Romance Me

Billionaire Love - Part Four

Suddenly he was back, crouching above her, his hand gripping her shirt. His voice came out deadly calm, the grating quality like nails on a chalkboard.

"I could have cut your skin to pieces." A finger traveled up her neck, tracing her features. "I could have mutilated your face, violated your body for my own pleasures. But, due to the business of fair trade, I decided to keep my gentlemanly side dominant. Now if you want to bring out the monster, go ahead."

He dipped his face, his cold lips brushing against her ear.

"I dare you."

The girl sat in silence, her limbs trembling.

"No?" the man questioned mockingly. She hesitated.

"What do you mean 'fair trade'?" she asked, her voice cracking. She gulped, her tongue running over the numbness of her lips once more.

A laugh filled her ears as his grip loosened, traveling across her scalp to take hold of the blindfold.

Wait, what?

"You are part of a transaction that will be occurring in approximately three minutes." His hands undid the knot, causing it to loosen across her face. "You will be silent unless told to speak, and will not communicate with the other captor."

Clemein's mind spun chaotically. Transaction? Another captor? She didn't see any other people who looked like they were kidnapped - she thought she was the only one. What could he be talking about?

"Some say you must always keep the blindfold on in these situations," the man's voice mused. "But your eyes are too beautiful an asset not to use. Don't worry, your job is easy. Shed a few tears, stare at him with your big silver depths, encapture the role of the damsel in distress and you will be perfectly fine. Unless, of course, he refuses to complete the trade. But we'll not venture there, will we, dear?"

Suddenly, the blindfold was off. Clemein blinked rapidly, watching as her blurry vision slowly pieced together.

The first thing she saw were eyes. Two cold, icy pale depths that were enforced with countless layers of steel. They pierced through her, analyzing her every move, calculating her every thought. But worst of all was chilling semblance, the sudden panic that those eyes invoked.

They reminded her of Max's.

"What do you want?" the words slipped out of her mouth, vulnerable, fearful.

Clemein watched as the hard, chiseled face shifted, the thin mouth curving up in a terrifying smile. It could not be Max. Though they looked the same age, this man had no softness about him, nor did he have a fake smile. Oh no, his smile was ominously sincere, warped, contorted in the lust of power, of dominance.

Plus, his hair is straight whereas Max's has a slight, complimenting curl.

Clemein blinked. Thank you, brain, for such an insightful observation.

"Captivated aren't you?"

The girl started, her heart jumping as those cold, taunting eyes melded into her own.

"Umm... perhaps?" she replied.

The man's brows furrowed slightly, obviously not expecting such a response. Then, before he could retaliate, one of his many men (which Clemien had the pleasure of being guarded by during her extremely uncomfortable night) walked up to him, speaking in hushed tones.

The leader's face shifted from one of displeased confusion to dark delight. He stood abruptly.

"Take her there and position yourselves accordingly." He projected to the group. "The Great Maximus Claden has arrived."