Chapter 4 - Athena
It’s late on Thursday when Adrian walks into my room without knocking.
“Get ready, we’re going to dinner,” he says, his deep voice running through me like dark caramel. It annoys the hell out of me that he sounds sexy no matter what he says. And it annoys the hell out of me even more than when he scolds me, I stupidly get turned on! What is up with that!
“Dinner?” I huff in disbelief. Why would he take me out to dinner? We’ve been doing nothing but snap at each other over the past few days. Mostly because I won’t do what he says, and he clearly doesn’t like it.
“Yes. Dinner. To eat. To leave the house and get some fresh air.”
Leave the house.
“In town?” I ask, wondering if it’s too good to be true.
“Yes, in town. Get ready. We’re leaving in thirty minutes.
Wear the black dress I got you,” he says.
There is something edged in his voice that sends heat spilling between my legs.
The black dress he got me is insanely sexy.
Not something I would ever have chosen for myself.
Apart from the fact that the price tag is more than my full year’s rental.
It’s so gorgeous, it’s the type of dress the girls from the magazines wear.
It’s not something I would wear, mostly because I’d have nowhere to wear something so beautiful.
My first instinct is to snap at him.
Partly because I really like the idea of him telling me what to wear. And partly because it annoys the hell out of me that I like it.
But…this place truly is a fortress. I’ve searched everywhere for a way out, and he wasn’t kidding. But if I play nice and he takes me out…Maybe I can escape from there. I’ll already have passed the first layer of security.
“Alright,” I sass. “I’ll be ready in a little while.”
He looks at me in surprise. “Good,” he says, clearly satisfied that I have chosen obedience.
The dress fits against my body and hugs every curve. My waist looks narrower and my hips wider, accenting every part of me in the glimmering hand-stitched sequined black lace and velvet.
Standing in front of the mirror with my hair up in a high bun and a touch of dark maroon lipstick on my mouth, I barely recognize myself. I look gorgeous.
My heart does a strange somersault as I slip my feet into the red-bottomed stilettos he bought with the dress.
Walking down the stairs, I see him waiting at the bottom.
He’s wearing a black suit with a white shirt.
Black leather suspenders. The jacket is slung over the base of the stairs, and his sleeves are rolled up over his thick, muscular forearms. I can see more of his tattoo, and my lips part as my eyes trace the immaculate details of him.
He’s fucking gorgeous.
And in this dress, I look like I belong right next to him.
I bite my lower lip as I step off the last step, and he holds his hand out to me. Without thinking, I place my hand in his, and he slowly pirouettes me.
“You are a work of art, darling. I doubt anyone will be able to keep their eyes off you at dinner tonight,” he says darkly.
I wonder if he means himself as well. The idea of him finding me attractive is making my head jumble and my mind wander.
Tonight, we’re escaping. This isn’t a date. This is a plan!
But still, as I look up at him… this tall, gorgeous stranger that I hardly know… It’s difficult not to react to how utterly sexy he is.
It’s like all the other guys I’ve ever seen in my life were boys, and he is a man.
Ugh, get a grip, Athena. He’s controlling, pushy, and bossy.
Adrian picks up a thick, soft black coat and holds it up for me so that I can slip my arms into it. “I don’t want you getting cold,” he says gently as he pulls it straight and makes sure I’m comfortable.
My stupid heart is somersaulting again, and I wish it would stop.
He picks up his own jacket and shrugs it on, then tugs the front door open and gestures for me to join him. “Shall we?”
The drive to the restaurant isn’t far, but the relief of being outside for the first time in days is immense. I didn’t realize how cooped up I felt in that mansion, even though it’s massive.
I needed the fresh air and different sights.
“The snow is so thick outside,” I muse quietly to myself.
“The resultant I chose for us tonight has a massive fireplace right in the center. It’s quite magnificent.”
“Sounds cozy,” I say, unable to hide the hint of sarcasm in my voice. This is not a date. This is an escape attempt.
We stop outside the restaurant. Somehow, there is a parking space reserved right in front just for Adrian. Maybe they know him here.
He walks around to my side of the car, and I hesitate before climbing out, noticing the uneven cobblestone, hyper aware that I am in no way accustomed to walking in such high heels.
“Is everything ok?” he asks.
“I might have to take my shoes off to walk to the entrance.”
He laughs, and without a word, he leans into the car, and he scoops me into his arms and cradles me against his chest. I let out a little yelp in fright, then cling to him.
Glancing around me, half embarrassed, I notice the looks on the faces of the women around us.
Not judgment. But jealousy.
Jealousy because I have this gorgeous, hulking beast of a man who is willing to carry me like a princess to the entrance.
A smirk touches my lips.
Adrian sets me down right at the door and waits while I adjust my coat and my dress. Then he offers me his hand and walks me into the restaurant.
It’s nothing like any place I have ever been in my life. I’ve seen places like this in the movies, with golden pillars, crystal chandeliers, and glass bar tops with lights shining from within.
He walks through the place like this is all completely normal to him, while I stare around in awe.
The hostess gushes over Adrian. He doesn’t seem to notice until she touches his chest, giggling and gently running her fingers down the front of his jacket.
Unprofessional. I guess her hormones got the better of her logic.
He scowls in annoyance, pulling me closer to his side, which amuses me.
She sucks in her cheeks and says, “Right this way,” as politely as she can.
He pulls my chair out for me. We have the table with the best views and in close proximity to the modern sculpted fireplace. It is magnificent with curves that look like they were inspired by a dragon’s shape.
I turn to look at Adrian from across the table, suddenly deeply annoyed.
I suddenly get it. I understand what’s actually going on right now.
This is all some big plan to impress me. To soften me up and win me over by splashing his wealth in my face. The dress. The shoes. The expensive coat. The restaurant. The extravagance. This is all for show.
I’m about to mutter a harsh retort against him to let him know that I’m not the type of girl someone can ‘buy’ and I never will be impressed by things as shallow as money, but the waiter arrives.
“Good evening,” he says, then begins to rattle off the wine selection and the chef’s choice for the night, and a long story about fancy dishes I can’t pronounce and have never heard of.
My mind drifts off as I look around.
“You’re like a little black kitten,” he muses, and I look up to realize we are alone again.
“The waiter left?” I ask, wondering why I didn’t get to order.
“Yes, I’ve ordered us a bit of everything.”
“What do you mean by that? A black kitten?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Cute, yet dangerous.”
“Kittens are hardly dangerous,” I huff, rolling my eyes.
“Oh, but black ones are. All the bad luck about a black cat crossing your path,” he smirks. “I’m trying to decide if you’re lucky or not.”
“So then, I’m a black cat,” I argue.
“No, you’re too kitten-like to be a cat.”
“Ugh, you don’t even make sense,” I groan.
He chuckles, and the delicious sound rumbles over me in the most annoying way, setting my skin flushing with a heated glow.
My annoyance gets the better of me, and I huff, “All of this doesn’t impress me,” with a wave of my hand around the venue.
“The food will. It’s incredible.”
I roll my eyes again. Either he’s making a point of misunderstanding on purpose, or he’s dumb.
I try again. “I don’t care about your money, your wealth, or your status, Adrian. It doesn’t matter, and it doesn’t make you a good person.”
He smiles dangerously, his eyes darkening as he stares at me across the table. My heart beats faster, and I press my lips together, then bite the lower one as the intensity of his gaze catches me off guard.
“I never claimed to be a good person, Athena. But I know I am a better person than your father.”
The comment takes me by surprise. If he is trying to win me over with this dinner date, then why bring up my father again?
Choosing to ignore his comment, I pick up my wine glass and busy myself with swirling the contents of it in a slow, lazy circle.
“What do you do anyway?” I ask, reluctant to talk, but figuring I should at least learn about the man who is holding me prisoner.
“Import and export.”
“Congratulations on being as vague as possible,” I huff.
He laughs. This time, a genuine, down-to-earth laugh.
“Sorry, force of habit. The problem is that, usually, when I get asked about my business, it’s from people trying to knock me down or take advantage of me in some way.
It’s a cutthroat world, and you have to watch your back at all times.
” He sips his wine and sets the glass back on the table.
I watch his elegant, long fingers, distracted by them for a moment.
“I import and export a variety of products, focusing mainly on connecting ports in Chicago, Riga, and Moscow. It’s a fascinating challenge to determine the best shipping methods for specific products.
People don’t realize the challenge behind it or the minute details that need to be taken into account.
I enjoy my job—and the challenge of it.” He speaks with passion and pride about what he does.
“Do you work with a lot of people?” I ask.