38. Ariyan #2
Forever cautious, I ensured no one had seen me leaving the hotel, and upon my return, I did the same. I had my ways to go unnoticed, methods that came in handy at times like this.
Nearly two in the morning, I walked down the empty halls of the hotel, while all I could think about was a boiling shower to wash away the filth.
Tonight had left me feeling dirty. From the inside out, I was rotten, and while there was nothing I could do to change that, I had to grit my teeth and survive just a little bit longer.
Reaching my office at last, I exhaled slowly, then went to unlock the door.
Oddly enough, it was already open. Not wasting time, I grabbed the handle and pushed it open.
Walking in, I didn’t know what to expect, but the sight of Mr. Rivas sitting in my chair, legs propped on the desk, sure took me by surprise.
My mouth crimped at this blunt display of rebelliousness, yet I kept my cool and instead locked the door behind me.
“What’s the meaning of this?” I asked, my stare dipping to his shoes, which he dared to place on my paperwork.
“You’re back late,” he said, bluntly ignoring my question while scrolling through his phone. “Where were you?”
Only then did he look up from his phone to meet my stare, and I noticed something was different about his eyes. Anger. There, lurking deep behind his crystal irises, was rage I hadn’t seen in quite some time.
“Where I was is none of your business.”
His stare hardened. “Always keeping secrets, aren’t you?”
His shift in mood clearly indicated something had happened, which led me to wonder—
“Did you lose the fight? Is that why you’re here, sulking like a big baby?”
Fury crossed his face, and it looked like he was about to snap at me, when instead, he bit his lip and slumped back in the chair.
“I won,” he said, eyes not meeting mine.
“So shouldn’t you celebrate?”
Keeping quiet, his mouth was set in a tight grimace. Having had enough of this act, I walked over to him.
“I sense something is weighing on your conscience, Mr. Rivas.”
Still refusing to meet my stare, he let out a fake laugh. His attitude danced on my nerves, and so I pushed his legs off my desk. His shoes hit the floor, yet before he could protest, I grabbed the chair’s armrests and leaned forward.
“I’m about to lose my patience, so you better speak up.”
His bright eyes burned like blue flames as he glared back at me.
“You’re one to talk.”
Confused, my brows pulled inward. “What on earth are you talking about?”
He pushed back from the chair so our faces were an inch apart. “I’m talking about the hundreds of thousands of dollars you’re making ’cause of me,” he hissed.
My jaw ticked at his words at the same time my throat went dry. “Who did you talk to?”
His whole face twisted with rage.
“That’s what you care about?” He jumped to his feet, forcing me to take a few steps back so he wouldn’t headbutt me.
“Don’t forget your place.” I considered reaching for my gun when he spoke.
“My place?” He walked closer until he practically loomed over me. “Without me, you’d earn fucking nothing,” he growled, eyes fierce.
Not about to let him raise his voice at me like some beast, I jabbed my hand at his chest.
“It’s my money I’m betting on—”
He snatched my hand, his fingers digging into my flesh. “And it’s my body on the line.”
Anger cinched my chest, and I clenched my jaw until it hurt. “This was the agreement since the beginning.” I seethed, feeling my pulse pounding in my ears. “An agreement you accepted.”
As if something snapped inside him, he grabbed my hand harder and pulled me closer. The heat radiating from his body irritated me just as much as the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with sweat.
“One hundred thousand dollars. That’s what he told me they paid you. You, who didn’t step foot in that cage.”
My eyes widened before a laugh escaped me.
“I see now, so you did talk to someone. Who was it, Sinclair? Or did the French bastard come to see you himself?” Wrath simmered beneath my skin, threatening to boil over at the thought of his betrayal. Or worse, the fear of losing my advantage.
“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he roared, and the madness in his eyes at that moment reminded me of what he was.
A beast.
A tool.
A pawn. My pawn to do with as I pleased.
He wasn’t mad about the money, not really.
He was mad about the unfairness of the equation.
He thought he deserved to be my equal, not understanding that he was so much better than I’d ever be.
And yet, he still allowed me to use him, and something out there, whether it was my miserable fate or bad luck, was threatening to take it all away.
My heart beat fast at the thought, inflaming me with more anger on top of rage, and unable to bear this growing pain in my chest another second, I lunged forward until my lips crashed with his in a violent kiss.
Immediately releasing my wrist, he moved his hands down my body as he gripped my waist and pulled me close until I pressed against him.
Without a shred of common decency, he licked into my mouth, his tongue twirling with mine.
His body was hot, his movements powerful, and fearful of losing myself in his essence, I fisted his hair and pulled his head back.
A string of spit drew between our lips as he stared at me with hooded eyes.
And the look he gave me, a mixture of fury and need, flipped my stomach upside down.
He was so alive, and I knew that if I looked away at that moment, all I’d see were the people I killed tonight.
And for a change, I didn’t want that. What I wanted was a taste of this fire burning inside him.
That same blaze that so often drove me mad but perhaps could keep me warm through this long night.
“Come here,” I hissed a second before I pulled him close, once again crashing my lips with his in a desperate attempt to tighten the leash around his neck.