Blackmailing Aria [Book 1 of the Stavros Series]

8

I stare at my reflection, hardly believing that it's a mirrored image of me.
I've never worn such a dress, and I didn't think I would be wearing one to a charity ball, with a billionaire on my arm.
"You've been staring at the mirror for ten minutes, do you need help?" A stylist that Xander hired asks. She's a kind lady, fairly young, but she makes amazing decisions. I'm proof of one.
I swallow my fears. "Will you please bring Xander in here?"
She leaves me alone with my thoughts and my reflection. This isn't me.
I'm a girl from Texas, who grew up in animal feces of all kinds. I do not wear dresses that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. This piece of fabric costs more than my tuition.
By the time Xander finally trails into the room, I'm about to lose my mind.
I look at him in the reflection of the mirror, for the first time not focusing on my own figure. He's adorned in a black tuxedo, with a black shirt. It looks so good with his dark hair and tan skin.
"Wow," he gasps, his eyes as wide as saucers. 
That one word has my heart beating rapidly for an entirely different reason other than panic. I bite my lip, briefly forgetting about the plum colored lipstick that is painted upon me.
I watch as Xander's eyes follow the path of the trail of my dark green dress, up towards my hips, lingering there for a bit, then up my exposed back and finally to my eyes in the reflection of the mirror.
Our eyes meet and dare not to move. Slowly he creeps forward, until his chest is nearly touching my back.
"Now how am I supposed to keep my hands off of you tonight when you look like this?" His voice is deep and rich, making me close my eyes in pleasure. It's his bedroom voice, which four years ago brought such amazing music to my ears. "You're going to be the most stunning woman there."
My eyes flutter open, meeting his with the same desireable stare he's giving me. "I can hardly move in this dress. I'm afraid to break it." In my mind I thought my voice would come out strong, hard, but instead it was merely a soft whisper.
Xander reaches out to brush his fingers against the bare of my back. He seems entranced as his fingers circle softly on my skin. Finally, he says, "It only needs to last one night. Then you can tear it off, or I can."
His eyes meet mine once again in the mirror. They're dark with desire and something else . . . need.
We're supposed to be a symbolized couple for the charity event. Xander picked Life for me,  and Death for him, hence the green dress and dark suit. Although, I'm starting to wonder if the symbols stands for something else. Like, he will be the death of my life.
The only question is, even though he's dangerous, how am I supposed to resist him?
...
We arrive to the charity ball thirty minutes later. We get behind the long line of cars that are dropping guests off at the top of a hill.
Xander must sense that I'm nervous because he reaches over and grabs my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. I offer him a gracious smile, but then he takes me by surprise and leans over to gently kiss my cheek.
After he pulls away I look at him shocked, although I shouldn't be. Tonight I'm his date, and there's no harm in kissing cheeks.
"Have you called your grandparents to hear the good news?" He asks, referring to his buying my family's farm. He leans over to pull out a wrapped up box from the compartment to his right.
I shake my head, taking a deep breath. "Honestly, I'm too scared to talk to them."
"Well I don't want you to worry about it tonight." He places the box in my lap, leaving his hand lingering on my thigh. I try not to care. "I want you to have fun tonight."
I wait for his nod of approval before carefully unfolding the box. I stare memorized at the mask that Xander and I picked out. It's still as beautiful as the first time I saw it.
"You can't go to a masquerade ball without a mask," he chuckles. He gently grabs the gold mask, detailed with small flowers from my lap. He offers me a dazzling grin before placing it upon my face, clasping the hooks behind my ears.
"There," he whispers, pulling away. "Perfect."
"Where's your mask?"
He pulls out another box from the compartment, quickly opening it while the car speeds forward. It's our turn. Xander puts on his own mask, one that matches his dark outfit, but also my own mask. It's a gold skull, that takes up the upper half of his face.
He looks devilishly handsome in it.
We pull up to the curb and cameras are already flashing, waiting for our entrance. In a second, the door is open and Xander is stepping outside. He takes a second to face the cameras, letting them get their picture of him while I try to calm my nerves in the car.
I don't have much of a chance to do so before Xander reaches out his hand, waiting for me to take it. I clench my eyes and say a little prayer, before intertwining my fingers in his.
I'm met with flashes of lights as cameras click from every direction.
"Over here Miss!"
"What are you wearing?"
"Who are you?"
They all ask, but Xander pays them no mind, so I take it that I shouldn't either. He walks me up the pathway to the giant double doors that are opened for us. Men in suits and ear pieces dangling down their necks are waiting for us on the other side. An older woman stands with them, adorned in a long black dress. She has a tablet in her hands as she steps up to greet us.
"Good evening, may I get your-"
"Xander Stavros and his date," Xander mutters, looking bored as his focus is on the music trailing down the hall. I softly jab him in the stomach with my elbow, earning a glare from him. He offers me his own.
"It's a pleasure to have you here sir," the woman sputtered in embarrassment. Behind my mask I send a deathly glare to Xander. I can't understand how he is so sweet to me, but rude to everyone else. "Someone will escort you to the ballroom."
"There's no need," he retorted. "I can see it from here."
Much to my dismay, Xander pulls me along the grand hallway to the ballroom at the end, leaving the body guards behind. After a couple steps I yank my hand from his, making him stop and stare at me. I don't give him a chance to say anything. Instead, I keep walking, my heels slapping against the marble floor.
I want to enjoy the absolute beauty of the decoration around me, but I'm too focused on being annoyed with Xander.
He catches up to me just in time for us to arrive at the double doors of the ballroom. I gasp once I see what's in store for me.
It's as if I'm in a fairy tale, with princesses and princes chatting away on the floor before me. We stand at the top of a grand staircase, looking down at the hundred or so people dressed in the finest of clothes. Jewelry among women's necks and wrists sparkle in the light, catching my eye.
"Wow," I gasp, once I see the huge chandelier hanging above them all. I barely notice Xander come to my side, his arm snaking it's way around my waist.
By the time I finish gazing at all the fairy tale like decorations, I finally look down at the crowd again. That's when I meet hundreds of pairs of eyes looking right at me.
Xander leans over to whisper in my ear. "I told you that you would be the most stunning woman here."
I find comfort in his touch as we descend the staircase, one step at a time. I can't help but panic as I look over the eyes hidden behind masks that are glued to me. I notice people murmuring into each other's ears, clearly whispering about me.
We finally reach the bottom of the steps and I want nothing more than to run back up them and never come down.
I'm not made for this.
Xander ignores the stares, but I notice the hint of a smile on his lips. He leads us through the crowd which parts like the Red Sea. We finally reach a bar and thank god, because I need some alcohol to ease my nerves.
The bartender hands Xander two glasses of champagne, which I steal from him greedily. I gulp down a couple sips before I realize that some people are still staring, mostly women. I cough as I try to regain my composure with the audience looking at me.
I catch the smile upon Xander's lips and glare at him in return. "What's so funny?"
His smile widens, showing his perfect teeth. As a billionaire it must be easy for him to keep his teeth so white. "I'm just so glad that I have the woman that makes everyone stop and stare."
I roll my eyes, taking another sip. "It's not me, it's the dress and mask." I make eye contact with the bartender, motioning him for another glass. I'm already nearly down with mine.
He shakes his head. "No, it's who's wearing them."
I hope the mask will cover my pink cheeks.
"I should go make my rounds and say hello to a few people, so they don't come over here and hound us both. Stay here please," Xander asks nicely. I want to spite him for how he treated the woman at the front, and say no, but I'm aware of the many eyes still attached to me.
I wave my hand through the air as another glass of champagne is placed in front of me. "Stay at the bar? I'm more than okay with that."
Xander pauses before leaning over and kissing my cheek. In my ear he whispers, "Be careful. These people are like snakes."
He leaves me on that note, disappearing into the crowd. I take the time to let my eyes wander over the people in masks, while finishing my first glass. I notice a couple pair of eyes belonging to men keep glancing towards me. I shift awkwardly under their stare, hoping to disappear. It only worsens as I see the multitudes of women staring at me. Even though their faces are mostly covered, I can tell that they are glaring at me.
Xander must be a favorite with the ladies.
With a bitter taste on my tongue, and my heart, I face the bar again and grab the glass of untouched champagne. The bartender stands before me, wiping down a crystal glass.
I lean over the counter to him and say, "When I finish this glass, wait another five minutes before making me a stronger drink."
He chuckles under his breath and nods in agreement.
A couple minutes pass in awkward silence as he continues to wipe an already clean glass and I continue to sip on the champagne. I really want to gulp it down, but I don't want to make a bad first impression in front of these people. It will all lead back to Xander.
"This must be your first time at one of these things," the bartender speaks up, surprising me. His voice isn't a rich italian one that I've gotten used to hearing. Instead, it's a british one, reminding me of my days in highschool when I dreamed of dating a guy with such an accent. Me and every other girl.
"How did you know?"
He tilts his head, focusing on the glass in his hands. "The only people who hang around the bar are first timers, and people who have been doing this for decades. You're too pretty to have been doing this for that long."
I blush at the compliment. "Why thank you. I take it you've been doing this for a while?"
"What," he laughs, looking around. "Bartending a bunch of pretentious rich people?"
I gasp and look around, trying to see if anyone heard him.
He laughs again, setting the glass down. "I've been doing it since I was twenty years old. I'm twenty nine now."
"You enjoy it that much," I ask shocked. I don't think I would enjoy serving men like Xander for almost ten years.
"God no," he cackled, his face in the form of disbelief. "I only do it because it pays well." He leans over the counter, his eyes looking around first before looking into mine. Softly he says, "Can you keep a secret?"
I giggle, beginning to feel the affects of drinking the champagne so quickly. "I've been keeping a huge secret from every single person I know for four years. You bet I can."
He smiles mischievously. "Well, I want to open up my own bar in a couple years once I get fired from this place."
I look at him in shock. "Fired? You already know you're going to get fired?"
"Another secret," he whispers, leaning closer. I lean in a little bit to hear him better. "They only hire good looking people here, so that the guests will want to sleep with us and keep coming to these things."
"No," I gasp. "That's-"
"What rich people do," he finishes. He stands up straight and walks to the other end of the bar where a guest waits. It's a middle aged woman, her hair nearly turning gray and wrinkles beginning to show on her face. I watch in amazement as she giggles at whatever the bartender says, then sneakily slides a plastic card to him across the counter.
She disappears into the crowd, no drink in hand. The bartender busies himself with making a drink as I'm left to analyze this situation. It bugs me more than it should.
Everything that has happened to me so far tonight just proves to me that I really don't belong with these people; with Xander.
That thought pulls at my heart.
The bartender comes to my aid, placing a pink drink in front of me. "It has vodka in it, but not a lot. It's not smart move to get too drunk at these things."
"Being drunk is the only way I can survive most situations I'm afraid," I admit, before taking a sip. It's actually pretty good, making me take another sip.
"Well if being drunk is what you want," the bartender says, "then I get replaced in an hour. I can steal a bottle of whiskey from here and we can drink out back. This place has a beautiful view of the city."
"She's going to have to refuse that offer," says a familiar voice.
I look over to see Xander at my side, his face contorted into anger. His mask is gone now, hanging by his side in his hand.
The bartender opens his mouth to respond, but Xander beats him too it. "She's my girlfriend," Xander seethes. "Not one of your fucking jobs." I gasp, not quite believing the hatred leaking from him. "I'll send Mr. Venitia over here, tell him you're open for business."
Before I can take control of the situation, Xander grabs me by the elbow and drags me away. I look over my shoulder at the bartender who looks tragically embarrassed.
I try to yank my elbow from Xander's grasp, but he won't let me go. I begin to thrash in his hold as we reach a door, which he pushes us through. We find ourselves in another grand hallway which is empty.
"Let go of me," I shout as soon as the door closes behind us. 
Xander does as I say, then seems to quickly regret it because my palm connects with his cheek. His hand reaches up to hold his face, while he looks at me in surprise. I jab a finger in his face, making him take a step back.
"If you ever touch me like that again," I seethe, "I will make sure you can never use your pathetic hands again."
Xander looks at me in utter shock, his shoulders slouching in defeat. Slowly, I watch as his eyes fill with despair.
"You wonder why I'm not giving into you," I continue, my voice raising with each word. "It's because of that!" I gesture towards the door where we came through. "You're such an amazing guy with me, but terrible with everyone else! Why would I want to be with someone who treats people that way?"
"He was trying to get you into bed," he argues, waving his hands through the air as his voice raises too.
"We were talking," I contort. "And why does that matter anyways? We're not dating. This is all just blackmail remember?"
He loses the fight in him, and lets his hands drop into his pockets. His head bows towards the ground. "Because I love you," he says under his breath. "I've been in love with you for four years and I'll love you for an eternity more."
I can hardly breathe. My heart ceases to beat.
Those are the words that I've dreamed about him saying for years. I suppose that's why I pull off my mask and step towards him, connecting my lips with his. He stands stock still, as if he can't believe this is happening. I can't believe it either. I slowly pull away, meeting my eyes with his.
His reaction surprises me. He looks as if I just told him that I never want to see him again.
"Xander," I whisper.
He shakes his head. "I can't do this," he murmurs. "I can't be with someone who kisses me out of pity. I don't want you to pity me, I want you to love me!" It's clear in his voice that he's begging me. But he doesn't have too.
I reach up and place my hand on his cheek. "I do Xander. I do love you. I never stopped."