Chapter 7 A Glimpse of Luxury

Darlene

"Why are you late?" He snapped at me as soon as I sat on the passenger seat of his crisp black Bentley.

"Oh, please!" I snapped back. Although I had never entered such a luxury car, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of mocking me. Its interior was stunning, a mix of brown and black leather with a strong musk smell. I had just gotten into his space, and he was already irritating me.

"I just asked you a question, young lady. Don't you think you owe me an answer?"

"Just shut up already, do you enjoy annoying me?"

He didn't seem really pleased with my reply, and just sat across staring.

"What? I thought we were late by a second age? Aren't we late anymore?"

He tilted his head to the side and gave me a silent gaze, as though he was trying to understand what had just transpired. Not like I was in the mood for any drama, so I crossed my arms and looked straight.

He leaned in slowly, his eyes not leaving mine. I blinked, unsure, confused. What was he doing? The air felt thick with something unspoken, and for a second, the world outside the Bentley faded into a dull blur. My breath caught in my throat.

Before I could even muster a word, he was already in my space. Too close. The scent of musk that emanated from the car and his strong cologne wrapped around me. My eyes, entirely betraying me, flicked down to his lips, then back up again. My heart, stupid thing, thudded louder, faster. This man was fine, I couldn't even hide it.

And just like that...

Click.

The seatbelt slid into place around me, and he leaned back into his seat with infuriating calmness, grabbing the steering wheel firmly. A sly smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, amused, smug.

I blinked again, stunned. Heat rushed to my face. I couldn't believe I was sweating inside such a functional air condition.

"What... what was that for?" I stammered, cursing myself for sounding breathless.

His gaze didn't waver, but the smile only deepened.

"For your safety," he said simply, like he hadn't just sent my pulse into a spiral.

I turned away, facing the windshield, biting the inside of my cheek. Once I composed myself, I sought for clarity. What was that stunt he tried to pull on me? I stayed quiet any longer, I might combust.

"You could've just told me to put on the belt, you know. Why did you have to do it yourself? Were you trying to be in my space?" I muttered.

"Oh, please! Don't think so highly of yourself. You asked me to shut up. Didn't you?"

I scowled, even more annoyed by the fact that I couldn't think of a clever comeback.

Jerk. For a second, I thought he was trying to kiss me, I wasn't even sure the reason for my annoyance, whether because he was irritating me or because he didn't kiss me as I thought he would.

"So, where are we going? You never told me"

"You'll know soon enough."

Such a nitwit, I thought, rolling my eye again. I'm sure he wouldn't die if he just gave me a proper reply.

The ride was quiet. I didn't even bother to push for more conversation, I knew he would only annoy me further, mostly because my mind was elsewhere. A tangled mess of nerves and half-formed lies. I hadn't told my parents about the marriage contract. I couldn't. Telling them I was suddenly getting married would mean I'd have to explain that I'd been seeing someone, seriously seeing someone, and I'd have to fabricate dates, fake milestones, conjure a convincing backstory. The truth was, no one knew. No friends. No family. Just me and him. And this secret.

But I told myself, over and over again, that it was for the greater good. This choice, however impulsive or crazy it seemed, would eventually make sense. It had to.

I snapped out of my spiraling thoughts when the car came to a halt. Blinking, I glanced around. It was... a garage? A private one, by the look of it. I hadn't even noticed when we turned off the main road.

He was already out of the car when he opened my door. I stared at him for a second before stepping out.

"Wow," I said slowly. "Chivalry? From you? This is suspicious."

He didn't so much as blink. "Don't get used to it."

"Trust me, I won't," I muttered, brushing past him.

He led the way without another word, and I followed him into the building. We stepped into a private elevator, of course, and I watched him press the top floor button without a hint of modesty.

"Do you live here?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Yes."

That was all he said. Just 'yes.' No elaboration, no explanation, not even a smug smirk. I sighed inwardly. Such a strange man.

The elevator doors opened into a space that made me stop breathing for a second.

It was a penthouse. A gorgeous one. All floor-to-ceiling glass, warm lighting, tastefully modern furnishings. The kind of place that felt like it belonged in a magazine. And somehow, it smelled faintly of fresh linen and something vaguely citrusy.

"Wow..." I couldn't stop the word from slipping out.

And then, before I could absorb it all, she walked in.

It was Rosie.

Dressed in a soft blue dress, hair tied up in a high bun, her smile was warm and effortless. "Hey," she said, stepping into the living room.

"Hi Rosie, nice to see you again," I said with a smile.

I had met Rosie a couple of times at the restaurant, always warm, always effortlessly graceful. She had that rare kind of presence that made you feel at ease, like you belonged, even if you were standing in a stranger's million-dollar penthouse.

As Rosie and I exchanged pleasantries, a soft thump echoed from the staircase.

"Darling!" My little favorite voice squealed.