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I block his number just as Briseis and Lenora reach our table, my hands still shaking from all the rage and fear, so it takes inhuman strength for me to grin at them. “Hi.” I get up and extend my hand to Lenora, who, to my surprise, hugs me closer, her flowery scent washing over me. “Nice to meet you in person.”
“Likewise. It’s always an aesthetic pleasure to study your outfits that complement your skin tone and enhance your beauty.” I blink at this, and she laughs. “I’m a future fashion designer, so it’s just my thing.”
“Thank you.” I motion at the booth, and they both slide to their seats. I see the crowd parting slightly, murmurs hushing through the space.
They’re here.
The minute the thought flashes in my head, my gaze finds Florian heading toward the elevators leading to their secret floor, and my stomach plummets because it means only one thing.
He’s about to sleep with someone else, and as humiliating as it might be, I have to tell him now. Especially with the other three going in different directions.
“I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be back,” I tell the girls and dart toward Florian, hiding in the crowd so my brother won’t notice me.
I have no time for his inquisitions.
It’s hard pushing through all the sweaty and hot bodies with a few guys sending me suggestive looks that I gently refuse since they don’t act like assholes and finally get out, quickening my step and exhaling in relief when I see no one around.
“Florian!” I call after him, making him freeze on his way to the elevators. He spins around, our gazes clashing, and the air hitches in my throat at the intensity in his eyes.
He’s so painfully handsome in his leather jacket and blue jeans along with leather boots emphasizing the danger and charm pouring from him in spades, and everything in me cries out to run to him, but I hold back.
He wants none of my affection, and goose bumps erupt on my skin when he glides his eyes over my form, unfamiliar heat flaring up in them only to be masked by indifference. I haven’t addressed him directly in the last couple months. “Jimena.”
Even my name sounds sinister on his mouth, dripping with longing and desire that must be all in my head because this man feels nothing for me but dislike.
How the mighty have fallen, the mighty being me because at least in the past, I had his brotherly affection.
“How are you, Florian?” The ridiculous question slips past my lips before I can stop it, and he raises his brow. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“We saw each other at the wedding last night.”
The AC buzzes loudly, and coldness nips at my flesh. I cross my arms and rub when fear envelops me, my mind finding the best words to start this life-changing conversation.
In all my dreams about love and babies, I never imagined telling the man I love I’m pregnant with his child while being in his club and him actively avoiding my entire existence.
“Right. But you know what I mean. I hate this awkwardness between us.”
Something crosses his face, but it’s gone so quickly I have no time to study it. “Maybe you shouldn’t have sneaked up in my club and pretended to be someone else so I could fuck you.” I flinch at his detached tone and the crude way he describes what happened between us, shattering any remaining illusions my stupid heart might have had. “If that’s all…”
Self-preservation screams at me to get away from him and his scrutiny because for my whole life, he has been my safe, warm harbor that accepted me with all my flaws and loved me anyway.
Who provided a container for all my pent-up emotions and allowed me to express them without judging me.
Who always found time for me no matter how busy he was and protected me sometimes from myself and my intrusive thoughts that made me wonder about dark things.
Florian was my salvation…why did my love turn him into my damnation?
He resumes his walk to the elevator, snapping me out of my stupor, and I will all my courage and bravery to withstand whatever reaction he’d give me. “I need to talk to you.”
He presses the elevator button. Coldness coats his voice when he replies, causing the disgusting tremor to rush down my spine as if alerting me about the upcoming blow, except I have no choice but to stay glued to the place. “Too bad. My plans for tonight don’t include you.”
I rub my arms some more while bile rises in my throat, understanding the implication in his words at once and wincing because it physically pains me to hear him say that.
I love him.
My whole life, I loved no one but him, and even if he doesn’t love me…why does he have to be so cruel to my heart? Is it such an offense to have someone love him?
He punishes me like I’ve committed a crime.
