I must be drunk! He finally lets me go as I cover the cloth with both my hands, letting me loose on my
own shaking legs and pausing for a moment to make sure I can stand unaided. Closing the door
behind him when he lets me go, so I’m locked in here alone, back in complete silence and blinking in
disbelief at how this just went down.
I know no one else will get in here if he is standing outside and I let out a long slow breath of relief. My
life is always drama and violence.
I completely sag against the wall and sink a little. Overcome with adrenaline and yet complete
confusion. That moment was almost tender, Alexi was almost kind and it completely threw me. He’s the
devil incarnate who doesn’t have a heart, yet he didn’t seem that way right now, he seemed almost nice
and genuinely concerned about me.
Who knew he could be so gentle with his touch?
I trace my fingers over where he held my face and can still feel his heat tingling there. No idea why his
touch could leave a mark more effectively on my skin than what that arsehole just did to me and I push
it away. Unnerved by something so stupid and shake it off.
I straighten myself up and walk back to the vanity, catching sight in the mirror of the chaos I’m in.
My hair is falling down badly, pulled and messy, my face bright red and swelling on the left side. My lip
is split and my nose is bleeding from the impact of the punch. I run his handkerchief under cold water
and press it to the areas that are swelling trying to get myself under control, and trying not to baulk at
the mess that arsehole has made of my face. I’m enraged that he’s ripped my new four-thousand-dollar
dress and has ruined it completely!
I manage to tuck the torn fabric into my bra, so it at least looks like it's meant to be and not like its
hanging off, and pull my hair down, so it falls in soft waves around me, concealing a lot of my injuries
instead. I rummage in my bag and use whatever makeup and wipes I can to clean myself up and limit
the obvious damage. Hiding and tidying all signs of anything amiss, so I can get out of this building with
no one asking questions.
Alexi doesn’t like attention directed his way and this would draw a lot of concerned looks. I’m a dab
hand at this kind of quick clean-up; I should be a complete pro at hiding bruises and cuts on minimal
tools at short notice. I spent the first nineteen years of my life doing this on a daily basis at either my
mother’s hands or the sea of men that came after.
Sadly, my first lesson in makeup was how to cover a black eye at a stupidly young age.
I take about ten minutes more, tucking and adjusting my dress to conceal the damage and smooth out
the torn seams to sit flush before I finally venture outside as tidy as I can be. Nerves are also evened
out with my respite and I feel a little surreal but completely back in control.
Shaken but not stirred, as 007 would say. My life taught me the art of quick recovery.
Alexi is leaning against one wall further down the corridor alone and looking very suave in his black
tuxedo, like a man who belongs in grand buildings like this every day of his life. He’s typing on his
phone and glances up when he realises I am venturing out towards him, sliding it inside his jacket and
casting a smooth look my way.
His black shadows are nowhere to be seen, and he pushes himself off his leaning post, walking
towards me to close the gap.
I have to admit, he still looks pretty screwable any day of the week and even more so right now that I
clearly have some sort of hero complex over him.
His eyes scan me as he slides a hand under my hair and cups my cheek to pull my face up to him once
more in an easy commandeering movement. I guess he wants to investigate the damage on show,
probably checking I can pass without drawing eyes our way as we leave before he allows me to try. ‘’I
hate men who think that it’s okay to hit women.’’
He says it so matter-of-factly that it completely takes me by surprise. An unchecked statement said
without thought and I blink at him in half belief.
‘‘What? Aren’t you some sort of kinky sadist who gets off on this shit?’’ I baulk at him, and he just
frowns at me as though I said the most absurd thing; letting my face go and smoothing down his jacket
while putting a little space back between us. That weird giddiness from his close proximity is still
swirling inside of me and I try to ignore it and not over analyse it. The body does weird things to your
emotions when you have had a shock or traumatic moment and it’s nothing more than that.
An adrenaline high and a rush of emotional state. ‘‘I don’t get off on inflicting pain on women no, I like
control and sometimes restraint, but I don’t believe in violently dominating an unmatched sex.
Everything I do is consensual and relatively pain free, there is more pleasure in offered submission
than taking what you want forcibly.’’ He says it so seriously. I have to laugh at the irony in that
statement, coming from him. He sounds normal but there’s a slight look on his face that suggests he is
brooding over a pissed off mood and maybe now is not the time to point out the complete contradiction
to who he is in what he just said.
It is, however, completely blowing my mind; really uncommon in the rich and powerful, especially one
who has a thing for BDSM and severe control issues. I am speechless and literally do not know what to
say. Not what I envisioned of sinister sexy Alexi at all. Maybe he does have a touch of human decency
in there somewhere.
‘‘Are you okay? Do you need me to have my doctor check you over?’’ He startles me with an even
more unexpected question and now I know I must be dreaming.
Alexi concerned? I swear I have fallen into an alternate universe, blinking at him as though he has two
heads and just shake my head at him, brushing my reaction from my face.
‘‘I am made of a lot tougher stuff than that, I have also bounced back from a lot worse. I’m not a
withering flower Alexi; you can stop worrying I may keel over with dramatics.’’ I point out and smooth
out my own attire one more time as though to prove the point. I would never admit that it has left me
shaken and a tad fragile, but I am someone who will move on quickly. I don’t need weird mollycoddling
from King Mafia over here.
Alexi seems to gaze for a long moment in silent thought. Unreadable as usual and I just dismiss
overthinking it. He is good at scrutinising and making you feel like he has you under a microscope and I
just stand taller and throw on a face that says ‘’I’m totally fine.’’
‘’Shall we?’’ He nods down the corridor after a moment, clearly letting it go for now, motioning we
should leave and I agree with a practised smile.
‘‘What are you going to do to him?’’ I ask meekly changing the subject. He moves his hand extending
an arm that hints I am supposed to take it and I obey modestly and silently. I don’t get why suddenly
he’s being so chivalrous and almost—dare I say it—caring. I think Carrero must be drunker than I
thought or maybe he really does think I am about to faint.
I slide my arm further so it fits snugly in the crook of his and nestle against his side, trying to ignore the
sense of calm suddenly enveloping me. I don’t like it in any way shape or form, or that he has an ability
to make me feel this way and once again put it down to the after-effects of mild trauma. He rescued
me, therefore, I am obviously finding some safety in his presence, nothing more.
‘’I haven’t decided yet. I’ll wait till he’s sober and grovelling and use it to my advantage. I never got
around to securing those favors but I guess now I have an angle and you can put your cleavage away
again.’’ He smirks at the last part and I just roll my eyes at him.
Really loses all touch of humanity taking a cheap dig at a girl who has just been messed up and
assaulted in a bathroom. I was wrong, Alexi is still a prick.
‘’Gee, thanks Dahling … Nice to get permission to pack away parts of my own body now you are done
objectifying them for your own gain.’’ Sarcasm and dryness to my tone and I fall in step with him as we
leave this hellhole behind. My face smarts but I have more than enough ability to act like it doesn’t. I
am minorly pissed that he is making jokes already; if I was a lesser kind of girl I would be traumatised,
sobbing and probably giving full on dramatics right now. He has no idea how lucky he is that I bounce
back and get on with it in super pronto time.
‘‘I love the irony. Seeing as you sold girls for sex to support yourself for the last two years.’’ He looks
serious, combative over my statement and I just glare right back.
‘’Women cannot objectify women. I just gave them an offer they couldn’t refuse. You however, just tell
me what to do and spit your dummy out if I don't. You just got me into a position where I couldn’t control
the outcome. YOU are the one who just put me in danger.’’ I point out boldly and lift my chin at him
defiantly. Not about to back down over this topic at all!
Alexi at least has the grace to shrug and nod, he knows he cannot argue with that. If it had been on my
terms and left to be manoeuvred my way then it would never have gone the way it did. You do not work
a sex-starved creep into some sort of wild frenzy within minutes of meeting them; you take it slow and
win them over emotionally first.
‘’You’re right, and I apologise. It won’t happen again.’’ Still effortlessly deadpan and I just follow his lead
as we walk, dropping something I do not want to talk about anymore.
62fb1bb41dcb31934bd49bda