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I scoff. Of course. Men like him always want one thing. “No, thank you.” I knew he was too good to be true.
“We can talk, that’s all,” he says, feigning innocence, and it’s almost convincing.
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
“That’s not my intention.”
My eyes narrow into slits. “You expect me to believe that you’re not trying to take me somewhere quiet to get in my pants. Not credible for a second.”
“Let me prove you wrong, then.” Dion’s lips part into a wide grin, and I’m again enveloped by his beauty. Fuck me. I can barely contain my smile. But I stand firm.
“I said no. I’m perfectly fine here.”
I turn to check on Angelica—but she’s no longer in the booth. My eyes search for her in the crowd, telling myself not to be worried, when I spot her on the dance floor alone. Correction: not alone. She’s glued to a man who is now grabbing onto her hips, palms flat on her waist. She hooks her arm around his neck and grinds onto him, looking toward us with mischief in her eyes. I follow her gaze and find a very angry Evan clutching onto his glass.
Oh my God. Angelica is putting on a show for him. What the fuck did I miss? How long have Dion and I been talking?
I have a feeling this will not end well.
Evan gets off his seat in one swift movement and mutters something to the two men standing behind him, who appear to be his guards, and heads toward the dancing crowd.
“What’s happening? What is he doing?” I look at Dion for help, but he simply shrugs.
“Trust me, he’s far past convincing now. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt her.” He sounds so confident, and I want to believe him, but I still want to go talk to Angelica.
I wiggle my way off the couch, but Dion grabs onto my arm. “Stay here.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I spit, jerking away from him.
Evan is now on the dance floor in a heated discussion with the guy. Then, the music abruptly stops. “Everybody. Out. Now,” I hear him seethe.
I jump up. Just as I’m about to run to Angie, Dion wraps his arm around my waist, lifts me in the air like a sack of potatoes, and throws me over his shoulders.
“What the fuck, Dion? Put me down, now!”
I try to fight him, but he’s too big and overpowering. My protests fall on deaf ears, drowned out by his chuckle and the amused glances from his friend. Dion doesn’t even flinch as I thrash against his back.
All I feel are the hard muscles flexing under my palms. His strength radiates through my fingertips, and, for a moment, I just want to run my hands all over him. The temptation is almost overwhelming and—no, I need to focus.
“Where are you taking me?” I shout, my irritation growing by the second. The sooner I’m back on solid ground, the better. Then, I will berate him properly.
“Somewhere fucking quiet, you psycho,” he laughs. What an asshole.
We head upstairs, Dion somehow managing to carry me up a few flights as if I were a feather. He opens a door before gently putting me down.
Disgruntled, I straighten my clothes, trying to regain some composure while shooting daggers at him. My cheeks are flushed with embarrassment and lingering annoyance. I could kill him.
I prepare to give him a piece of my mind, but the words get stuck in my throat as he locks the door and leans against it, crossing his arms at his chest with a self-satisfied smile on his face.
“Why did you lock us in?” I ask, now a little concerned about my well-being. Actually, I didn’t think about my safety at all. I was too distracted by the chaos and his beautiful, green eyes. He could be a bad man and hurt me.
My heart pounds, beating furiously against my chest. He doesn’t answer.
“If I don’t get home tonight, my fiancé will be worried,” I blurt out, hoping it’ll put him off. I’m not technically engaged yet, but it’s in the works. My father announced a few weeks ago that he’d be arranging a union with one of his counterparts. I’m still trying to convince him it’s a bad idea.
At twenty-three years old, I never thought I’d be forced into a marriage against my will. My father always implied that such an option would never be on the table. The news came out of the blue and shocked our entire family. But what Baba says, goes, and now I’m just hoping it was a rash decision he made in the heat of the moment. I refuse to believe he would allow his little girl to marry a complete stranger. It feels like my world has been turned upside down, and all I can do is cling to the hope that my father will come to his senses and put an end to it.
Right now, though, I’ll use it to my advantage.
