away. Tommy, confused, turned back to his drink, wondering what had just happened.

"Are you ready?" A hand on his shoulder made him turn to find Xavier, whose face was swollen.

"What happened?" Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"I just met with Louis Moreau," Xavier said, his tone dramatic. "He seemed so happy. I doubt if I should tell him that today is his last day on this sweet earth while he’s enjoying these lovely, expensive drinks." He raised his glass theatrically, and Tommy couldn’t resist rolling his eyes.

"No wonder Nix couldn’t trust him with this mission. He always gets lost in his own world," Tommy said, shaking his head as he set off to find the reason he was brought to this extravagant celebration. All he needed to do was attach a tracker to her and get out, but how?

As if his prayers were answered, he spotted her storming toward the garden. Without a second thought, he rushed after her, but suddenly lost sight of her.

"Nix is going to kill me if I don’t get this done!" he muttered, running his hand through his hair as he frantically searched for a solution. Suddenly, he was on high alert as he felt someone sneaking up behind him. Before he could react, a heavy kick landed in his stomach.

Looking up, he saw the lady from the bar glaring down at him, her eyes cold as she clicked her tongue.

"Useless!" she spat, about to leave. She stopped when she saw Tommy getting up.

"Who are you?" he demanded, but his question was met with a blow, which he quickly blocked. He pulled her closer, holding her hand behind her back.

"And why did you just attack and insult me?" he asked as she struggled to break free. He wasn’t planning on letting her go until she gave him an answer. However, she had other plans and delivered a brutal kick to his groin, making him stumble backward and fall to his knees.

She turned to face him, pointed a finger, and then curled her hand into a fist as if suppressing her anger before striding away..

Struggling to his feet, pain radiating from the brutal kick he’d just endured, he cursed his luck for ever getting involved with that woman. He should have just stuck to finding Carmela. Now, not only had he lost his drink, but he had also failed the mission that brought him here.

The night had spiraled into a nightmare, and with each passing second, he realized how much he had missed a critical opportunity. The frustration boiled within him as he reached for his phone. The moment he picked up, Nix’s commanding voice cut through the noise, "Come to the parking lot."

Determined, he pushed through the agony and started making his way back to the party, only to be greeted by chaos. The once elegant gathering had descended into pandemonium. Guests were screaming, shoving, desperate to escape. Had the deed already been done? He wondered, his eyes locking onto a waiter sprinting in his direction.

"What happened?" He demanded, grabbing the waiter by the arm and pulling him back.

"Mr. Moreau just got assassinated," the waiter stammered. The news didn’t surprise him, but it intensified his need to get out of there fast.

"Is there another way out?" He asked, his voice low and urgent. The waiter hesitated, clearly weighing his options. With an impatient sigh, he dug into his pocket, slipping some cash into the man’s hand.

"Follow me," the waiter muttered, leading him toward the kitchen. As they reached the back door, the waiter paused, turning to him with a dramatic flair. "We never met," he said before opening the door and swiftly shutting it behind him, leaving Tommy staring at the closed door in bewilderment.

A shout pulled him back to the present. "Let’s go!" Xavier was waving frantically, urging him towards the car. Without another thought, he ran, adrenaline driving him forward as they drove into the night.

Elsewhere, Carmela leaned out of the car window, her fingers gliding through the cool evening air as it rushed past. The night was quiet, the hum of the car’s engine the only sound breaking the stillness. As they sped down the deserted road, she released her hair from its confines, letting it cascade freely, the wind catching it and sending it swirling around her face. For a brief moment, the tranquility of the night embraced her, offering a rare and fleeting sense of peace amidst the chaos that had overtaken her life.

"What’s going on in that head of yours?" Damian’s voice cut through the silence, soft but probing. She turned to him, a faint smile playing on her lips as she withdrew her hand back inside the car.

"Park the car," she murmured, her voice low but commanding. It was enough to make Damian’s hand tighten on the steering wheel as he quickly complied, pulling the car to a stop by the side of the road.

"Are you feeling sick?" Concern laced his words as he unbuckled his seatbelt, ready to check on her. But Carmela didn’t respond. Instead, she unfastened her seatbelt with deliberate slowness, then, in one smooth motion, slid across the seat, straddling him.

"Wh.." His question was cut off as she placed a finger against his lips.

"Shh, Mr. Floquet," she whispered, her voice holding an edge of playful danger. Damian swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to make sense of what she was doing. If she decided to kill him right now and dump his body, he realized, there would be little he could do to stop her, despite their differences in strength.

"Car..." His voice wavered, but the word died on his lips as she closed the distance between them, capturing his mouth with hers.

This wasn’t the first time they had kissed, but there was something different now, something intense and deliberate in the way she kissed him. She was yielding, yet there was an unmistakable force behind it, as if she were claiming him piece by piece. Damian’s hands moved instinctively, sliding from her back down to her waist, his touch hesitant yet eager, as if he were trying to decipher her intentions. But the more he kissed her, the more he realized he didn’t understand her at all.

"Car..." he managed to breathe against her lips, his chest heaving as he tried to keep up with the whirlwind she had unleashed. But before he could say anything more, she broke the kiss, retreating to her seat with an air of indifference.

"Boring," she muttered under her breath, turning her gaze back to the window. The sudden shift left Damian stunned, his mind reeling as he tried to grasp the meaning behind her erratic behavior. Still struggling to catch his breath, he refastened his seatbelt and restarted the car, resuming their journey. But now, he couldn’t help but steal glances at her every few moments, trying to unravel the mystery that was Carmela.

"Is it normal?" she asked, breaking the silence once again, her voice deceptively casual.

"What?" Damian responded, a wary edge to his tone.

"Being horny on my period," she said bluntly, her words direct, with none of the coyness he might have expected. The straightforwardness of her statement hit him like a punch, and Damian couldn’t stop himself from biting down on his lip to keep from grinning.

"She’s mine," he thought with a possessive satisfaction, stealing one more glance at her as he drove.