She stares up at him, obviously determined to hold her ground. Her dark eyes glint... dangerously? And yet, she makes no move to back away or tell him to move.
Lucan leans over her, cocking his head to the side. "I didn't hear you the first time, Je...
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♕ J E L E N A ♕
Jelena finds herself reeling as she desperately attempts to process what she had just heard.
She's being offered to marry a man she had barely met a few hours ago.
A man who's made her nervous for reasons unknown on multiple accounts.
A man whose name she does not know.
A man who, so far, puts her (slightly) at unease.
Think of the money, she assures herself. Aziel needs it. You might as well agree to the contract.
"If you could please stop staring at the door with your mouth open, Ms. Elias. I'd like to get this show on the road and I would very much prefer if you weren't catching flies." The deep timbre of the man's voice shatters her thoughts, disorganizing her train of thought.
Jelena turns to see that the man had stood. Now that they are side by side, she registers just how tall he is, or rather, just how short she is. Domenico Cacciatore's (assumed) son towers over her, his broad shoulders measuring up to the crown of her head. He straightens the expensive-looking silver watch on his wrist and looks down at her, his pale blue eyes piercing her soul.
The waitress decides to ignore his rudeness. She tugs on the end of one of her braids and cranes her neck to look up at him, cocking her head slightly to the side. "What are you going on about?"
Rather than answer her question, he holds out his hand. Jelena's gaze falls to it. "My name is Lucan Cacciatore," he says. His words are empty and cold, and the way that his voice vibrates in his chest reminds her of the gentle hum of a machine.
He's like machinery... cold, rumbling, emotionless. Driven by duty and nothing else.
Jelena grasps his hand as firm as she can, refusing to acknowledge the fact that her palm is nearly completely swallowed by his own. She's startled at the heat that envelops her hand, expecting his skin to be as cold as his voice.
The 25 year old woman then withdraws and narrows her eyes at him. "Are you going to answer my question, Lucan?"
He chuckles emptily, the vibration of the sound rumbling in his chest. Jelena finds herself swallowing thickly as he continues. "Do you want to know the reason why you're to be engaged to me, Ms. Elias?" His lips flicker up into a dangerous smirk before passiveness overtakes his expression.
"I'd rather be called Jelena." Her response is instant. Then, as an afterthought, "And yes, I would like to know."
"Well then, Jelena," He corrects himself. His Italian accent rears its head as the name rolls off his tongue, and she forces herself to tear her gaze away from his intense stare. When the businessman continues speaking, she can feel his heated attention rolling over her body. If her skin were any lighter, her face would be red. "My grandfather- the current owner of Cacci Consolidated- left me this company and a rather large fortune in his will. But in order for me to actually obtain that money, I have to married- or at least engaged."
