Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
When I walked into the dining room to eat my dinner, I stopped dead in my tracks. He was already in there, sitting at the head of the table, waiting for me. For a second, I contemplated turning back around and walking out on his ass. But I stayed, giving him the benefit of the doubt. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t torn with how I felt about seeing him, especially under less extreme circumstances. His eyes were serene, full of stillness again, while a smile played on his lips, a smile I couldn’t overlook.
He wasn’t dressed any different, still hiding behind the expensive suit. Except this time his suit jacket was missing, his tie had been loosened, hanging low from his neck. The first few buttons of his colored shirt undone, displaying that silver chain necklace I saw the first night he brought me here. And exactly like that night, I was anxious to know what it was.
He nodded for me to take a seat next to him, breaking my train of thought, but I didn’t obey. I sat on the other end of the long, narrow table, defying him once again. A grin appeared on his face as I took my seat and grabbed my napkin. Strategically placing it in my lap. I ignored him and his stupid handsome face, pretending as if I didn’t care he was there with me.
When in reality, I did.
He cleared his throat. “How was your day, Lexi?” he asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence between us.
My head perked up. I just about fell out of my chair, shocked by his trivial question. He never took any interest in anything I did during the days. I was left alone. I shrugged as an answer, not ready to give him the time of day. I thought I saw him grin again, but didn’t pay him any mind. He spent most of dinner asking me random questions, and I casually answered them with one word or a nod.
Who was this man, and what did he do with Martinez?
I was just happy to see he pulled the stick out of his pompous ass, for a little while, at least. Once I was done with my meal, I threw my napkin on the table and abruptly stood, leaving without even so much as a goodbye. I went to my room, trying to brush off our encounter. Forcing myself to believe it was a one-time thing. I didn’t allow room for hope, I couldn’t take any more disappointments.
But the next day, there he was again.
Waiting for me.
In the following months, it was the same exact routine. Eating together almost every night, sometimes he’d even stick around for dessert. Little by little, I started talking to him more, forgiving him for being who he was.
The Devil.
He never answered any of my questions, brushing them off, or changing the subject. Always turning the tables on me. I had no choice but to answer him. They were never personal, just random conversation you would have with a friend. We weren’t friends though.
To be honest, I didn’t know what we were.
One night, a few weeks after, he said he wanted to discuss something with me. He was going to allow me to go back to work. But, I had to keep an arsenal of bodyguards with me at all times, since it still wasn’t safe for me to be on my own yet. With one of his limos and drivers taking me to and from work. At that point in time, I would have agreed to anything just to get out of the house. I had no idea how he managed to keep my job open, considering how many ballerinas were trying out for The American Ballet daily. I’m sure it cost him a great deal of money, or some threats.
Either way, I appreciated it nonetheless.
I fell back into work like I had never been away. It was so liberating being back in the real world, and not being in the penthouse all day and night. I felt like a new person, and I had Martinez to thank for that. On most days I’d be home from work by five in the afternoon, I always tried to put in a few more hours of dance in my studio and then head down to the dining room in time for dinner.
With him.
“I’ll be right back,” I announced, peeking my head into the dining room after work on evening. “I’m going to go change out of my dance clothes real quick.” I went to turn and leave, but a strong, masculine voice stopped me.
“Don’t,” Martinez ordered.
I started to notice when I came back to the penthouse after work, he liked seeing me in my ballet attire. He would eye me up and down with a wicked look in his eyes. The same exact one he was staring at me at that moment.