9

It has been three days and two nights since I left his company. At first, I had been certain the pretty lady hadn't given him his note as I told her to but I knew she had when the next day, the tabloids brought out news about the fact that Dante Salvatore had not signed the deal yet.

There are rumours that he got 'external' advice on not to do it so for now, it was put on hold. Was not exactly a cancellation like I'd hoped but it would have been crazy if he had just listened to a complete stranger. Or at the very least, a person whose guts he seemed to hate, wouldn't he?

But all of that was fine now.

I had a date. A dinner date.

"I had asked you many times to go out with me but you kept giving excuses. You said you still felt tired and would rather be left alone," I don't know why Ethan's in my house tonight. The bastard's been acting like a leech recently. He's demanded we go on dates so the public could certify the rumours about us getting married, especially to quell the ones I made.

'IS ETHAN BLAKE PLANNING TO SECURE A BUSINESS DEAL THROUGH HIS SUPPOSED FIANCÉE WITH DANTE SALVATORE?'

That was because they'd seen me walking into his office all those days ago. Of course, Ethan had asked many times why I went there, dressed like that and all, but I told him it was our future and he didn't have to worry about it. I'm sure he let that go because the mere idea that I was serving him after my previous show of stubbornness, pleased him somehow.

He's so simple minded.

"Yes, Ethan," I try to keep the boredom from my voice as I apply my lipstick then move away, adjusting the fur coat around my body. A sleek black sequin dress that hugged my frame, a plunging neckline that showed off my… more than average tits, thigh high slit and black stilettos. My makeup is even darker— Smokey glitter eyeshadow, dark winged eyeliner and a deep crimson lipstick.

My hair's in an upright bun with two curly strands framing my face.

I look like a temptress. Which is good.

I need to tempt a certain elusive male.

"I would still like to be left alone," I clutch my diamond studded purse, not bothering to look in his eyes as I walk out of my room and down the stairs.

Thankfully, no one is in the house to see me— Or Ethan running after me like a headless chicken for that matter. He hadn't cared so much like this before which irritates me more.

The moment I'm out of the house, he suddenly grabs my arm from behind and forces me to turn around. I look at him now, his eyes wild with confusion and disbelief, "You won't tell me where you're going? Dressed like this? Do I have to find out about this on the news as well?"

For the first time since I woke up, a different emotion spikes up in me— An emotion I know more than anything else. Fear. "Ethan. Let go of me."

He's sneering now, his face in such a deep scowl that I know it. With all of these questions and pretence of wanting to be seen with me, he still hates me. "Or what? You think you can whore yourself around? You're mine."

His hold on my arm tightened, digging into my skin and if I have to beat some sense into you so that—"

"Let her go, Blake,"

That voice…

My thoughts drag themselves out of the terror filled haze they were buried in as I turn to look at the person who had just spoken, my breath hitching slightly.

Dante Salvatore stands behind a sports car, his arms folded with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing muscular and beefy arms. He has on a black shirt and pants— I realize there that we're matching now— And a bored expression on his face.

Ah. Why am I just realizing this is the first time I'm seeing him since I was thirteen?

"What are you doing here, Salvatore?"

All it takes is three strides for him to be beside me. He smells dark… Dangerous. I can feel myself growing cold just by being this close to him even with the fur coat I have on, Especially now as he towers over me even with the heels I have on, his voice dropping an octave lower. "Let her go."

Nothing about his voice gives any hint of him acknowledging anything Ethan said, his apathy extending to him.

My eyes tear themselves away from Dante to the man in front of me. Ethan Blake looks vicious, like he just got his tail stepped on. I can see all the veins on his forehead and neck pulsing now but all of a sudden, he's laughing.

His hand is off me now and he's raising both hands up in the air in mock defeat as he says, "You've always been so bloody temperamental—"

Dante doesn't bother to wait for a response. He's gone the same way he came, not even bothering to pay any attention to me as he slips into the passenger seat of his car and waits.

I know better than to ask any questions— Especially in front of Ethan— As I turn back to look at the male in question and hiss in a spite-filled whisper, "I swear to god, if you touch me again, I will personally put a hit on your head."

I see the moment he realizes that I am not joking as slight terror fills his eyes but I don't bathe in it. Instead, I turn away and walk to the parked car and slip inside without sparing a second glance at him.

The smell of pure, refined leather and sandalwood slams into my nose but it is not upsetting. Not when I watch Dante lean more into his car's seat, one hand on the steering wheel as a laser focused look comes to his face as he speeds out into the street.

He looks like he was born for that. Driving expensive cars like this. But I know better than dwelling on that type of emotion for too long as I look away, trying to hold back the smile creeping up my lips.

Let the game begin.