Chapter Six: She Fights Back

(Mila POV)

I wake with his rules still running through my head. It is worse than a headache. The expectation Luca has is ridiculous. And with those stupid rules, I am in turmoil. And now, I feel a headache coming on; just fucking great. Light shines through my window, reminding me it's day and that hiding up here won't work anymore. 

I shouldn't care, actually. I shouldn't allow Luca Moretti to take control over me. But here I am, allowing Luca to get under my skin, which is worse than an itch I can't scratch. But somehow, he's there in my head. 

His rules aren't guidelines; they are more like chains. Each rule was like a shackle to make me toe the line he drew on the ground. I don't need this shit in my life again. Isn't this one of the reasons I ran away? To not be in another man's possession. 

So, I'm going to do what I want. I'm going to dig my heels in and push back. I won't allow him to control my life—not in an obvious way, not in a way that would risk my job, but just enough to let him know I don't belong to him.

 As soon as I enter Crimson, it begins. Tasha's glare cuts through me like a bullet from a loaded gun, cold and laced with venom as she stands behind the bar, arms crossed and ready for battle. As I walk past the bar, Tasha leans over and starts tapping her long, witchy nails on the counter. If I have learnt one thing about her by now, she truly believes she is God's gift to all men. She made sure all the other servers feared her. I have seen how they circle her like she has the means to make them disappear with a spoken word.

I get it. Tasha is some kind of boss, but she isn't mine. I report directly to Nico. The one person whose guts she hates more than mine. Now, there's me, a nobody, an outsider in her domain. A girl who, after just two shifts, has already become the subject of whispered rumours, the topic of hushed conversations, and to top it all off, men have been asking after me, something she hates just as much. To her, it's a big deal because her attention from certain, if not most, men is dwindling.

"You think you're special, huh? " she snorts at me as I go by, low and snide. I go on, shoulders square.

"I think I have work to do," I say as I flip her off. Behind me, I hear her intake of breath, full of disbelief and irritation, like I physically slapped her. The air thickens. But for once, I'm unmoved, as I have a new purpose.

 Just as I put some distance between her and me, her voice rang out, cutting through the air

"Just remember, Mila, the boss gets bored easily." I froze briefly, wondering why she needed to voice that; what does she know that I don't? But despite the thought, I refused to grant her the satisfaction of knowing it hit home. I picked up my pace again, every step a silent promise I wouldn't become her next puppet.

As I rounded the corner, I felt Luca's steady, sceptical stare on me, following me as I walked back. Every time I went on the floor, every order I took, every time I strayed too close to a guy, I sensed his eyes on me, possessively calculating my every move.

The stakes have just gone up, Mr. Moretti; I think its fucking showtime. I know I'm playing a dangerous game. I shouldn't push the limits he's set, but I do. I give sweet, sassy smiles to some of the regulars. Just a tiny rebellion, my smiles linger moments longer than they should, attracting playful banter that flits through the air like I am making illicit arrangements. I let them flirt and touch me softly, even leaning in closer to catch the whisper in some of their ears, pretending I could not hear them otherwise. Instead of brushing them off like Luca insisted I should, I do all this.

I don't want their attention, not really. I just can't let Luca define how I'm supposed to act in this place, in my life. And he notices. I catch sight of him in the VIP section. His eyes are dark and brooding, and he looks down at me and notices my actions. His jaw is clenched, muscles tight. I can see he is resisting the urge to step in. The next moment, he snaps his fingers, and a hulk takes me by the arm and drags me to the back.

"Hey... get your fucking hands off me, dude." I yank my arm loose, rubbing the spot he grabbed me on. "WTF do you think you're doing?" Hulk just shrugs, then walks out.

Once he left, Nico walked in, concern etched on his face.

"Are you okay, Mila?" I nod. Then he throws me a curveball. "You back behind the bar with me, girl."

I opened my mouth to say something but stopped. Because when I looked up, I saw Luca grinning at me before taking a slow sip of his whiskey. Wanting, hell, even daring me to go against this new order. He is actually hoping to provoke me into disobeying him again. And if by the looks of him, I would say that look says, "Do it, because I will come for you next." There's something sinister about how he looks at me, deep and dark, intoxicating, thrilling, and dangerous. And If I let myself get caught up in that? I won't come out unscathed.

So, I did what everyone would do in this situation. I walked behind the bar and started to abide by his rules. Fuck, I am a lapdog. All of a sudden, I hear a deep voice behind me. "So you're the girl who got Luca acting all nuts. " I turn suddenly, my heart beating a frenzied tattoo against my ribs. There stand two men, like shadows amid the crowd, evoking the same sense of authority and threat that Luca does. The crowd around them recedes as if they are commanding it.

The tallest of them, a gorgeous man, leans forward a bit. He is a tower of muscle and menace, a smile spreading across his face and jagged edges as he grins, but it is more of an implied threat. I look at him, "I think you have mistaken me for someone else, sir." 

"Oh no, sweetie. "I don't make mistakes," the man, I think called Victor, drawls, sounding arrogant.

I think the man to his right, Adrian, is intently staring at me, scrutinising my every move and expression.

"Are you kidding me?" he asks, his voice steady but determined.

 My stomach drops. Waves of panic flood my body. They see through me, pulling back layers I don't want them to see. I felt vulnerable then, but I refused to let them intimidate me. I raise my chin, choosing fight or flight. "Would it matter if I was?" I say, my voice calmer than it feels.

A moment passes, words unspoken, the air tense. Then Viktor's grin widens, the knowledge in his eyes showing he knows the risk I just took. As I stared at them, I suddenly realised who they were, all from rumours. His brothers. They are not brothers by blood, though. Yet they grew up together and built empires together. Only a select few get the privilege to talk with them, and most others who try die. And I, Mila, was extremely lippy to both of them. Fuck my life. They turned and left to walk up to the VIP section.

So when Nico guides me toward the VIP lounge, I'm suspicious and, honestly, scared. "They wanted to meet you," Luca suddenly informs me casually. "What?" I ask, my eyebrows furrowed. "Who? Why me?" He grins, and a twinkle in his eyes makes me think he's enjoying my discomfort. "The guys you just met downstairs, the other two of the Crimson Kings Trio, we rule this city," he says, low and menacing.

I suddenly realised I should have run away and not followed Nico. But before I could respond, a low, resonant voice cut through the noise, making the hairs on my arms stand up. "So, Mila Hart, is it? Is that your name, or do we get to call you something else?"

I swallowed hard, but he kept talking. "Are you lying or hiding something, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice steady but determined. My stomach dropped, and waves of panic flooded my body once again.

A moment passes, with many words unspoken, but primarily by me, the air tense. Then Viktor's grin widens, the knowledge in his eyes showing he knows something. Finally, Luca says something, patiently, yet on the edge. "Leave her be for now," he says, his voice low and smooth, a warning that sounds like it comes from a place of authority rather than caution. Viktor looks at him.

Adrian says softly, "You know that in our world, secrets get people killed." I swallow, feeling the weight of his words hit me like a wave that sinks to my chest.

It's a warning;

I know that much,

but I'm not sure if it's a warning to them.

It was a warning to me