Chapter 15 Selene #2
Thankfully, he turns, picks a dark emerald dress, and hands it over to me. I accept it without a word, returning to the dressing room to change.
When I wear it, the dress is floor length with a V-cut neckline that’s both sexy and beautiful, while still somewhat conservative.
The sleeves are thin pieces of fabric that fall mid-shoulders.
They complement the fitted style and silver-lined embroidery that swirls in a pattern on the skirt of the dress.
I won’t lie, it’s breathtaking, but I can’t let him know he has good taste.
I step out, but this time, the brunette is back with a pile of what I assume to be newer designs of dresses in her hands and matching ensembles. Bags and shoes.
Cortez glances at me and nods approvingly. I roll my eyes.
We end up going home with five dresses—all picked by Cortez, of course, along with matching shoes, bags, and an ensemble of diamond jewelry.
“Be ready by six,” he says to me when we arrive at the mansion. I simply nod and go to my room.
My eyes dart to the time, and I see it’s almost six. I spring into action, cleansing my skin, applying makeup, and fixing my hair. In no time, I’m standing before the mirror fully ready.
Satisfaction brims in my chest as I take in the beauty—my beauty—in the mirror. I’ve not looked this good in a long time.
I turn to the door when a sharp knock resounds in the room. It’s time. A sudden, nervous shiver tickles my spine as I tread gently towards the door.
“It is time, ma’am,” says the man from earlier.
He bows and gestures me forward. We walk out of my room and down the staircase. When we get outside, a sleek black Lamborghini is waiting for us.
As soon as we reach the car, the man opens the passenger door and helps me in. I’m instantly wrapped in a cocoon of familiar cologne. I turn my head to the side, and my breath hitches when I take him in.
Cortez is clad in a stunning black suit, jaw clean-shaven, and hair slicked back to accentuate his sharp features. He’s sitting with his usual kingly regalia, biceps straining the material of his suit, and shoulders so broad that it makes the suit look like it was tailored by the devil himself.
I won’t lie, he looks good. But then, when does he ever not look good?
I’m still staring when suddenly he turns to me, and a startled gasp falls from my lips. I don’t know what I expect from him, but it’s not the way his jaw clenches and he mutters dryly.
“You will not drink. You will not engage in conversations beyond pleasantries. And you will stay by my side at all times.”
I roll my eyes. Of course, it’s more rules. Is this guy ever not an asshole?
Something strains in my chest when he doesn’t spare me another glance and brings out his phone to scroll through.
Ugh.
I’ll show him that women are to be treated with courtesy and respect, especially on a goddamn date! Well, that is if we can consider this a date…
After a while, we finally arrive at the event. From the red carpet and paparazzi squeezed on either side of it, I can tell that it’s a significant dinner event.
The driver gets out, rushing to open the door. I step out and Cortez follows.
Camera flashes blind me momentarily, and I almost lose my footing. I plaster a fake smile just as Cortez places a firm hand around my waist. A shiver runs through my spine at the action, but I maintain composure.
We walk the red carpet, with the paparazzi yelling anything just to get Cortez’s attention. Cortez doesn’t answer anyone, of course, and for a moment, I wonder if this is how it is everywhere he goes.
“Ms. Vasquez, are you aware that many ladies are envious of your position as the fiancée to the hottest bachelor in town?”
The woman who says it is a skinny blonde, her overly large breasts spilling out of her ridiculously tight corset top. I almost roll my eyes at her. Thankfully, before they can ask other questions, we get inside.
I do my best not to gasp as my eyes soak in the grandeur of the hall.
Streaks of neatly decorated blue ribbons string across the hall, blending with the seamless glow of the golden walls.
Chairs and tables clad in golden cloth are splayed across the hall, and the waiters, dressed in the same color scheme, glide through the hall with a tray of filled glasses in hand.
Dad never allowed me to attend functions, so all of this is new to me.
Cortez’s hand on my waist nudges me gently towards a table where he pulls out a chair for me before sitting in his, opposite me.
“You’re such a gentleman,” I snicker above the soft jazz music, placing my purse on the table.
His jaw clenches. “Don’t start.”
Unfortunately for him, a tall, fair-skinned man comes to our table at that moment, and I decide to start.
“Cortez! It’s been so long!” The man spreads his arms in a hug, but Cortez shakes his hand instead.
“Antonio Delaney.” His voice is dry. Whether the man notices Cortez’s dry demeanor, I can’t tell, as he turns to me, green eyes piercing mine with a charming smile.
“Ms. Vasquez. You’re even more beautiful in person,” he whispers thickly, extending his hand.
He’s certainly not my type, but I indulge him, sliding my hand into his. He leans low, dark strands falling into his face as he plants a soft kiss on the back of my palm.
“Thank you, Mr. Delaney,” I say in the softest voice I can muster, my other hand flying to my chest in a tender, ceremonious manner.
Antonio holds my hand a second longer than I like until he finally lets go. “No, please. Call me Antonio.”
I reply with a sweet smile, “Okay, Antonio.”
Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Cortez fist his hand. I know I’m playing a very dangerous game—a game I should stop right now if I want to save my head. But I swear it feels so good.
I smirk.
Antonio glances between Cortez and the table. Again, I wonder if he doesn’t read the unimpressed look on his face.
“Don’t you guys need a drink?”
“There’s no nee—” Cortez starts, but I interrupt.
“Oh, thank you. That’s so thoughtful of you.” My lips are starting to hurt from my smile.
Antonio nods and waves a waiter to our table, who serves us two glasses of champagne. “Please enjoy yourself.”
I lean slightly forward, patting a hand over Cortez’s fist. “We will, Antonio. Thank you.”
Antonio nods and walks away.
When I bring my gaze to Cortez’s, I almost wince at the fire in his eyes. His face is pulled into an all too familiar tight frown. I recline my fingers and decide to give him a beauty tip.
“Frowning causes wrinkles. Seeing as you’re old, you should avoid that.”
My hand reaches out for the glass, fingers clenching around it. I feel his burning gaze on me, but I will myself to grab the glass.
“Drop the glass,” he grits.
I roll my eyes. Can’t he go one fucking day without commanding?
Adjusting myself in my chair, I lift the glass. “I suggest you smile, big boy, or you won’t like the news tomorrow.”
It’s almost like I can see fumes coming out of his head as he forces a smile. Good.
I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip. The champagne is like every other I’ve tasted—crisp, acidic and expensive tasting—but I decide to make it into a big deal.
“Tastes a little tangy,” I drag the last syllable, dropping the glass with an exaggerated smack of my lips. “Do you know what brand of champagne this is?”
His gaze darkens. “Don’t tes—”
I scoff.
“Chill out, don. You don’t have to be so stuck-up all the time.”
“You’re biting off more than you can chew,” he breathes heavily.
I lean back, enjoying the frustration that seeps through his forced smile. “It depends on the food. Most times I just…swallow.” I trail my eye from his face down to his chest and end it by biting my lips sultrily.
Instead of anger, a smirk crosses his lips, a sudden, amused expression on his face. Seems like I’m heading somewhere.
“When we get home, we’ll see just how much you can swallow.” His words are filled with intention that jams my thighs together.
Before I can come up with a response, someone calls him, and he throws me a hard glare. “Stay right here.”
I watch him walk up to a short, chubby man, and together they disappear into the small crowd that has now gathered at the front.
Ugh. Just when it was getting interesting.
After finishing the glass of champagne, I decide to use the restroom. Standing up from my chair, I saunter in the direction of the small restroom sign on the wall.
The corridor I enter is well lit and has the same ambience as the hall. Just as I navigate a corner, I collide with someone. The person grabs onto my elbows to prevent me from falling.
“Ms. Vasquez?”
It’s Antonio.
“Oh, Antonio.” I move to shift my elbow from his grasp, but his hold grows tighter. My brows draw together as I look up at him, frowning.
His lips stretch into a smile that makes my heart slam against my chest. It’s different from the charming one he had earlier. It’s malicious.
“Let go,” I spit.
“No,” he barks. “Your stupid fiancé thinks he rules the business world. It’s time I showed him who the real boss is.”
He yanks me closer, and I quickly twist my body. I don’t get to land a kick when Cortez appears and drags him by his neck away from me.
I watch with part satisfaction and part worry as Cortez repeatedly launches blows to his guts. Satisfaction because I’m enjoying this pussy’s screams, but worry because, well, someone barging in on the scene wouldn’t do any good for Cortez’s profile.
“Touch her again—in fact, breathe in her direction again—and you won’t live to see another day,” Cortez hisses. Antonio scampers out, beaten and with his tail between his legs.
Then Cortez turns to me. It feels as if the air grows still, and I swear the light bulbs flicker. He’s brimming with raw anger as he stalks towards me.
Oops. I shouldn’t have run my mouth carelessly.