Arabelle Vine, a 22 year old photographer in Seattle Washington, is happy with her current life. She has friends, a great family, and a job she loves. But Arabelle wants to be more than just content with her life. She wants excitement, and she wants...
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Roman grips my hand tightly in his as we weave through the sea of people. People talk loudly to each other as they wait for the match to start.
We arrived earlier then everyone else so we could see Milo before the big fight. So now as we make our way towards where we are sitting, we have to push through crowds of people who have only just arrived, and have yet to find their seats.
"Mr.King!Mr.King!" Someone calls out, "over here!" All of a sudden me and Roman are surrounded by paparazzi. Cameras flash from every direction, and multiple microphones are shoved in Romans face.
I turn around to see that the paparazzi has blocked the two of us off from the others. I make eye contact with Kai, and watch as he gathers the girls and continues to push them along to our seats.
Luca attempts to make his way through the swarm of reporters. But his attempt is interrupted, as microphones are shoved in his face as well.
"Mr.King!Who is this girl?" One reporter asks.
"Are you family?"
"Are you dating?"
"Are you married?"
Questions are thrown at Roman left and right. He puts his hand up to block his face from the cameras, and ignores the questions.
"Miss!How long have you known Mr.King?" A microphone is shoved in my face, and a flash from a camera momentarily blinds me. I bring my hand up, and cover my eyes from the bright flash. "Are you two dating?"
Before the reporter can ask me any more questions, Roman roughly pulls me into his side. He pushes through the crowd, an angry look on his face, that would even scare me if I didn't know him. He has one hand around my waist, the other on the back of my head. Successfully hiding my face from the paparazzi.
Right as we are about to enter the door that leads us to our seats, a man steps in our way.
"Mr.King, is this pretty lady your girlfriend, or another one of your whores?" The man asks, a smirk on his face as he watches my face fall.
"Move." Roman growls, he places the hand that was on the back of my head on the mans chest. "If you know what's best for you, I suggest you move, before I do something I definitely won't regret."
The mans face drops as he steps out of our way. Roman roughly grips the handle of the door, throwing it open. The door slams behind us as we continue down the private hallway that leads to our seats.
"Roman." I say, barely above a whisper. I look up at him, but he won't meet my eyes. Roman has yet to let go of me, if anything his grip has only tightened. He's breathing heavy, his one hand in a fist at his side.
"Roman, calm down." I tell him, circling a hand behind his back to grip his fisted hand. Roman relaxes as I pull the fist apart, placing my hand in his. He looks down at me, his blue eyes meeting mine.
