Her mood fouled by the unfamiliar feeling, Ophelia almost missed the sound of the music starting again, the convergence of people going back to their fun- and Tristan leading the assaulted toward the mirrored door. She jolted out of her unease when Tristan was only a few steps away, and hurried back to his office, shut the door, and picked up her paint brush.
She had barely gotten her breath under control when the door opened once more, and Tristan led the woman inside. Ophelia swallowed hard as she kept her eyes on the painting and resumed her work.
“You hired a different painter,” the woman said through her sniffling.
Without thinking Ophelia turned her head slightly, and was surprised to find that it was raven-haired woman from her first portrait.
“That is a shame,” she sniffled, “I liked the first one. The little nervous fellow.”
Ophelia smirked under her mask but said nothing. How would she explain that she and the ‘little nervous fellow’ were one and the same?
“Yes, well, it turned out the little fellow was a little too nervous to work with us,” Tristan replied, and Ophelia swore she caught a hint of amusement in his voice.
Tristan led the raven-haired to the chair in front of his desk, putting her in Ophelia’s plain view.
“Should I…?” She asked, motioning over her shoulder with a pointed finger.
“You stay right where you are,” Tristan commanded, “You have work to do.”
She glared at him, but obeyed. She had agreed to his rules after all, and that meant no arguing in front of his members.
“Angel, tell me what happened?” Tristan asked, his tone shifting to utter gentleness as he spoke to the raven-haired woman. Ophelia once more felt that strange sense of annoyance, but she pushed it back down and did her best to get back to the painting.
“He knew somehow,” the woman sniffled, “That you had hired me. I suppose he thought that meant I could not say no to him.However, I did not even tell him no! I simply told him that he had to wait. I was about to be engaged in another activity with someone else, but I would have taken him on after. He was just too impatient!”
The woman’s voice drew from sniffling to urgent, as if she was begging Tristan to believe her. Her tone cut through Ophelia’s possessiveness, and she felt the sudden urge to walk over and hug her. She seemed genuinely frightened.
“Calm yourself,” Tristan gently urged, “This is no trial, angel. I believe you. He had no right to attack you like that and hewillbe dealt with.”
“I was going to get to him, my lord, I swear it,” the raven-haired woman insisted.
“Hush now,” Tristan soothed, pulling her back into his embrace, “You do not need to defend yourself to me. Why do you not go home? Take the rest of the night off. Relax yourself.”
Questions started to form in Ophelia’s mind as she listened to the two of them talk, her curiosity for the club growing.
A knock at the door stirred them all, and Tristan called entry.
A muscular, shirtless man with, thick, long black hair just passed his shoulders, black trousers, and a black masked carved into a skull entered, and from behind her she heard the raven-haired woman giggle. Ophelia’s eyes widened at the sight of him andrecognized him as one of the guards that held the man that had been a victim of Tristan’s wrath. She didn’t need to see his face to know that he was devilishly handsome.
“Pardon the interruption, my lord, Angel. I just wanted to see how you were faring,” the man said, closing the door behind him.
Ophelia turned to the woman and saw she was no longer crying. In fact she was looking much better now as her eyes hungrily ate up the sight of the new person.
“You know me, Ajax,” she replied, “I was just startled is all. I am fine. Truly.”
The man smiled, the points of his white canines flashing in the fire light.
“I knew you would be,” he replied. “What shall about it be then? Can I escort you home or would you fancy a tonguing from a hungry man?”
Ophelia’s mouth gaped at the blatant question, but from the laughs that came from Tristan and the raven-haired woman, she gathered that she was the only one surprised.
“Rattle me, darling,” the raven-haired woman all but purred as she walked to him, “Put me back in the proper headspace so I can go back to enjoying my work.”
“With pleasure, my beauty,” Ajax answered, taking her hand with a seductive grin.
They kissed with an intensity that made Ophelia blush and look away, and in doing so she caught Tristan’s gaze. It made her blush hotter.
“Take care of her, Ajax,” Tristan commanded.
