chapter 4 #2
“Stay out here,” I say, throwing the door at his face, but he catches it. I push, but it’s useless. He pushes me inside easily and enters, then closes the door behind him.
All the self-defense I’ve learned is of no use in front of him. I tell myself not to feel disappointed about it, this man has been through the best military training. Apart from Zo, no one could defeat him in any kind of combat.
I hate how much I know about him. Over the years, I’ve tried my best to forget every piece of information related to him, but my brain refuses to let go. Every word spoken about him over the last eight years by my father, uncle, or brother is permanently stored in my memory.
In the first four years, whenever anyone said anything related to him, I listened with full attention and a grin on my face. In the later four years, it was the opposite, I tried not to listen, frowning every time his name came up. But even then, he always had my attention.
“This is my private space,” I tell him, planting my hands on my hips.
He removes his sunglasses and sits on my bed. “Start packing.” He smiles when I keep glaring. “Or do you want to admire me in your private space for some time? I have no problem with that either.”
He leans back, placing his hands behind him. “I can understand, it’s not a sight you get to see every day.”
I grit my teeth. My violence gets the better of me as I lunge at him, grabbing his neck with both hands.
I squeeze hard. “You shouldn’t have taken this much advantage of the situation,” I grit out. I’m not going to regret it, even if I kill him today.
He starts laughing.
What the fuck is wrong with this man?
And in the next moment, he falls back onto my bed, pulling me on top of him by my waist. I release his neck in the sudden movement.
I press on either side of his face, trying to push myself up, but he slides his other hand to my neck and pulls me down further.
Despite fighting with all my strength, I’m still being dragged closer.
He stops only when our faces are so close that our breaths mingle, his lips hovering so near they feel like they’re touching mine, even though they aren’t.
My neck strains as I fight to keep myself up against his relentless pressure. He isn’t forcing me down completely; he’s making sure I have to keep fighting to stay up. If my muscles give out even a little, my lips will touch his.
Damn this bastard.
My whole body is sweating. I’m sure it’s because of the physical struggle, and not because he’s this close.
“I haven’t even started taking advantage of the situation, Angel,” he murmurs, his words brushing directly against my mouth. I feel every syllable on my lips.
I turn my face away, silently thanking God when he lets me. My neck finally gives out, going numb as my face falls against his neck. I’m breathing hard, like I’ve just finished twenty push-ups in one go.
The sound of his low hum snaps my focus away from my breathlessness.
Is he enjoying this?
I try to push myself up again, but he doesn’t let me move.
“Let me hold you for a few more minutes,” he whispers near my ear.
The sound of his voice slides through me, sending a shiver down my spine.
Suddenly, the reality of my position hits me—I’m on top of him.
My whole body presses against his, and despite my efforts to ignore it, my brain starts registering every point of contact: the dig of his belt against my belly, my breasts pressing against his hard, wide chest, his large hands spanning my back, covering too much of me, it feels like he’s everywhere. My heavy breaths turn shallow.
Angry at myself and at him, I force myself up again. “Let me go, Matleon,” I warn. “Or this won’t end well.”
“Don’t fight. Or it will definitely not end well,” he says, grabbing my thigh and rubbing it against him.
My eyes almost pop out when I realize exactly where he’s rubbing it.
“You pervert!” I shout, kicking him, though I can barely move my leg.
He laughs and lets me go. I slide off the single bed, fuming with rage. I clench my fists and turn away from him. Talking to him is useless, he’s like the flu: you’ll be fine as long as you stay away.
I remove my heels, slip into comfortable flip-flops, tie my hair in a bun, grab a set of my clothes, and head to the bathroom. After changing, I start packing my small things in the bathroom. Coming out, I fling his shirt at him.
He catches it and gets up from the bed. I turn my back to him, pulling my luggage bag from the wardrobe. I feel him standing behind me, but I choose to ignore him.
But can anyone really ignore such a shameless man? He drapes the shirt around me, covering my shoulders, and hugs me from behind.
“Keep it. It looks good on you,” he murmurs.
“I don’t like it,” I say in a hard voice.
“But I love it on you.” His voice dips lower. “My woman wearing my shirt,” he whispers almost into my ear, and then he’s gone.
When I turn, he’s already leaving through the door. I shrug the shirt off my shoulders and toss it into my bag.
“My woman? Keep dreaming,” I mutter.
Matleon
I stand leaning near her door, watching the place I’ve been monitoring with fly-sized drones.
She barely talks to the other two men living on this floor.
Most of her interactions are limited to that Australian, Dexter Walker.
Son of an Australian trillionaire, working on a cure for his own blood cancer.
He’s not a threat—for now. She spends a lot of time with him, but he has shown no interest in her so far.
I’ve been observing every interaction closely for the past few days.
Still, I’m not a fan of her spending time with any man.
She comes out of her room after a few minutes, carrying two bags of luggage.
My men take her bags as we leave. The place she was staying in isn’t terrible, but it’s a little too far for my convenience.
And her living alone with three other men nearby, well, that has been disturbing my sleep more than I like.
We drive to her new apartment, which is in my territory.
Every apartment in the building she’s moving into is owned by billionaires of New York.
My first preference was to give her an apartment in the same building as my penthouse, but that could lead to arguments, and I’ve already pushed her to her limits.
I open the door to her apartment. She looks around and nods, clearly liking the place. Good.
This place is perfect for her, because I could lock her inside whenever I want, watch her through the cameras here, and anyone who wishes to meet her would need my permission first. But my little Angel doesn’t need to know any of that.
I pick up the papers from the kitchen counter and hand them to her. “Your ownership papers. This place is yours.”
She takes them without asking any questions about who bought it. Whether it was me, Kaz, or her father, it doesn’t matter. For all of us, this is like spending a coin from our wallets.
She looks up at me from the papers. “Why are you still standing in my place? Your work is done, so kindly get lost.”
I raise a brow. “You were talking about the law this morning. Do you know what’s actually illegal in this country?”
I tilt my head, studying her beautiful face. “Talking to me in such a disrespectful way, Angel. The punishment is losing your life.” I lean closer, smiling. “But for you, I’ll change it. You can get away with just a kiss.”
She narrows her eyes. “I’m fine with your original punishment. Kill me. I don’t want the fair prince Matleon changing his ways for me.”
I nod and take a step toward her. She doesn’t move, just watches me. I lean down and press a kiss to her cheek.
Her face instantly turns red. She stumbles back, holding her cheek, her expression shifting rapidly from shock to fury.
“You—how dare you kiss me?” she shouts.
“Ah,” I say, putting on an innocent expression. “Didn’t you just say, kiss me?”
She starts punching me with her small fists, shouting, “Get out of my house! I’ll kill you, you pervert!”
Laughing, I move backward as she follows, hitting me all the way to the door. She flings it open and shoves me out, still yelling, “If you dare come near me again, I’ll kill you!”
I watch her adorable, furious, red face until she slams the door shut.