Chapter 19
POV: Kiera?
I tried to get used to Cain’s protectiveness—his obsessiveness—his controlling behavior but I would be lying if I said it was easy to accept.
It was unsettling.
I felt him watching me—every second of everyday—as if his eyes could see beyond normal distances. Which, couldn’t be possible. No human could see perfectly from afar. But it’s as if he could.
Whenever I entered a room, it was almost as if he sniffed the air—literally sniffed.
And the way his eyes raged whenever a man even came within a mere inch of me.
It was unsettling…to say the least.
Then there was the fact that he would growl whenever I mouthed off—-or snap his teeth—or graze his teeth over my neck and almost act as if he was going to bite me on the neck.
It was weird…but then again I chalked it up to him needing to have control.
I decided that it must be a billionaire thing, or a man who’s not used to being told no, or maybe a control-freak thing, who knows, but I began to think of it as…normal, or normal-ish at least.
I was seated across from him, in his office. And he was trying impossibly hard not to stare at me as I rattled off his to-do list for the week, including ‘our to-do list.’
“Tomorrow you have a meeting with the shareholders at 10 am, then a conference call with Mr. Ratali at noon, then a dinner scheduled for 5:00 pm? But there’s no details mentioned,” I looked up from the notepad, balancing my pen on the corner of my lip, noticing his gaze intently on me.
His expression didn’t change as our gazes met. “Yes, our dinner.”
“Our dinner?” I asked, my nose crinkling.
Cain’s right hand balled into a fist, as he white-knuckled it.
Here, we go again.
He hated when I questioned him. He hated when I denied him. He hated whenever I went against him.
It’s not like I had plans tomorrow night anyways, but I wasn’t going to treat me as if I was a doll to throw around and control whenever he wanted to.
I sighed, giving him a good look. “You didn’t even ask, Cain.”
His jaw ticked. “I didn’t think I needed to.”
“Well, I think we’ve gotten to the point in our…relationship,” I paused, glancing up at him to see how he’d react. Same stiff face. “That you would.”
His eyebrows raised as a smile hinted at his lips. “Our relationship?”
“You know what I mean. Our relationship—professionally and personally.”
His smile widened. “I just like hearing you say it.”
“Anyways,” I continued, taping my pen on the notepad. “You can’t just assume I’m free whenever you want me to be.”
“Baby,” he leaned across his desk, elbows pushed hard into the table as he burned a hole through me with his heavy gaze. “I think you know better than that.”
I didn’t give in.
Instead, I just stared at him, waiting for him to continue, as he always did—waiting for him to say I’m his and that I belong to him, or other sweet, seductive words, that sounded fucking great when we had sex, but sounded quite unsettling when we were having an actual adult conversation.
“What I know, Cain,” I leaned forward across his desk so we were eye to eye. “Is that I don’t see a ring on my finger or a proclamation that I must do whatever you ask of me, because you’re my husband. Which, I’d never do anyways. The point is—I have my own life and you need to understand that.”
Cain growled. I repeat, growled.
He got up from his chair, onto his feet and walked towards me. Placing himself directly in front of me, and pining me in, he used two fingers to lift my chin to meet his gaze.
His blue eyes turned gold within seconds, startling me, causing me to shift into the back of my chair.
“You,” he repeated so slowly that it caused my blood to chill. “You are mine.”
I gulped, my legs shaking from his touch and his demand for possession.
“And I’ll do one better than a ring,” he repeated, his breath hot against my neck.
A snarl erupted from his mouth as he yanked himself away from me then looked me dead in the eyes again. “Don’t test me, Kiera,” then he straightened his shoulders and went back to the chair behind his desk.
“The point—” I began.
He cut me off, “5:00 pm, tomorrow, Kiera. I’ll pick you up at 4:30 and we’ll have dinner at Boylan’s.”
“Taking me to Boylan’s won’t—”
“Kiera!” he slammed down his fist, anger spreading across his features before clearing his throat and softening his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head, and uncurling his fists. “I don’t mean to raise my voice. Just please, I was hoping we could have a nice dinner—together.”
I got to my feet, taking a step back towards the door. “Fine.”
I didn’t agree because I forgave his little outbursts, or because I accepted his controlling nature in general, but a part of me wanted to obey him and that part unsettled me even more.
Just as I was about to leave, a call came through, and Cain put it on speaker.
“Alpha—” a voice sounded through.
My forehead crinkled.
Alpha? What was that?
Cain quickly turned the phone from the speaker phone and pressed it to his ear. As he listened, he watched me.
But my mind turned, thinking of what ‘alpha’ could possibly even mean.
I purposefully stood there, watching him, hoping I could hear bits and pieces of the muffled conversation from a distance. Eventually, I got bored of staring at him and stomped off.
But there was something strange about the conversation—about the word Alpha and how the word felt right on my tongue—-how the word felt like it belonged to Cain.
I shook away the thought and went back to work.