Vendetta

4. Orchestra

Mischievous grin approached my features when a muscle in his jaw twitched.

"That's the first you called out my name," he gripped my waist, drawing me closer.

I run my fingers through his glossy jet black hair, carelessly playing with the disheveled locks.

Our eyes glinted with strong desire playing along an entirely pointless lie.

On the other hand, our circumstances doomed upon us the abhorrent grounds which stood amid us.

I pushed him away.

Surprisingly effective unlike other times, "if I were you, i wouldn't throw myself off-guard just to slake the itch down my pants,"

As I strode towards the kitchen, the handsome man followed me in silence. Apparently, his eyes scanning everything around. It felt as though he was figuring the floor plan of my cottage.

"The Berlin Philharmonie is holding a grand orchestra concert this fortnight, to which you would accompany me," He proclaimed breaking the ice.

Before I made attempts to protest, he coolly added, "I saw you had lunch with a friend of yours few days back, hmm, on Wednesday if I remember correctly...,"

I knew very well what he was implying at.

"Do you not have anybody else? I'm sure women throw themselves at you," I asserted with scornful eyes that hardly withered him by demanding for an answer.

It sounded rather personal than intended and Mentally cringed at myself  for not putting minimal efforts to think twice before I spoke.

"I shall exploit you the way i desire, Nohra,"

There was more to the words he uttered, more than he intended.

"Then, that's all i am, an object of your desire," a strain in my voice braced the dissapointment i felt,

Why have i started to feel this way?

"I'm not in position to jeopardize a crucial surgery for the sake of revelry, Mr. Morreti," I tried negotiating despite an urge to kick him in the balls.

"I was never left with a choice, either,"

Reasoning with this man irritated me. It drained into futility regardless of innumerable attempts to drive at a bargain.

Taking a step forward to where I stood, his hand held my chin, the rough pad of his thumb slowly caressing my jaw.

He paused for a brief moment and then murmured, "why does it have to be you?"

I was taken aback by the unanticipated rhetorical question. My eyes searched for answers in his, only to find guilt repleted in them.

So to speak, vengeance burdened a being when the heart and mind confuted one's intentions.

Mr. Morreti towered above me, strong hands barricading an escape at either sides from where I stood.

Hungry gaze fell into the exposed areas of my skin suddenly making me conscious about the loose tank top hung upon my lanky body.