#Chapter 33 Elio

Mia The party was a cacophony of noise and movement. People laughed, drank, and danced, they all had the nerve to look fucking happy, drowning in their dark world and crimes. They were probably all just as bad, if not worse than Lorenzo. "Fucking smile." I said nothing. I didn't move, but my vision went black for a moment when he jabbed his gun into my side again. He pressed it hard. My eyes fluttered. My stomach lurched. "I said smile, bitch." I didn't. I stumbled, barely keeping up with Lorenzo. He continued, cursing and glaring at anyone who seemed to be about to say something or even looked like they weren't having a good time. Then, I noticed the man who had shot Marco near the back, lounging carelessly in his seat and watching over the rim of his glass of champagne. His eyes held a strange intensity, a flicker of something I couldn't quite decipher. It was a cold, calculating gaze, and it chilled me to the bone. Still, he recognized me. The man beside him looked to be we