The Billionaire Is An Ice Queen

| 04 | retrouvailles

He then feigns a look of hurt "Ouch, is that any way to greet your ex?"

I grace him with an unblinking stare even as he squints his eyes and slightly tilts his head to assess me almost as if he's trying to categorize me with a label.

Before I can speak, his next words manage to infuriate me, "But then again what more can I expect from a cold hearted bitch?"

Every second feels like a ticking time bomb and if the next word that comes out of his mouth offends me, I won't be able to restrain myself any longer.

Therefore, I still maintain my calm and unaffected composure before measuring his calculative gaze, "Is that all you can come up with? Please, such playground insults can only have a non-existent effect on me. And while we're at it. . ."

I pause to march over to the glass door but not before disposing the cup on my desk.

Seconds later, I swing the office door open before anchoring my livid gaze to his.

"Why don't you get the hell out of my office." I snarl while gesturing to the exit.

He stares at me hard as he doesn't say a word.

If he's trying to burn me with his gaze, he's succeeding alright but I can't let him know how much of an effect his presence has on my emotions. Hence, I mask my inner feelings as I quirk a challenging brow, daring him to try me.

Ludovic adjusts the bow tie of his black tuxedo all while his gaze never leaves mine.

He chuckles sardonically before something else manages to captivate his attention.

Upon following his gaze, it occurs to me I made no attempt to dispose the Forbes magazine from the desk into the drawer earlier. As Ludovic's eyes are fixated on the front cover, he saunters towards the office desk before grabbing a hold of the booklet.

He does a quick flipping through the pages with his thumb as he wears a deadpan expression.

Peeved, I begin to ask myself if he'll ever get the hint his presence is unwanted.

"Be a ruler, never a follower?" Ludovic reads the words of my quote displayed on the front cover, in a tone combination of puzzlement and mockery, "Even my four year old cousin can come up with a better statement than that."

My blood boils as I stomp towards him as the sound of the contact between my heels and the wooden floor increases.

I end up snatching the booklet from his hands before hurling it onto the bureau.

Callous, I don't quaver the slightest even when he anchors his cold glare on me.

"It's been what. . ." I trail off in an incensed tone, ". . .six years and all you can do is bash me at every chance you get just like you did on . . ." I fail to finish my sentence as the poignant memories all but come flashing back without warning.

I don't dare allow the unshed tears in my eyes to make their presence known and swivel around to approach the window once again.

"On what?" He urges on heatedly.

Upon scrunching my brows, I begin to contemplate why he's purposely choosing to act clueless when he clearly knows what he did.

"Don't pretend like you don't know what I'm referring to Ludovic," I snarl in disdain as I continue to observe the city lights, "I got the message you wrote on that letter a year ago loud and clear."

Silence reigns.

Expecting an apology, nothing can prepare me for what he says next, "I forgot to add delusional to the list of personalities you possess."