“Come here.”
Chapter 9
‘Christian’
A low groan trickles from me. I don’t even have the energy to curse him, let alone defend myself. Doesn’t he have anything else to do than watch me?
Tobias is practically on his seventh drink by the bar—with no sign of intoxication by the way, I might have to ask him to teach me—
Xavier’s chatting with all the guests who approach him with a professional smile, exuding the charm of a VIP guest, instead of a bodyguard.
Gabriel is the only one keeping to himself, like a wallflower on the south side, steering people away by being his usual rude, asshole self.
But I talk to one woman and Reuben wants to throw me overboard.
“Where are you, sir?” I respond calmly through the device, but I think I’ve finally worked up the energy to be frustrated. I spot him before he can answer, and something strange happens to my nerves when our eyes meet. There’s a smile on his lips and a heat to his eyes that looks feral. His grey jacket is thrown over one shoulder and his sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows as though he’s prepared to fight on the fly.
For a moment, he looks every bit the son of a major mafia family.
Wild and barely kept on the end of his leash.
“Knowing when to be polite with me is good,” his voice is a low taunt in my ear that only intensifies my nerves. “Smart.”
Crazy bastard.
He turns away from me without any motion to follow, but I do so anyway. One look across the bar, and I meet Tobias’ eyes. I’m hoping he saw the exchange and noted my distress, but he only salutes two fingers towards me from his forehead, before turning back to down his drink.
Looks like a death salute to me.
Useless.
Reuben leads me away from the crowd and down below deck without another word, and the entire time, my frustration is mounting. The silence between us is charged and he leads me down a decorated corridor before opening the door to a room for me to enter. Suite 106. He and I stand locked like that for maybe four seconds, before I convince myself I need this over with. The longer the night wears on, the worse my emotions fray at the seams. I don’t even know who to blame for it now. Myself? The drink? Lucia? Reuben?
I steel myself as I step inside the suite. It’s separated into a living space with a black piano at its centre, and a door leading to what must be the bedroom and bathroom. There’s even a sliding glass door that leads to a large deck on the outside, and it reminds me of another James Cavalier saying.
‘Money can get you anywhere.’
The moment the door closes I turn to face Reuben, but I don’t even get a word in before he grabs my cheeks with one hand and pulls my face up.
“What the fu—”
“Odio este maldito colour en ti,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Whad? Whad are you ‘oing?” It’s a mess trying to talk with his grip on my jaw.
“This. You see this?” He shakes my face left and right, “I'm fucking tired of seeing this. I think it's about time you show me something else.”
A flash of anger shoots up my spine, and I attempt to wrench his hand away but the bastard doesn’t budge.
“Le’ go of me, ‘astard,” I shoot him a withering look.
Reuben tilts his head as if coming to a realization, “On second thought, this is kind of adorable.”
I have to use both hands to pry his fingers off my face, “What’s wrong with you?” I snap, rubbing my jaw. “You’re fucking crazy.”
“The surprise is really uncalled for,estrellito,” the amusement in his eyes is suspicious to say the least, “but the anger is cute too, I don’t see that one often.”
“I’m not a fucking TV,” I slap his hand away as it reaches for my face again.
