3
Iknow Ambrose inside and out, but there are gaps in my knowledge.
Toying with her last week was fun. I knew she would come back, full of fire and determination and ready to conquer me. And now she’s come back to me, just a week later, confirming that I have her cornered.
She cannot under any circumstance regain her position in Glamorous. I forced her father to hand it over to me so I can hide my cash. Allowing her to work in the finance department would be asking for my own death sentence. Knowing her nature, her fierceness, and her desire to take back this company, she will do anything to bring me down; so I can’t give her any freedom or wiggle room.
As Remo asked of me, I will keep Ambrose close. Hiring her as my secretary should do the trick.
Only, her attitude and the way she bites back just as hard makes me want to bend her to my will.
I thought I was an easy-going guy, relaxed, calm, and a level-headed man in public, but something about Ambrose brings out a side of me that no one should ever see.
I want to conquer her. I want to break her to the point of no return, and I want to dim that fire in her. No one has presented me with a challenge like this before. I prefer my solitude, and I like my own company. Yet ever since I have been watching her, hidden in the shadows, I have been fascinated with the person she is at home and wondering exactly why she is so different from what she shows the world.
I’m only in London for two years, and I want to spend my time here well. Luckily for me, I’ve found myself a very interesting little obsession. One with such a strong fight in her that even if I grip her by the throat, she won’t stop kicking, trying to get away from me.
Dinner with Aurora, Remo, and his sister, Venezia, this evening is especially fun. The hostile energy oozing off Remo can be felt for miles, but I smile through it. It’s amusing to watch him be so protective of Aurora while she recovers from the aftermath of what happened to them both.
It surprised me that Aurora, for the second time, has wanted me here and extended the invitation to dinner. She should hate me for jeopardising her marriage with Remo, but she is grateful that I saved her. Regardless, I will take what I can get because not much has been given to me. I’ve always had to take what I wanted.
“How is your new role in Glamorous, Helia?” Aurora asks, her soft voice overlapping Remo and Venezia’s conversation.
I nod, glancing at my plate of lamb chops. Aurora made them, along with Caesar salad and a small side dish of garlic bread, which I discovered is a favourite of Venezia’s. There is the option of parmesan pasta, too, but everyone is diving into the lamb chops more than anything.
“Good.” A smirk travels across my face at the tasks I have thought up for Ambrose.
This morning, she was cooped up in her office. I could hear her grumbling whenever I stepped out of my office. She threw me a glare every time she saw me, but I gave her enough useless tasks to keep her busy and away from me as I try to form a new finance team with select hand-chosen people. I need people who are trustworthy.
“I know that look. Who are you thinking of torturing now?” Aurora raises a brow.
“Me? You got the wrong person, lady.”
She narrows her eyes, and I let a little truth spill. I can’t help it when I’m subjected to her intense gaze.
“Just a new hire at the company. She fights me too much, but her work is good. So I’m thinking of giving her some harder tasks.”
Aurora looks at me a second longer before nodding. There is uncertainty in her eyes, but I don’t care what she thinks about what I do.
“You kept her?” Remo asks, his dark eyes levelling on me.
His expression is bland, and he looks almost bored, but I know he has been listening the whole time. Remo Cainn is the epicentre of the elite circle in London. He is the owner of Vino Corporation, with its franchise of Giorgio Vino. The global wine company, founded by his grandfather, manufactures its wine in Italy and transports it across the globe. Many of its subsidiaries are tech companies reaching as far as Asia where its manufacturing plants are based, but he is also the supplier of glass wine bottles to his competitors, so he is able to stay ahead and keep a tight hold on them.
The power this man sitting in front of me holds is partly due to aid from me, but the reach and influence he has within the corporate world is insane. No other person has power even close to him. He has been able to hide his very dirty work while living in the heart of London because of me, a small shadow to be wielded as a ruthless weapon when necessary.
I helped Remo with his sister, Venezia, and in return, he owed me a favour. I cashed in that favour last year when I realised that my offshore account had been tracked down by US and UK intelligence and I needed a good-sized company to hide it.
“Hm… She was working until two weeks ago. I fired her because I don’t need her looking into the finances. She came back, so I took pity and gave her another position.” I shrug and look right into Remo’s eyes. He won’t find anything in mine, not with my years of practise of hiding my emotions.
Growing up on the streets makes you tough, and it helps you learn from your mistakes. Forces you to hide what you feel and makes you grow a spine of steel, so no one takes you lightly.
Remo nods once before his eyes slide to Aurora. She sits next to him, talking to Venezia, who sits next to me.
“Aurora, you have to bake me those croissants again. My stash is gone,” I say.
“And why would she do that? That’s for special people only. A.k.a. not you.”
I turn towards Venezia. She shrugs like she is the oh-so-special person she is talking about.
“And you are? I didn’t see you here when she was baking me all this.” I raise my brows.
Venezia scrunches her nose at me.
“Sure am. I don’t see you asking her politely. Fun fact, I am her favourite.” She sticks out her tongue.
I snatch the cupcake—the last one—from her hand and shove it in my mouth in one go.
“Hey! Helia! That was my last cupcake!” Venezia shouts.
Aurora laughs. “You guys need to calm down.”
Venezia whines about it like a damn child while I try to swallow the cupcake.
“Tastes like ass to me.” I wink at Aurora, who bites her lip to stop herself from laughing again.
“I promise you didn’t miss anything,” I assure Venezia.
If I were to truly upset her or Aurora, Remo, who is glaring at me, would quite literally throw me out of the house, then send me a bill for the food.
“Mind yourself, Helia. Insulting my wife’s cooking is not the way to keep getting invited here.” His voice is low, a clear threat.
I raise my hands in surrender, finally swallowing the last bit of cupcake. It was actually quite delicious. A lemon sponge cake with vanilla frosting.
A faint ringing of the doorbell has us all pausing, and shortly, Isabella, Remo and Aurora’s maid, walks into the dining area, her hands clasped softly in front of her. She’s a sixty-year-old lady with a soft demeanour and a smile for everyone, except me. That woman hates me for no apparent reason, and I love to poke her. She’s fun to mess with.
“Miss Ambrose Torre is here.”
My eyebrows perk up while Remo’s eyes narrow.
I give him a grin, getting up. “You guys continue. I’ll see what she wants.”
Aurora looks down at her plate, her mood instantly dropping, and Remo is quick to rub her back, murmuring something to her.
“Thanks, Isabella.” I wink at her on my way out.
She grumbles, shakes her head, and walks away.
Seems my little fighter is here for a battle I wasn’t invited to.
I step through the front door, softly shut it behind me, and cross my arms, leaning against the door frame, then watch her turn around. For some reason, that small action happens slowly, as if that moment was given to me to just… take her in.
The long straight blond hair. The suit that moulds to her curves. My eyes drop to her shoes. They are a colour I didn’t think she would ever wear. I’ve noticed her love for this colour, given the many little pieces she often wears. It makes me rage like never before when I spot her in it. My mind barely holding on at the sight of it on her. How could Ambrose, out of all the colours on this fucking earth, desire this colour?
Emerald.
A deep cool green colour associated with nature and freshness, a colour to balance everything. To see a woman like Ambrose wear it… It makes me want to rip off whatever article of clothing she has on with this colour. She shouldn’t be wearing my favourite colour on her body.
I may be a little fascinated with her, but I know her history. Her background and the long list of sins she has committed are nearly not enough to influence my opinion of her.
She’s quite foolish to be stepping a foot in this house.
We all make mistakes, and we all are forced to act upon wrong decisions when circumstances force us to, but Ambrose was anything but forced.
Everything was done by her own judgement, and with the power of her father, she was able to hide the fact that she ruined so many lives of people around her just because they made a small mistake.
I hate that I know this about her because it means that I care when I feel nothing but loathing towards her.
As soon as she turns around and those deep champagne eyes find me, rage fills them. Her hold on her bag tightens, as it always does when she tries to control her anger.
Her plump lips part. “Why are you here?” The distaste in her voice heats my own hatred.
I let an easy smile stretch across my face.
“I was invited for dinner. The question is, what are you doing here, Ambrose?”
Her name fills my mouth and softly glides off my tongue.
It shouldn’t.
It should feel like I just ate a cactus that is scratching at my throat with its spikes, but it doesn’t. It’s like my voice takes on a completely different tone when I say her name. It’s heavy, deep, demanding attention.
Her nostrils flare, and her eyes narrow.
“Dinner? You? Here, of all places?” She scoffs.
She crosses her arms and shifts her weight to one leg while crossing them. Her straight blond hair sways behind her. I can’t help but notice that the sharpness of her features enhances her fox-like appearance. Her eyes don’t stray from my face. I keep expecting her to look away the minute her gaze falls on my scar, to not be able to handle the intense colour of my eyes.
My eyes trail from her white-painted toes up her long legs wrapped in black tights up to her very sheer top where her breasts are being held captive with a black bra held up by thin straps. A tease. Her body is a fucking tease. The moment my gaze falls back on her piercing eyes, I can’t help the mental image of her stripping for me.
The desire in me doesn’t dim the hate or disgust I feel toward her, but it’s there, and it cannot be ignored.
“Were you possibly here to negotiate terms to outsmart me?” I take a step closer to her.
She doesn’t move a single muscle in her body. Instead, she remains hyper-focused on me.
“No. But even if I were, that is none of your business.” She huffs, turning her head away from me as if I am a measly little intern working under her. Like I am not even worth her goddamn precious time.
“Sure is when you are my employee and coming here to guilt trip your sister into getting you the company back.”
She swallows, the pale skin on her neck glistening under the warm yellow porch light.
I take another step closer to her.
Her lips tighten, and her shoulders tense.
The smirk on my face widens.
“Don’t assume things, Mr Nashwood.” She sharply turns her head, and her hair almost slaps me across the face. Her face is mere inches from mine. Her dark peony perfume surrounds me, and I briefly wonder if she will bleed as dark as her personality.
Will she bleed a deep maroon? Or will she bleed bright red? The throbbing on the side of her smooth neck is such a tease.
When I look up at her eyes, I know she noticed my glance at her lips. Her hitched breath proves it.
What is shocking is that there is no tremble in her body. She looks rock solid. A stone wall that withstands even the most ferocious disasters, maybe even chipping but never breaking.
“Never said it was an assumption. If you think talking to Aurora or Remo will help you, then you’d better think again. It will be of no help. It’s better if you walk away right now and save yourself the embarrassment.”
Her lips tighten at my words, then she strides forward, shoving my shoulder.
Grabbing her hand, I twist it behind her back. She gasps.
She shuffles, twists, then groans, trying to escape my hold. I keep her in place, her cold skin making me hiss softly. How much icier can she get?
This is the first time I’ve touched her, and it feels fucking electric. My skin burns with the need to let her go. I shouldn’t be touching filth like her.
“Stop it,” I grit out.
She thrashes harder in my hold.
This minx.
“Let me fucking go! How dare you touch me like this?” She digs her sharp nails into my wrist.
I have to hold in a groan. Warmth spreads across my wrist, and alarm bells ring in my mind. She has made me bleed.
“Stop thrashing in my hold, or—”
“Or what?” She turns her head towards me, heaving. “Or fucking what? What will you do? You already took everything! So I would like to see you try to do something else to me!”
My heart rate spikes. She isn’t afraid of me, and it makes me want to push her, to go to extreme lengths to make it happen.
She keeps fighting, and I hate it.
I whip her around and pin to the wall right under the porch lamp. My hand around her neck is tight enough to warn but not enough to cut off her oxygen. My hand flexes on her slim, translucent neck, my eyes on the throbbing vein on the side.
“God, you make me want to snuff this fire out of you. I want to see these eyes empty of life.”
Her eyes widen at my words, then hateful fire flares in them, turning them into something different.
That fiery anger blazes to life, as if I just poured oil in it. A bright, dangerous wildfire that is out of control, heading straight towards me.
Her hands snap free and fly up, she scratches my hands again.
“I fucking hate you!” Her voice is hoarse, her eyes burning with defiance
“Feeling is mutual.” I grind my teeth, tightening my hand just to see her eyes flare.
Her chest falls and rises like she is expecting more.
“A little more pressure and I can end your life right here and be free of your trouble.”
I release my grip, and her knees collapse. She whimpers and slumps against the wall. Her hands are clasped around her neck, and she gasps, taking in as much oxygen as she can.
“What is going on here?” a voice interrupts.
Ambrose blinks and steps out of my hold.
I clear my throat, my eyes trailing after her every movement as she turns to Aurora.
What would have happened if Aurora didn’t come out?
Would I have done exactly as I said?
A little more pressure, one more second of seeing that fight in her, and what would I have done?
I can’t exactly kill her because there is a stupid thing called friendship—more like me valuing my life—if I don’t want Remo coming after me for killing his wife’s sister.
“Aurora…” Ambrose says.
She tries to explain the situation to Aurora, who already knows. Aurora’s eyes are wary as Ambrose tries to convince her, and I watch. The whole time.
I watch her try as Aurora stands there, indifferent, knowing her older sister has come to beg for something when she doesn’t even know the hell Aurora has just come back from.
Ambrose doesn’t bother to ask her how Aurora is even doing.
“Please, Aurora.” Ambrose’s voice drops to a whisper as she reaches for Aurora’s hand.
Aurora steps back. She looks at me, her soft eyes flickering between me and her older sister.
“Let her keep the job, Helia. Whichever one, so she can provide for herself, but don’t ask me for anything more. And, Ambrose?”
The blond head looks up, her eyes vacant of any emotions now compared to how fiery she was with me.
“Never come back here again.” Aurora nods at me to go inside the house, and I do, but not before I look over my shoulder one last time to see Ambrose’s frozen figure as Aurora slams the door in her face.
All of this is a taste of karma for the way she treated her sister.
I know your dirty secret, Ambrose.
And it will ruin you.