Chapter 8 #2
Then I stare at the screen, unblinking.
For seconds, then a minute, then more, it stays blank.
Throughout the day, he’s taken the word infuriating to new levels.
Elena has already left when I grab my purse.
For a long time, I stare at the garment bag.
Then I pretend it’s not there. I also bypass the driver who is waiting for me at the curb and drive myself home.
I’m shocked, and more than a little unnerved by the fact I never hear from Lucian.
Around seven forty, wearing a casual dress, wedges, and only a little mascara and lip gloss, I leave my apartment. If Lucian Hawthorne thinks I’ll just fall in line with what he wants, he’s entirely wrong.
The driver is waiting downstairs, and he doffs his hat. “Ms. Langston. Pleasure to finally meet you, ma’am.”
I feel terrible. He’s been patiently waiting while I’ve been dodging Lucian’s demands. “I’m sorry. I’m not accustomed to having a driver, I’m afraid.”
“Completely understandable.” Even though he’s massive, his biceps straining against his tuxedo jacket, he seems unruffled as he closes me into the luxury car.
I play on my phone as we zip through the city. Anything to keep my anxiety at bay.
When we arrive, all too soon, he helps me from the vehicle. “The ma?tre d’ is expecting you. Mr. Pierce has informed me that I’ll be off duty for the rest of the night.”
Meaning Lucian told Caleb that they will no doubt stuff me in the back of their SUV again.
“I’ll be waiting for you in the morning at seven.”
I force a smile. My issue is with his boss, not him. “Thank you…” I trail off.
“Derek,” he supplies.
“Have a good night.” It will be better than mine, I’m sure.
As I approach, the restaurant door is opened for me, and I pause to smooth the front of my dress.
It was one thing to defy Lucian when he’s nowhere around; it’s another to know that I’ll be in his terrible presence in under a minute.
As if I’ve been there a dozen times, I’m greeted by name and then escorted through the main dining room and into a private area at the back.
The door opens, and Lucian and Caleb stand. They’re both equally devastating in tailored suits that seem to be stamped with power and control.
Lucian sweeps his narrowed eyes over me slowly, noting the dress that is not theirs.
Caleb’s gaze follows the same path, his broader shoulders shifting with coiled hunger that makes me tremble.
Unexpectedly Lucian’s mouth curves. “I would never have guessed that you’re a brat.”
The word settles between us, warm rather than scolding, carrying the same quiet pleasure I glimpsed when I pushed back last night.
“And brats are my very favorite thing to deal with.”
Heat floods my cheeks, even though I am not entirely sure what he means.
Caleb remains silent, but the slight flex along his jaw tells me he agrees with his partner.
Lucian holds my chair as I settle in.
There’s a flickering candle and a white rose on the tablecloth between us.
Lucian asks my preference for wine, and Caleb nods toward the menu, suggesting the seared scallops or the filet.
I’m not hungry, but I guess that saying that won’t go over well. So I order the scallops.
Under normal circumstances, I might enjoy the food and wine.
Over dinner, then coffee, Lucian asks questions about my practice. I answer because it’s better than silence and much better than discussing the farce of a forced marriage. And maybe he’ll understand just how incompatible we are.
Unfortunately Lucian doesn’t let me off the hook.
“About our marriage…”
My cup clatters against the saucer. “You don’t understand. I’m not—”
“This is not a negotiation.”
My stomach coils tight. I refuse to accept that this is the only way out of my dad’s horrible mess. “I’m absolutely not going through with this.”
Rather than arguing, Lucian reaches inside his suit coat and produces a small, velvet box.
He flips open the top to reveal an emerald-cut diamond flanked by deep blue sapphires.
It’s the most threatening thing I’ve ever seen.
“Put it on, Sophie.” He slides the box toward me.
Chin set, I shove it back at him.
Lucian moves fast, clamping his fingers around my wrist, a dangerous tic jumping in his jaw.
His grip is firm, unyielding, as he slides the cool metal into place. It fits terrifyingly well.
“My darling future wife. Our ring will fucking stay there.” His eyes are narrowed on me, flashing with danger. “Understand?”
A shiver races down my spine, mixing with the dread churning in my stomach. “I…”
“You’ll want to agree with him.” Caleb’s voice is calm and just as unsettling.
Is this how they operate?
Lucian tells me how high to jump, and Caleb makes sure I do?
Screw you both.
I grab my purse and stand, but before I can turn away, Caleb clamps his hand on my wrist.
Frantically I try to pull away, but he doesn’t budge. His grip is firm but not quite painful.
Lucian drops his napkin on the tabletop. Tone unruffled, he says, “You’ll remember what happened last night in front of the hotel.”
I sigh.
Unless I’m willing to start screaming—which is a possibility—I’m stuck with them for the moment.
“I asked if you understood that our ring stays on your finger.”
Since the only thing I want is to get away as quickly as I can, I nod.
“Say the word.”
I grit my teeth. “Yes.”
The moment I agree, Caleb releases me and they both stand.
My hatred for them grows deeper every moment.
The drive back to my apartment stretches in charged silence.
Caleb’s thigh is pressed, solid and warm, against mine, while Lucian faces us from the opposite bench, knees spread, gaze locked on my face.
Their hated ring feels heavier on my finger.
At my building, Caleb opens the door and offers his hand.
I’ve already had enough of him, so ignoring the gesture, I step out.
Obviously uncaring that I don’t want them around, they flank me up the stairs, protective and threatening at the same time.
At my door, I fumble my key before managing to insert it and turning the lock.
I slip inside quickly, planning to shut them out.
Lucian wedges his foot between the door and jamb.
Then his low and commanding voice fills the narrow opening. “There are a few things you need to understand. Ms. Langford.”