There was a sort of melody to the way each individual reacted to the scene at hand. Backs drawn straight, shoulders squared up, eyes sharp and watchful; hands lingering either on the cold, deadly steel resting inside their coats, or ready to grab anything else in a second of fight or fightā¦because there would be no flight in this company. One could take this moment, attach classical music to it, and call it art for those more fortunate to gaze longingly at.
Reactions were quick, swift here and taunt there, a group of those waiting for orders, and a handful of those ready to take action. It was no surprise to Dominic when Jona moved first. Limp or no, a man protecting what he owned was no less threatening than a lion protecting itās young. The strike that landed across Zās back wasnāt a winning blow, but instead a warning; one Dom hoped Bel would take in stride. Gunner obviously waiting for a reason, waiting for Dominic to let go of his leash so he could just pounce. Each detail swirled around him while his jaw clenched, teeth ground together.
After the initial violence of first responders, there was a silence through The Little Lady as Kingpin and Chef faced one another, separated only by the dark threat resting in Belās outstretched hand. The words from the oldest Zaireās lips rang through Domās head, wrapping around his mind in a vice grip that refused to let go and promised to seep poison all the way down to his heart. Protect your family; said in so many different tongues he wasnāt sure if he even knew who was who anymore. It wasnāt the first time he would hear it, and it certainly wouldnāt be the last. The sacred law. The one rule. Necessary, regardless of the evils of the trade. Necessary.
Small, pale, fragileā¦placing herself in the middle of a fire just waiting for a chance. Brave, or ignorant, depending on where one stood. Willing to be burned by the wildfire that would strike eventually, because Cristobel Zaire was a match that would never be put out. Not by her or any other. Not by those who grew in the dark, or by those who could see the shards of broken light.
Surprising control, eased tension, slowly lowered violent promises. Dominic met Gunnerās gaze first, giving a slow nod before his brother slumped against the bar, still vibrating with tension. Next, Simonās, eyebrows raised, a question that didnāt have to be asked. Dominic gave another nod, assuring. Sennaās voice, catching his attention, adding her belief that Bel needed to leave, get out, go. A goddess in the sea of a world unholy, babyās-breath decorating her hair even after all the years, shining too brightly not to be in the nights skyā¦
āDonāt you fucking look at herā piecing through his heart shaper than any blade that had ever done the same to his skin. Dominicās gaze never faltered, watched the shudder of small shoulders from the uneasy breath. Until Bel was gone, and distraction came in purr he knew all too well, behind a veil of lightly blown smoke.
Large brown eyes blinked up at him, lush pouty lips curving into a slow smirk as soft fingers glazed over his, dislodging the glass of whiskey he still had a firm grip on. He let it go, tension dropping from his shoulders with the knowledge that it was over.
She had always been good at distracting him from the messes laid at his feet. Heād much rather lose himself in her, fingers tangled through long brown hair, hands pressed to curves he knew all too well. His eyes slid over the tight material of her dress, caught on the deep dip of the neckline that left little to the imagination of the swell of her chest. Tongue swiping across his bottom lip before he placed his cigar between his teeth once more, accepting the press of a glass back into his palm.
He followed her attention across the room, watched with tightness in his muscles as Gunner drew up next to Senna. Gathering a comment on the back of his tongue, he was relieved slightly to see the man go for his wallet instead. Good man, Dominic thought with vague approval. Mend bridges, before they fall to pieces.
"Never mind, I think I can guess." As Dominicās gaze continued to travel, her words left him with the reminder that heād never been attracted to innocence. Dark hair, mischievous eyes, and mildly damaged. Didnāt matter the gender, hardly mattered the person; felt like home, felt like something he knew how to handle. Something he refused to think on moreā¦Apt fingers switched smoke for the burn of alcohol, and Dom gave one affirming nod to the woman in front of him.
āMmhmm.ā