The Heir

Chapter 43

"You're a really talented dancer, Elle," Duke says earnestly. "You're going to do great."

"Thanks," a genuine smile tugs at my lips.

He gives that lopsided cocky grin and my chest tightens. But not in a bad way, not the way that anxiety feels like it's eating me from the inside out. Whatever it is that caused the sensation is new to me.

The driver parks the car outside the corporate building and hurries to open my door. I step out, uttering a quiet thanks, and start for the entrance. Duke is at my side in a second, holding open the glass door.

The receptionist looks up as we enter. She smiles politely before picking up the phone. Duke and I take our, now typical, seats in the lobby. I'm not sure how he starts his day here, but mine always begins with Rome being as openly flirtatious as possible.

Apparently today is no exception.

Rome strides towards us with a smug grin, "my love. I always enjoy when you wear your uniform here."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes and stand, "I didn't have ballet so I didn't bother to change."

Rome places his large hands on my waist, practically encapsulating my entire form. I play the part, draping my arms around his neck and putting on a love sick smile.

"I have so many ideas with you wearing this," he says, loud enough for the entire lobby to hear. He has to be doing it on purpose. "Or, parts of this."

I quirk a brow and drop my voice to a whisper, "stop."

His brows furrow for a moment but he quickly composes himself, "let's continue this conversation privately, hm? My office?"

"Sounds like fun," I purr. I know how to fake flirt, I do it all the time just for fun. But doing it with Rome is different.

He's so fucking confident. Like he's convinced that if he's flirtatious enough, I'll change my mind and actually sleep with him. I think that's secretly his plan. That I could tolerate; that's the way most boys I've met approach me.

But there's something about seeing Duke's face. The hurt and defeat. I hate it.

Rome urges me towards the elevator, steering us directly in front of Duke. I can't find it in myself to look him in the eye. This feels worse than anything I have ever done to him before.

But I don't have the luxury of worrying about Duke or my friends or even myself really. Not today. Today the only thing I need to focus on is how I can help my family.

"So, l'vitsa," Rome says, closing the door to his office. "How did it go with the Irish boy?"
(Lioness)

"I killed him," I say passively, sitting on the couch next to the windows. "Got information first, though."

"That's my girl," he smirks, sitting in the chair across from me.

I roll my eyes, "I'm not yours."

"As far as everyone else is concerned, you most certainly are," he counters quickly.

"It's an act," I remind him firmly.

"Haven't you heard of costars falling in love?" he leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Especially when one is so fucking sexy and the other is richer than you could even imagine."

"And which of the two categories do you fall into?" I quip.

"I suppose both," he tilts his head. "But you do as well."

"Can you stop? Please?" I sigh. Much like the other men who I manipulate, I usually tolerate this banter to a degree. But I just can't today.

His face drops, "what happened?"