𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝕸𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖘 𝕲𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊

Chapter Fifty Eight {Davinia} 🌹

Darcel, the housekeeper, packed both mine and Rolan's breakfast, which I took with me. Andrei was already waiting for me at the garage.

"Rolan won't trust anyone else to drive you," he says when I approach him with a questioning look.

I blow out a breath as I drop my phone into the pockets of my cropped wool white jacket. "Rolan should know I can handle myself."

Andrei nods before opening the door of the jet-black Mercedes for me. "He knows," he says under his breath and closes the door softly once I settle into the plush leather seat.

He climbs into the driver's seat and starts the car. I place the box of our breakfast carefully beside me and pull out my phone. It rings, and Butcher's name lights up the screen. I swipe right.

"Boss del mattino," his raspy, gruff voice filters through the speaker of my phone.

I watch the scenery of the neighborhood as we drive by. "Morning Butcher," I return softly.

He breathes tiredly right into the speaker. My head shakes slowly at him, even when I know he can't see me.

"What did I say about sleeping?"

"You said it's for humans. I'm not human."

I scoff. "I also said it makes one human."

I can picture him nodding mindlessly, with his phone choking in the corner of his neck, as he's probably cooking as we speak. The distant sizzling of hot oil proves me correct.

"The new shipment from China arrived last night. I'll be going to confirm the goods and let you know how it goes."

We stop at a red sign, and pedestrians cross before us. My eyes fixate on a cute five-year-old girl with pigtails excitedly pointing at a hairy brown puppy in front of the recently opened pet store. She's dragging her mum, whose eyes reflect her daughter's beaming smile as she willingly allows herself to be dragged. I blink once.

"Davinia?"

My eyes immediately look away from the duo. The light turns yellow. I collect myself. "Alright Butcher. I'll be expecting your report later today. Call me when you're done and go with enough men this time."

"Yes, Boss." The line cuts, and the light turns green. The drive continues. I sigh.

Now at Rolan's hotel, we take the elevator we used last time. The hallway is empty, as expected, and at the reception is Lydia in a maroon business suit and pants trousers. From the corner of my eye, I catch Andrei suck in a quick breath and let it go without breaking the passive expression on his face.

Lydia's face is baked in makeup, making her look extra spicy, especially her deep red ombre painted plump lips. She immediately gets on her feet when she sees us coming. With a polite smile, she bows. "Good Morning Miss Davinia. Mr. Dimitri just went out for a brief morning coffee with an important business partner. He will be back shortly."

"Alright." I send her a polite smile before making my way into Rolan's office. Andrei stays back, and as soon as the door closes behind me, I hear bickering.

A knowing smile reaches my lips. I set our breakfast on the table and take off my jacket. Rolan's office is spacious and very modern. The walls are made of glass, allowing us inside to see those outside, but not vice versa.

I am busy going through the list of models we'll be using for our fashion collaboration with Prada in Paris. Prada is one of the top five fashion designers in Italy.

The new shoes they're about to release on the streets are so beautiful and classy that people will have no choice but to max out their cards.

The door opens and Rolan walks in, filling the room with the enticing scent of his cologne. "I told the girls to let you eat before doing anything."

Unconsciously, my body arches off the backrest of the sofa. I find his statement offensive. His shoes pad softly but quickly on the floorboard as he walks to stand in front of me.

"I eye him with the same expression Andrei carries most of the time. 'I am not a child, Rolan, but if you continue to treat me like one, you won't like the outcome,' I threaten.

His eyes squint, and his hands leave the comfort of his pockets. He goes down on one knee and opens his right palm to me. On his calloused palm is a velvet ring box. I already know what's in it.

I raise my left brow at him, but he ignores it as he opens the box, revealing a magnificent, exquisite silver ring.

"'I don't want to hear, 'There was no ring on her finger,''" he says.

Oh really.

"He takes my cold hand in his warm one and carefully places the ring on my middle finger. It cools around my finger and fits perfectly.

"I stare hard at the pretty object. Shit is starting to get real. Before I know it, I'll be standing at the altar saying my vows to him, sealing myself in a loveless marriage. My eyes flicker back up to meet his cold eyes staring back at me. They catch me off guard, and my breath seizes in my lungs.

"'Thanks for the gift. It's lovely,' I say breathlessly. He nods slowly without taking his eyes off mine. We continue to stare at one another without saying a word. It suddenly feels like time has come to a halt, and I'm drowning in the bottomless deep sea of his eyes.

"'Sir, Boris is here,' Lydia's voice rings from behind the closed door. With a roll of his eyes, Rolan rises to his feet and tucks his hands into his pockets. The door opens, and I turn to look at who it is.

"A tall, lean man clothed in a dark business suit and pants walks into the office. His blonde bleached hair stands out from his dark appearance. I look up, and I catch him looking down at my chest, where my twins are on display. I mean, I don't blame him; I look irresistible. But it's the smug smirk plastered on his square face.

"I send Rolan a side glance to see him glaring hard at the bleached idiot.

"'Hello, I'm Davinia.' My words come out sweet and tempting as I get up from the sofa. With a smile on my face, I stretch my right hand out for a handshake. 'Who might you be?'

"His smirk widens, and his brown eyes twinkle with mischief and arrogance. He clears his throat, finally looks up at me, and says, 'I'm Boris, the Casino director of this wonderful hotel.' He brags, then proceeds to shake my hand.

"The smile on my face drops, and the moment his hand touches mine, I kick him hard on the right knee. He immediately falls on his left knee with a loud groan escaping his lips. I leave his hand and grab his tie instead, tightening it against the flesh of his neck so hard that his veins begin to bulge, and his widened eyes start to water.

He claws at the material desperately while I tighten it more. "Next time you want to ogle at a lady's chest, make sure she's not engaged to your boss. Idiota."