“Surprise!” Hadrian says cockily from behind. “You thought you could escape me, didn’t you?” He whispers in my ear, his voice deep and menacing. But the laugh that escapes from him is filled with pure amusement and triumph.
I’m too shocked to speak. How did he find me? It’s impossible.
I watch him, still in shock, as he grabs my phone and places the bills back where they came from. He places my phone in his pocket and takes out his own, pops the cover off, and retrieves his debit card.
Well, one thing we now have in common is where we keep our money.
He surprises me by paying for my drink. Then the surprise evaporates as he takes my drink away from me.
I continue to watch as the barista hands him a receipt. He cocks an eyebrow and waves it off, but then he notices that she wrote her number on it and quickly snatches it back.
A strong emotion hits me at his sudden action, and I think it’s a pang of jealousy mixed with hurt. I don’t even know Hadrian that well, and I hate the fact that his suspected playboy actions stir any emotion within me.
Then he leans closer to the barista and whispers something in her ear. Suddenly, my jealousy is mixed with a deeper hurt.
The barista’s expression shifts, and now she looks hurt, leaving me confused. What could Hadrian possibly say to a stranger to wound her so deeply? Unless he knows her-more jealousy creeps in.
He drags me out of the Starbucks by the chain that connects the handcuffs. My gaze remains fixed on the barista, and as she watches us leave, her hurt palpable. I hate myself even more for feeling a twisted sense of triumph at her pain.
As we exit, I catch a glimpse of Hadrian handing the receipt to a guy who’s been staring at the barista.
The gesture seems small but sweet, and it makes me smile, especially since he didn’t keep her number. Unless he already has it. I frown at the possibility.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I skid to a stop, realizing we’re outside, standing in front of his car.
He looks at me, and I can see the tension in his muscles.
“What did you say to the barista?” I ask, my voice small as I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Why the fuck do you need to know,” he responds harshly, his voice on edge.
His tone silences me. But then he realizes how harsh that came out, and his expression softens.
“Sorry, I’m just a bit agitated about something,” he apologizes sincerely, and I’m taken aback by his sudden shift into a more caring demeanor.
He must notice my wide eyes because he laughs, throwing his head back just enough for me to see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as the beautiful melody escapes his perfect pink lips.
God, I wanna kiss him.
Leading me by the chains of the cuffs to the passenger side of his Mustang, he opens the door for me to get in. What a gentleman.
He waits for me to hop in, but instead, I just look at him and shake my head.
With an amused expression painted across his face, he surprises me by swooping me up bridal style and gently placing me in the passenger seat.
Impatient much. A simple please would’ve done just fine.
He leans against the open door, looking down at me with that smirk as he shakes his head, like a disappointed parent looking at their child.
I feel like a child.
He shuts the door, and I immediately try to open it, but it’s locked. Now I’m scared. The fear rises again in my stomach.
He slides over the hood and jumps into the driver’s seat.
Without further ado, I ask him the question that’s been eating me alive.
“Sooo, how’d you find me?”
“Well, the best place to hide is the least expected. But in your case, the most expected,” he answers amused by my sudden interest.
I gasp, “How is going to a Starbucks the most expected thing to do when you’re on the run?”
My voice holds complete disbelief and confusion.
“On the run?” Hadrian questions.
“Don’t avoid my question,” I tell him sternly, narrowing my gaze at him.
“Well, I’ve also been ‘on the run’ before,” he finally answers my question. Wait,
“What do you mean also?” I question. I never told him that I’ve been on the run before.
“I mean that I know you’ve ran away from someone before, especially by the way you got out of sight almost immediately. And the fact that you knew you should hide in a place least expected by most,” he states casually, like he knows everything about me.
“So how was Starbucks the ‘most expected’ place I’d be?”
Hadrian just shrugs in response.
I try to cross my arms, but I forgot that they’re still hand cuffed.
“Can you take these off now?” I ask him.
His devilish smirk reappears as he replies, “Nope,” popping the ‘p’ playfully.
The rest of the ride passes in silence as I stare out the window. Some really good songs play from the radio, most forgotten with time.
Suddenly, Hadrian pulls into the driveway of the Salvator manor.
I thought he was going to take me to Sofie’s, but then again, he doesn’t know where she lives.
I’m glad he didn’t take me there. I’m not prepared to deal with whatever problem Hadrian had caused between Sofia and me.
I snap out of my thoughts as Hadrian opens the door for me. Before I can even get out of the car, he’s already walking away.
As I walk inside my penthouse-type place, I’m surprised to see that everything is cleaned up and looking better than when I left it.
Hadrian never bothered to remove the handcuffs, so changing and getting ready for bed wasn’t easy.
Since changing was such a struggle, I decided to just sleep in a pair of lacey black underwear. the weather is quite hot anyway.
*
The heat is killing me. I’m constantly tossing and turning and can barely get some good sleep.
I lay in silence on top of my bed, with my limbs sprawled out across the sheets, in attempt to cool down. Just as I’m about to drift off into sleep again, a faint sound catches my attention. Splashing?
Curious, I throw on a black silk robe and step onto the balcony.
Looking out at the view, I spot Hadrian cutting through the water of the grand pool, lap after lap. He glides effortlessly, each stroke smooth and controlled, as if he’s alone in his own world.
“Enjoying the view?” His voice jolts me out of my thoughts, and I feel my cheeks heat up. He must have noticed me staring.
Before I can even process what to say, he smirks. “So, you’re the Salvator family’s personal assistant, yeah? That means the whole family. Which includes me, right?”
“I… guess so,” I murmur, reluctant but unable to deny it.
“Good. Then you have five seconds to get down here-or I’ll kick you out again,” he commands, entitlement oozing from every word. You’ve got to be kidding me! He is absolutely unbelievable.
“What? You can’t just-“
“You do work for me, don’t you?” he interrupts, his gaze fixed on me with that same unyielding intensity.
I think for a moment. He does have a point…
“Four, three…” he starts counting down.
Without another thought, I bolt down the stairs as fast as my exhausted legs can carry me. I’ve got nowhere to go if he kicks me out again, and I’m too tired to think up another plan or figure out a place to stay.
I reach him in record time, still in my silk robe and, unfortunately, still handcuffed.
“Happy now?” I manage, barely catching my breath. “What do you want, Hadrian?”
“Fetch me my bottle of whiskey and a glass from the lounge, would you?” he says casually, like he’s asking me to pass the salt. “Too lazy to get it myself. And I forgot a towel. Wouldn’t want to wet the floors now. And bring two towels while you’re at it.”
Walking lazily to fulfill his demands, a sneaky thought crosses my mind.
The second I’m out of Hadrian’s sight, I rush into the lounge, grab his whiskey, and bolt into the kitchen.
I pour a small amount into a separate glass, just to taste it. It’s been a while.
I down the shot of brown liquid, feeling the sensual burn as it glides smoothly down my throat. A slight sting hits the back of my nose, and as I finish the whiskey, the warmth spreads through my stomach. It’s soothing, calming, and makes everything feel… a little less urgent.
No wonder Hadrian loves this stuff. But no time for distractions-I’ve got to stick to my master plan.
I almost pour the rest of the whiskey down the drain, but after tasting it, I can’t bring myself to waste what’s left.
Opening the wine rack, I find an almost empty bottle. I down the remaining wine, then pour half of the whiskey into the bottle.
I stash it under the sink for later, then grab a jug of water and fill it up as quick as possible. I set it beside the whiskey and grab the red and yellow food coloring.
Placing drops of food coloring into the water, I get it to match the color of the whiskey perfectly. I carefully pour it into the bottle, making sure it looks like nothing’s been touched.
Grabbing two towels, a glass, and the bottle as requested, I make my way back to the pool. I check the clock on my way out-only three minutes have passed. Record timing again, I guess.
“Here’s your whiskey, Mr. Salvator,” I say sweetly, giving a mock curtsy as I present the one thing he truly loves.
I’m probably acting like this because of the whiskey I drank-or maybe it’s just the excitement of seeing the look on his face when he takes that first sip.
He’ll probably be angry, but the whiskey’s got me too mellow to bother.
I carefully place the items next to him on the edge of the pool.
“HADRIAN!”
Before I know it, my entire body-shoulders down-is submerged in the water. Guess who decided to yank me into the pool.
I should’ve known better. Why else would he have asked me to bring two towels?
I glare up at him, completely annoyed, only to notice that his eyes are dark, pupils dilated so much to the point I can barely see the green in his eyes.
I follow his gaze down to my body. The force of the water when he pulled me in must’ve loosened the knot I tied, leaving the robe wide open, exposing me in nothing but my black lace underwear.
I should feel uncomfortable under his stare, but the way he’s looking at me right now… it makes me feel things-things I shouldn’t be feeling with him.
Instead of backing away, my gaze lingers on him, taking in every defined line of his body. Fuck, I was right, he does have muscles-so many of them, and the way his abs and obliques carve down his torso makes him look sexy as hell. He’s way more sculpted than me, and it pisses me off that it only adds to his appeal. My throat tightens, but I don’t let myself look away, not yet.
Something in me shifts, a part of me I can’t rein in, and suddenly, I’m reaching out, fingers tracing lightly over his abs. He doesn’t flinch, but I hear the sharp breath he sucks in.
Then, before I can process, his hands are on my hips, firm and unyielding. In one swift motion, he lifts me from the water, setting me down on the cool edge. The effortless movement surprises me, and the space between us is charged with an unknown energy.
This sense of uncertainty between us triggers something within me.
Fuck. I wish I was normal, but I’m not.
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