Chapter 6 :

Ashley's POV:

Ever since I was a child, there was only one place in this house that would be able to give me the serenity I craved for. The gazebo. So, every now and then I would sneak into the gazebo which was located at one, quiet corner of the back lawn.

Reaching the gazebo, I finally took a deep breath, closed my eyes tightly, and opened my mouth widely. A shrieking sound escaped me as I screamed at the top of my lungs. Jerking my head back towards the party area, I howled loudly, "Fucking insane people and their bloody desperation to get married."

I put the lid of the bottle between my teeth and tore the cap away. Sticking the rim to my lips, I took a long swig right out of the bottle and poured out the rest of my rage into words as I spit, "I can't believe these match-making parties are still happening in the 21st century. Is it too hard for people to understand that nothing could be more humiliating and pathetic than to dress up foolishly and act nicely in front of a bunch of people who come to inspect you and evaluate whether you can be a good wife or not?"

I screamed once again and then suddenly, my mouth clamped shut when I heard in a deep, gravel voice, "Can you shut the fuck up?" I jolted around at the sound coated with annoyance. I was pretty sure the voice came from the gazebo, so I climbed the two stairs and entered it.

There, I saw a man lying on the bench. He was tall, so tall that his legs were dangling down the bench. His wide shoulders and bulky body were too much for the poor, creaking bench. His coat was resting beside him and his black shirt was hugging his muscular body tightly. I couldn't help noticing the muscles bulging from underneath. His sleeves were up to his elbows and his arms had my eyes rolling back in my skull. They were tight with muscles and God, they were so veiny.

His other arm, which was draped over his eyes was equally mouth-watering. On the inside of his forearm, I spotted a tattoo. Narrowing my eyes, I took a better look. The Ace of Spades was inked into his arm. Recalling my knowledge of poker cards, I remembered that the Ace of Spades was the highest-ranking card in the deck and it symbolizes power and success. Flames were surrounding the sign of ace inside the card. At the bottom, in bold letters, was written, ONE LIFE. ONE CHANCE.

He cleared his throat and I realized how shamelessly I was gawking at him. After a beat, he opened his mouth again, "And isn't it too late to voice your thoughts? You should have done that while you were still at the party."

This man, with a dark aura, was talking to me but never even bothered to take away his hand from his face and acknowledge my presence. He had the audacity to make me feel like I disturbed his sleep in my own house. Great.

I rolled my eyes and questioned him, "What are you doing here? Party is that way?"

In one swift motion, he stood up, and suddenly his broad frame was filling all the place. I was pretty much 5 feet 7 inches tall but the way he was towering over me, I could bet he wouldn't be less than 6 feet 2 inches.

Without bothering my question, he fixed his gaze right onto my eyes and said in a voice laced with mocking, "Or are you a coward to own your opinion in front of everyone?"

His blue eyes that were piercing through mine were so deep and intense. Intense enough to make me feel like my knees were jelly. But somehow, I found the force to keep standing and raised my chin, "I don't think how any of that is your business. Anyways, go away to the party and do what you have come here for."

He raised his eyebrow and a lock of hair fell across his forehead. God, why the temperature inside the gazebo was so sizzling? My fingers were itching to readjust the lock back to its place. Once again, he used his deep pit voice, "And what exactly is that?"

I tilted my head slightly to the left and formed a malicious smile, "Bidding on some beautiful lady to wife her up?"

Lowering his head, he chuckled evilly. The voice sent a chill down my spine. This man was...dangerous. Vicious was written across his forehead but today, I was nothing but a rebel. I took one step closer to him and said with sarcasm, "Or is there no one to meet your high standards?"

He raised his head and now his eyes were icy cold. A devilish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he gritted, "One, I don't need these fucking low-grade parties to find a wife. Second, of course, no one here is of my standard." At that, he looked me up and down in disgust like he was talking about me. Narrowing his eyes a bit, he continued, "Doesn't that explain my reason for being here instead of drooling over a girl like you at that shitty party?" He tilted his neck to the side and laughed bitterly. Then...right then and there, the words stuck in my throat.

Tattoo...there was a tattoo covering the side of his neck. And it wasn't any tattoo. It was the tattoo of The Phoenix. The one that I saw earlier in the day. What the fuck?

My nostrils flared at the memory of how cruelly he refused to help me and practically dragged me out of his damn car. And once again, his rudeness and attitude had set me on fire. Crossing my arms across my chest, I asked him sternly, "And what exactly do you mean by girls like me?"

Taking a step back, he made a show of tapping his chin as if deep in thought, "Girls that are simply fake? Glittery dresses and makeup have never been up to my sleeves, you know." Contorting his lips in yet another mocking smirk, he hurled another insult at me, "Oh, and of course, the girls who are spoiled by their daddies and think that the world dances around their little finger?"

After throwing daggers wrapped around his words, he winked at me. The bastard had the audacity to say such vile things and then wink at me. His cold words stabbed straight into my heart. That's what these people think of me? Do they really think that I was one of those children who was dear to everyone? Only if he had known that my own mother despises me and my father treats me as nothing more than a possession. With his piercing, hurtful words still hanging in the air, he grabbed his jacket, shook his head, and chuckled bitterly at me like I was some hopeless case.

And then, he passed around me and climbed down the gazebo stairs because he was done insulting me. Tears prickled at the end of my eyes but I would be damned to shed even one in front of this devil.

Whether it was alcohol or the anger of my failure at running away from the house, it resulted in the rage building inside me.

He had merely taken two steps when I said in an equally malicious voice, "And what exactly is your standard?" I turned around and he was already facing me. He opened his mouth to answer in that cheap sarcastic way of his. But I beat him to that and said as calmly as I could, "In fact, who exactly are you? Other than being a spoiled kid of some richie rich daddy who is desperate to take over his dad's business, what else is your identity?"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and the veins running up his arms didn't go unnoticed by me. But I didn't allow that to have even a tiny effect on me. I started moving down the steps while he answered in a proud tone, "Ever heard of Walker Automobiles and Space Origins?" A mocking smirk and then, "Ah, how could you? All these business talks are not for those thick skulls who know about nothing other than beauty products."

With slow strides, I reached him lazily and stopped in front of him. The man was towering over me, his presence demanding all the dominance but I didn't let that get into my head. Boring my eyes right into his, I replied, "Walker Automobiles and Space origins? That multi-billionaire, well-known company that has been manufacturing and distributing automobiles ever since 1972. Recently, the company launched the spare parts of spaceships and rockets and decided to spread their chains out of Europe, right?"

I saw closely as his eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened at my response. Never in the million years would he have thought that I could be the bearer of such information. I enjoyed the sight but I had something else on my mind.

Taking another step closer, I asked in a low and mocking voice, "But how is that YOUR identity? As far as I know, the company was founded by your father, and he is the one who has the most shares." I chuckled lowly, "Just as I said, a spoiled kid of a rich dad."

I saw his nostrils flared and his teeth ground together. I was only a mere inches away from him. I could hear his fast breathing due to rage swirling inside him. Even though it felt like entering the devil's den, I still looked into his eyes where the fire was igniting and said disgustingly "Look who is talking about standards here. A person with no goals and no struggles. A puppet of his rich daddy. You are no one, you have no identity. You are just like all those bastards roaming around the party who are desperate enough to get in the good graces of their fathers, only so they can take over their businesses and bag a pretty wife as soon as possible. You are no different."

Words literally poured out of my mouth without a pause. With that, I turned around but suddenly gasped when I felt a rough hand clasping around my upper arm. With a harsh jerk, I twirled around and pressed against his hard body. Placing my palms on his chest, I pushed him away but the man didn't even stumble, if anything, he tightened his hold and wrapped his other arm around my waist to keep me in place. Now, I was totally caged by his body.

Both of us were panting hard with anger, our breaths mingling together and rage flooding out of our ears. He bared his teeth and said in a ruthless, demonic voice, "What do you even know about me to make such assumptions?"

It was it. I yelled at him, "And who the hell are you to judge ME? Why do you think that you know me well enough to make such assumptions."

At that, his hold loosened a bit and I laughed bitterly at his face, "If you want something from someone then you better provide them the same." I didn't wait for his reply. Now that his hold was not much tightened, I pushed my hands against his chest harder. He let go instantly. Both of us knew that I was no match for his strength but he still let me go.

I marched towards the party without glancing back even once. And he did not follow me.

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