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I don’t recognize his escort who’s been left behind to sit at the table. When he travels for business meetings, he often leaves my stepmother, Sarah, in Boston. She was only ever permitted out of Boston when my father decided to take her on a luxurious holiday.
“What are you doing here?” His gaze settles on Luca’s hand on my lower back. “With Mr. Armani?” He offers a polite enough smile, but I can tell it’s insincere. It’s very much the same as the one the monster beside me offers.
“I invited your daughter as my companion tonight. Considering how up and coming she is, I figured she’d one day be invited to such events of her own accord,” Luca says with a charming smile.
My father pauses before dismissively adding, “How kind.” A bell rings and members begin to take their seat. “If I could have a brief word with my daughter.” My father grabs my elbow and pulls me away with a hushed tone.
“Why are you here with Luca Armani? You’re playing with fire, Arabella. Do you really think I’ll allow this?”
I keep my composure as if it’s a pleasant exchange only because of the spectacle it would make otherwise. Not that I really cared about knocking my father down a few pegs. So instead, I sweetly say, “I don’t know what you mean father. I’m simply out with a friend.”
“Luca Armani does not have friends. We made an agreement before you left Boston.”
Luca interrupts with a benevolent smile. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take my date to be seated.” Oddly enough, I’m almost grateful for his intrusion, although I know it doesn’t end this conversation. My father does not take kindly to things out of his control—his family included and especially me.
Quite frankly he can shove his agreement up his ass.
Luca pulls my chair out, and I thank him gratefully. I can sense a few eyes on us and presume to play the part. I have the sense Luca is enjoying it, not their attention but most likely what he considers as my submission. He recognizes in a social setting I’ll tame myself. It’s almost seeming like a game to him now.
A man stands up, drawing the attention of the room before beginning his speech.
Underneath the table, Luca rests his hand on my knee, and I pull a tight, polite smile as he leans into me. “You hate it as much as I do, don’t you? These men who have nothing better to do than flash their money about.”
I lean into him. “It’s strange how you think you’re any different. Maybe the only difference is you actually have a big cock.”
I regret it the moment it leaves my mouth because I can sense his lazy smile before I glance in his direction.
“You like my cock.”
“That’s not what I said,” I hiss under my breath.
Dmitri, who sits across from us, clears his throat, and I notice a few people glance in our direction.
“Should we leave?” Luca asks, and his hand trails gently over my dress and digs into my inner thigh.
“Not unless you want that fork on your left staked into your leg,” I add with another tight smile and clap as everyone else does.
Luca chuckles and casually leans back in his chair as the main meal is brought out. His mood immediately sours the moment a dish with scallops is placed in front of him. They place chicken in front of me.
I internally roll my eyes and exchange our plates. “Stop pouting. Seafood is not going to kill you.”
“It already tried once. I don’t give things a second chance.”
It’s exhausting, this chain and leash business, and I can’t figure out why he’s involved my father. It’s the only reason I can think he’d want our association known publicly and here specifically. Because to every other member in this room, I’m nothing.
“Why are you dragging me along to this? You don’t need my father’s influence,” I say quietly as I pierce a scallop. He also seems to have little interest in his dish.
“No, I don’t. I don’t think you’re in the position to ask any questions unless you’re willing to tell me why you have a secret little room and diary all about me. I’m sure as hell interested in that.”
My throat constricts.
“No wonder you’re single,” I say. “Your manners toward women is deplorable.”
His slow sensual smile gives me the chills. “Didn’t I already tell you? I own you. You’re not a woman to me, but a possession. One I’d prefer not to speak.”
“I’m sure all the conversations you have with yourself go swimmingly then,” I add as I bite into the scallop, never removing my gaze from his.
The cruel smile remains. “Very daring, Ara. Are we going to be like this all night?”
