Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
The first town closest to the Academy is the basic university town. It has a couple of good bars, a few clubs, and some restaurants that definitely aren’t worth the price of the food. It has a theater, some boutiques, and everything you’d expect of a small town with three thousand citizens.
“What the hell are we doing here?” Kenzo slumps into the passenger's seat, pulling the hood of his hoodie further over his head, concealing his face almost entirely.
“Just shut the fuck up.”
There’s a cafe right across from us. The coffee’s good, but overpriced, and not my choice of drink. It’s almost five in the evening on a Friday, and the classes for the first week back have ended over two hours ago. So why the fuck is she inside the damned café with that bastard?
“Oh,” Kenzo groans, straightening up in his seat. “We’re stalking Sophia. Just what I needed to start the weekend.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s not stalking. It’s keeping track of her whereabouts.”
“Without her knowledge,” Kenzo drawls. “Which is the definition of stalking, by the way.”
“No one forced you to be here. Aiden or Elias would’ve been happy to be here instead of you.”
“Unfortunately, Aiden’s gone home for a wedding, and Elias is probably trying to hook up with some of the girls from our year.”
My eyes skim over the glass window of the cafe, the detailed drawings of the cherry blossom tree on it. It’s quite artsy, but I genuinely don’t see the point in any of this.
However, Sophia’s sitting in a booth that’s across from the window.
She’s far enough not to see my car, but close enough for me to see her.
She’s sitting across from Damien, wearing her hair in a tight pony with one of her damned bows, the pink adding contrast to the otherwise entirely dark grey clothes.
Why the fuck is she laughing?
The motherfucker can’t be that funny, can he?
My grip tightens on the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white from the pressure, and my jaw clenches in anger. Sophia doesn’t know when to listen, and when to act the part of the little brat, and it’s getting on my nerves a lot more than anything she’s done recently.
But that bastard is what’s pissing me off more. He is still not getting that I’m very, very serious about my threats. He’s still lingering around and acting like I didn’t break his fucking fingers for even touching her, let alone taking her out on something that only he can consider a date.
“Relax,” Kenzo mumbles. “You’re my ride back. I don’t want you driving us off the cliff because she spoke to another man.”
“You’re being overly dramatic.”
“Am I?” He looks at me with a blank expression. “Besides, why are you so bothered by this? What happened to the whole I-don’t-actually-care-about-Sophia thing?”
“I don’t,” I defend, my words coming out a little too quickly. “I just don’t like her spending time with him.”
“Oh?” Kenzo’s tone takes on an amused tone. “Do tell me why. Besides, wasn’t breaking his fingers enough?”
“Because there’s something off about him, I just can’t put my finger on it. And no, I’ll only be satisfied when he drops dead.”
“Is it the fact that he’s everything you’re not?” Kenzo asks, with a flat tone. I know the idiot good enough to know he isn’t trying to insult me, but he needs to work on his bluntness. “Is it because he’s exactly the soft, gentle man she needs, and not the brute you are?”
“Fuck off, whose side are you on?”
“No one’s,” he snorts. “Both of you are idiots.”
“You’re getting on my last nerve.”
He raises his hands in surrender, though the amusement doesn’t falter from his expression. He looks ahead into the cafe, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly.
“I’ve heard something interesting,” Kenzo says. “Sophia’s been looking for a bag for a while now. It’s some unique, limited-edition bullshit, and our prince Charming here hasn’t had much luck finding it for her.”
My ears perk up. “Do you happen to know which bag?”
“No, why the fuck would I know that?” He rolls his eyes. “But I can ask Grace.”
“Well, go on then.”
He blinks a few times. “You mean, right now?”
“No, I think it’d be best if you waited approximately seventy years, and I could find it so Sophia could get buried with it,” I groan. “Yes, right now.”
“No need to be so grumpy, relax.” He rolls his eyes, but pulls his phone out nonetheless, typing out a quick message. Silence falls inside the car, the engine still running, and after a couple of minutes, the response comes.
Kenzo turns the phone around, showing me the bag, and I lift a brow. Not only is it hard to find, but the price is quite hefty, too. Nonetheless, I know for a fact I’ll be able to find one. I make a mental note of the bag, then decide it’s a problem for tomorrow to solve.
“They’re leaving,” Kenzo mumbles, and my eyes snap to the cafe yet again.
Damien has his hand around her shoulder, and the sight itself makes my blood boil. However, I pause dead in my tracks, eyes widening when I realize what the fuck is happening.
The two of them walk to the front counter, chatting, laughing, and engaging in a conversation with the worker behind the bar. Then, as if this couldn’t get any more bizarre, it’s Sophia who pulls out her card to pay.
I can’t help the laugh that comes from me. “Unbelievable.”
“If he can’t pay for a coffee, I highly doubt he’s actually looking for this bag,” Kenzo says, and his words mirror my thoughts.
“I have never had a woman pay anything for me. Not a date, or a coffee.”
“Obviously,” Kenzo drawls out. “I’d rather shit in my own hands and clap than ever have a woman spend her money on me.”
This is probably one of the reasons Kenzo and I get along so well.
When I get married one day, my wife won’t have to lift a single fucking finger.
If she wants to work and earn money, that’s her choice, but all that money will be spent solely on her.
What kind of a rich man am I if I can’t provide for my family?
“What a joke,” I snort. “I cannot believe she actually paid for his coffee.”
“What’s the plan now, boss?” Kenzo mocks.
My eyes follow as Sophia and Damien leave the cafe, and if this wasn’t bad enough, I’m so dumbfounded that I’m struggling to comprehend what I’m seeing.
They go their separate ways, with Sophia entering the backseat of the car that’s owned by her family.
It just means she called for a driver to take her here, and the bastard is going to his own fucking car.
They came from the same university, and he couldn’t even drive her?
“You know what?” I scoff in disbelief. “I was thinking of going easy on him, and perhaps not being as violent. But now, I have a different plan.”
“Not you and your plans,” Kenzo groans, face falling into his hands as he shakes his head. “What is it?”
“Killing him.”
Kenzo looks up from his hands, baffled. “Excuse me?”
“No matter how much I loathe this entire situation, he could’ve at least treated Sophia like the lady she is.”
“No, no, back up,” Kenzo says. “Please tell me you’re not actually thinking of killing him.”
“If I say no, will you get off my fucking case?”
“No, because unfortunately, I know you,” Kenzo sighs, exasperated. He’s silent for a couple of minutes, and I slowly pull out of the parking lot, following the car where Sophia is. “At least tell me when and where, so I can be your alibi.”
My hand tightens around the steering wheel again, and I can’t help but feel an odd sensation in my chest. Why am I even doing this? If I’m not preparing for the finals, I’m stalking Sophia, and always spending time with her. Why the fuck am I like this?
It wasn’t supposed to end up like this.
When this all started back when we were kids, I was curious. She had that unapproachable bubble around her that I wanted to burst just to see what would happen. I’d orchestrated most of our meetings, and those that happened by pure coincidence only further strengthened what I knew about Sophia.
She’s one wicked creature, sent from the Devil himself to tempt and ruin me.
And she won’t be with Damien, not as long as I’m fucking breathing.
I claimed her a long time ago, and there’s a reason no one ever asked her out because everyone who tried, ended up with bruises and knocked teeth.
I don’t give a fuck how that makes me look, but this woman belongs to me.
She always has, and soon enough, she’ll come to understand that there’s no escape from me.
I’ve already made the perfect little cage for her, and I can’t wait to lock her up and throw away the key.
On some sick, twisted level, Sawyer and Astrid getting married only helped me because now, we’re connected in a way that she cannot escape. Every holiday, I’ll be there. At every big celebration, she’ll have to be by my side, whether she likes it or not.
By the time I’m done with her, I’ll make sure she ends up liking it. She’s struggling against the emotions she has for me, whether it be pure lust and desire, or something deeper that she won’t admit.
I won’t leave her with a choice. She’ll have to admit it, and she’ll fucking love every single moment of it.
Then I’ll snatch her away where no other man will ever be able to lay their unworthy eyes on her.
First I’ll start with Damien, because clearly, beating up any potential suitors in the past didn’t work.
Apparently, I didn’t do it hard enough if Damien got the courage not only to get close to her, but to use their friendship as a guise for his true motivation.
Only a fucking idiot wouldn’t see the way he’s looking at her. And no one should be looking at Sophia like that — like she’s the Sun on a rainy, stormy day, because she isn’t theirs to look at.
I’ll make an example of the moron, and no one else will dare to question my claim over Sophia.
My most prized possession.