Chapter 92: Chapter 92

- I get it – Daniel smiles, and I need to turn around to face him, just to make sure his smile is really that white and straight – But I want to know why he was trying to get my attention.

We sit on the bar stools, which gives me time to think of a good excuse.

- You looked at me first.

- Bingo! – he drinks the shot of tequila.

"Actually…" I whisper. It's bar talk, and it'll die as soon as we leave - I was disappointed in a man, and I wanted to prove to myself that I didn't need his time and attention.

- It's a secret ? Daniel asks. I confirm with a nod - So can I reveal another one?

- To chase.

- I am not gay.

His words hang in the air as I try to absorb them. I frown.

- Because he lied?

- You wouldn't sit with me if you thought I wanted something more.

Truth.

- And you want?

- I can live well with tequila.

I swallow the shot of tequila that Daniel ordered me. To men, who are never, never sincere!

I could stand, considering this conversation had already started with a lie. However, my next chance to talk to someone will be tomorrow morning when Gabe arrives to make breakfast. In this case, I take advantage of the liar with the beautiful smile.

We talk pointlessly about nothing in particular for a while, while the Persada gets even busier. Meanwhile, we drink a few shots and the night progresses. At one point, Daniel moves his seat closer to mine as we struggle to hear each other because of the rising noise. He's easy to talk to, and I know that if we were somewhere else, I'd welcome his occasional attempts to flirt with me. I would smile at your cheap pickup lines.

I swap the tequila for water when a slow buzzing starts to come through my ears. I don't want to pass out.

- And he left with the baby – said Neil between two laughs – But how could he breastfeed?

I smile, throwing my head back. My body vibrates with each of your stories. When I turn to face Daniel, ready to ask for the next joke, the hubbub on the stairs to the second floor catches my eye. I look up, then stifle a sigh when my eyes meet LeBlanc's.

We look at each other for a moment, then I see her eyes narrow on Daniel and the angle of her body tilt to hear me above the noise.

For Daniel's safety, I'm stepping away.

When LeBlanc passes, people make room. They mumble something to each other, glancing sideways at her. Some get out of the way before it even arrives. But despite the crowd around him, his eyes are on mine. And despite the distance, I see his jaw clench.

What if I lured Daniel and ran away?

I turn to face Daniel, ready to give a brief overview of how we can escape down the fire escape. When I look up at his face, he shakes his head.

- Let me guess - he whispers - Did he come looking for you?

- So so.

I hope not.

I look at the stairs again. LeBlanc walked down the stairs slowly because he knows no one will stop him from getting to me. And now people are starting to look at me, because he's fucking looking at me!

'You have to get out of…' I turn to Daniel, but his expression silences me.

His eyes are wide open and all the blood has flowed from his face. Daniel takes a deep breath, and when he lets it out, his lips quiver.

- Is that the guy? – His voice is low, with a mixture of fear and disbelief, so much so that I have to read the words on his lips – Fucking LeBlanc?

ANGELIC...

Oh my God.

To hell with all the bad decisions.

I stand up, realizing that we don't have time to run away now. I stop in front of Daniel because I don't think LeBlanc is going to pass me. At least, I hope not.

"It's okay," I said. Daniel sniffles behind me. And the closer Aaron gets, the more I wonder if everything is okay.

I'm sure it's the tequila shots under my skin, buzzing through my system, but the thought sends me an unexpected chill, regardless of the events of the past three days.

Something about his face, other than his anger, pulls me deep inside. It's that look. The one who says he's had enough of putting up with my graces. It means he's going to walk into this room, pick me up, throw me over his shoulder and take me somewhere to do whatever he wants with me.

In the few seconds before LeBlanc catches up to me, I allow myself to stare at his muscles under the tight fabric of his shirt. He is not wearing a tie, nor his jacket. I clench my thighs because alcohol and adrenaline have mixed inside me. I'm not one to like possessive men, but damn this man knows how to make a woman want him like no other.

The last person steps aside, then LeBlanc stops in front of me. If I wasn't there, I'm afraid he'd crush Daniel like a bulldozer. His eyes are dark and they hold me in place.

- What are you trying to do? - he asks. His low voice indicates that he will not shout to overcome the sound.

But despite the noise, I hear Daniel's gasping breath.

- I do not know what you're talking about.

I'm ready for his hand since my arm is within reach, so I pull it out before he can grab it. We looked at each other, both hot for the same reasons; the jealousy that we will never admit.

- I don't like being played with, Donneli.

Donelli.

- You like games when you play with me.

“Yes,” he replies shamelessly. LeBlanc leans forward, his face inches from mine. Proximity brings with it the scent of musk, the same as in me - Why don't you tell your little toy he can run now?

I know I've been drinking, so I'm more daring and awkward than usual. In turn, this is LeBlanc's natural state. We should stop this little power game. However, I feel my rational side slipped out of me as soon as I returned your call earlier and heard that female voice.

"It's a good time for me to go, actually," Daniel mutters behind me.

- Stay! - I order by pointing to him. My surprised voice draws even more attention.

- What do you think you are doing? – asks LeBlanc. I turn to him.

- Imitate your example.

- What would that be? - He frowns, and this is the first indication that he cares about something other than his own posture.

Our chests rise and fall with our rages and heavy breaths as we both clench our jaws in frustration.

- Exercise my right to come and go, meet new people – I shrug my shoulders.

- And how was it ? - A slight smile crosses his lips, and we know that he speaks only of pride and arrogance.

" I do not know. I hold Daniel's hand behind me. LeBlanc doesn't stare at my hand, but I know he noticed the gesture. It wouldn't be him if he hadn't noticed – Ask me tomorrow morning.

I shouldn't involve Daniel anymore. It's extremely selfish of me to use it in this, but I'm crazy – drunk, angry, resentful.

I walk past LeBlanc, still holding Daniel's hand, who is following me, maybe because I don't want to be alone with Aaron.

- Don't turn your back on me - warns LeBlanc. I feel Daniel's hand reach out, but I don't stop walking.

- Sorry. I didn't know only you could do this – I scream over the music.

In a short time, so much is happening that it feels like time has stood still. Daniel lets go of my hand, but not of his own free will. He is pulled back. In that split second, I blame myself for involving Daniel in something that was clearly going to end badly. I turn around in time to catch his desperate gaze.

LeBlanc pushes Daniel against the counter. They exchange a few words, however, the cries around me prevent me from hearing. Daniel gets punched because he probably didn't say the right thing.

LeBlanc rocks Daniel saying something else. Just then, one of Persada's security guards approaches. The crowd starts to push me away, because they want to be in the front row of the show. Security grabs LeBlanc's arm and pulls him away from Daniel, and only then is the man free.

Aaron looks around, looking for me. When his eyes find me, he pulls his arm out of the security guard's reach, then rushes over to me. People can't get out of his way in time, so he pushes them.

To hell with all the bad decisions.

In an instant, I am standing in front of him. The next moment, I'm on his shoulder, head down. LeBlanc holds my legs so I can't struggle as he carries me up the stairs.

I could scream and struggle, but honestly, would that do any good?

He walks up the steps, and even though I see the world upside down, I can feel the eyes on me as we become the center of attention. I see Daniel sitting on one of the bar stools, and someone is wiping the bloody corner of his mouth with a tissue.

Upon reaching the second floor, LeBlanc doesn't stop at one of the booths - like I thought. He walks down a hallway, passing two security guards at the entrance.

The lighting in this part of the Persada is reddish, like I imagine it would be in a brothel. LeBlanc heads for the last door, then unlocks it with the key he takes out of his pocket. When we walk into the room, he pulls me back to the floor, and the sudden movement makes my stomach turn.

I pull away from him, pushing against his chest and staggering back.

I think I'm a little dizzy.

"Don't think about starting a fight with me," I said.

He stays silent, and that annoys me. It'll make me scream hysterically, and then I'll lose my mind.

- What is that? – I look around me – Your private room?

I raise my eyebrows, however, his silence reigns. He crosses his arms, leans against the door frame and looks at me. Right now I hate him so much that I'm grateful I don't have a gun handy.

- I'll assume - I'll keep going - Because you come to this club, and you bring your victims into this room while I'm locked in your apartment - the more I think about it, the angrier I get. And he doesn't deny – You don't want me to be like you – near me. His eyes follow me every step of the way – He doesn't want me to meet other people, get close to them, fuck with them. But guess what, I want it!

I run my hands through my hair. What's the use of feeling like I'm his, if he's not mine?

- Tell me what you're doing – I ask – Make me hate you even more! – My voice rises – Tell me how many times you came into this room, with how many women. Tell me what you do with it, what you want to do with it while keeping me a fucking virgin.

I remain unmoved, however, I hear his panting. LeBlanc is static, like a tiger seconds before attacking its prey. His eyes eventually fall on my legs and face like we're having the sexiest conversation ever.

- I like this dress – after a century of silence, he said.

I push all the air out of my lungs, as if that would drive my anger out.

Idiot.

- Sei un figlio di puttana – I whisper, in Italian, because it's the only description in the world that seems plausible to me at the moment.

LeBlanc sits up, walks away from the door. I take a step back, because I don't want – and I don't want – to give in. It doesn't matter what chemistry we have or how our bodies are drawn to each other. It's not real. We are not real. We're not together, and I won't let myself think for a second that we are.

- You were looking in the wrong place - his low voice vibrates through my body, forcing me to let my guard down. It goes even further.

- By which? - whisper.

- By me.

Jesus. How arrogant he is.

- I hate you – I press my finger against his chest – I hate the way you put the world below you, like no one else matters. I just hate you.

LeBlanc looks at me. His hand wraps around mine, pulling it away from his chest. And then, before I can even figure out what he's doing, his mouth collides with mine. It takes me a moment to react, and I'm so irritated, so mad at him, that I push against his chest. However, he doesn't back down, he just squeezes my wrists behind me.

I desperately try to deny the desire that is starting to seep through the fog of anger in my brain. I try to dismiss the pain deepening between my thighs, the taste of his tongue merging with mine. I try to fight my own moans because I don't want to like the taste of his, his chest as he grinds against me, our breaths becoming one.

Fury turns to desire. Pain expels into desire. Absence feeds our fervor. Your keys block all rationality. A soft moan passes through my throat as his mouth continues to seduce and torment every point of my tongue. And at that moment, I find myself kissing him back.