My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 65

"Stop!" I said, trying to plant my feet on the slippery floor, "I don't want this. I'm waiting for someone."

The girl with the green hair turned around. She didn't let go of my wrist. She just tilted her head and gave me a wide, messy smile. Her eyes looked like they were seeing things that weren't there.

"Waiting?" she laughed, "In this house, nobody waits for anything. You just take what you want."

"I'm serious," I said, "I don't want to be a part of this. Whatever this 'sacrifice' thing is... I'm not doing it."

I reached up to my neck, my fingers fumbling with the silk knot. But the other two girls grabbed my hands and pulled them down. They were giggling, their faces red from the heat and the drinks.

"No, no, no," one of them whispered into my ear. "The pink is for the ones who haven't played the game yet. You can't take it off. Not until a King decides the game is over."

I looked at them, "A King?"

They all looked toward the high table where Raphael and Dante sat. Then they looked back at me and burst into a fresh wave of laughter.

"Oh, she is going to be so much fun!" the green-haired girl cheered. She clapped her hands together. "Look at her face!"

"She's so fresh," another girl said, touching the fabric of my black top. "The men in black are going to go crazy when they see a pink ribbon in the middle of the floor. It’s been months since we had a new one."

I pulled back, but they just leaned into me, treating me like their favorite new doll. They didn't listen to a word I said. To them, my fear was just part of the show.

"Don't be scared, pretty girl," the green-haired girl said, pulling me back toward the bright lights.

I looked around the room for Ciro, for a door, for anything familiar. But all I saw were red ribbons and black bands.

A low hum crawled through the speakers, deeper than the music, like something waking up under the floor. The girls around me paused.

People slowly turned their heads toward the center of the room. Then the main lights dimmed, not completely but just enough to make the shadows stretch longer along the walls.

A man stepped onto the raised platform near. He wore a dark mask that hid his face, his hands resting behind his back like a priest about to start a sermon. The light from the chandeliers above turned red.

“Ladies… and gentlemen.”

A few drunken cheers answered him, howls and laughter.

“Tonight… we honor an old tradition.”

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