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“Indeed, it turned out alright for you.”
Seraphina places her empty glass on the table next to her. I lift the bottle I have chilling in ice out of the steel bucket.
“I don’t think I should have another.” She holds her hand up, declining me.
“Nonsense. You just graduated. Surely, the norm is to celebrate.” I pour the champagne into her glass.
“I don’t really follow the norm.” Her smile is distant.
I stare at her. “Yes, I can see that. Nothing about you is average.”
She brushes a curl away from her face, her elegant hands and perfectly painted fingernails moving gracefully.
“What do you do, Antonio?”
“I own a few businesses.”
“Very vague,” she smiles.
“What did you study?”
“Business strategy. It fascinates me.”
“Strategy or business?”
“Strategy.”
My gut is telling me that this girl is dangerous. I shouldn’t talk to her. She’s curious and knowledgeable, but I want this conversation to continue.
“Who are your parents, or - who raised you?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Aoi.”
She nods as though she knows them. I assume she would, anyway. Her grandfather, being the person he is, would have knowledge of the world, its workings, and the players involved.
I feel so connected to her. Her story is so similar to mine. Without her parents and a different place to call home, she was raised in a whole new world. She doesn't know what the word family really means. Many find her presence unwelcome, as she is different and doesn’t belong here. Her features are exotic and stand out. She is beautiful beyond words, and I know that has been a blessing and a curse to her.
I imagine she struggled with the same things I did. In school, children would have treated her differently, actually even as an adult now.
Some would bully, mock, or look at her with distaste. I imagine she doesn't see her uniqueness in the same way I do. As an artwork. An exquisite, priceless artwork.
A piece of art that I want to call my own. Something unique, only I can display and cherish daily. She is a one-of-a-kind piece, and I want her.
The more she dodges, the more intrigued I become. It's like she's crafted from a different mold. Most women? They swoon the second I flash a smile or hint at my status—dazzled by the money, power, the whole facade. But her? She scans my mansion with this nonchalant air, as if it's all just... ordinary.
It's not the usual awe I'm met with; it feels like a challenge. And damn, do I love a challenge! She's playing it cool, hard to get, and that just flips a switch in me. Now, it's like we're in this dance—she's the prey, I'm the predator. And I can't shake off this burning need to have her, to claim her as mine in every sense. This isn't just about wanting anymore; it's about winning, owning, consuming.
“Antonio, thank you so much for the drink and the conversation. I think I need to get going.”
“Where is your friend?” I don’t want her to leave.
“I see she has found her entertainment. Another boy to string along.” She laughs and shakes her head.
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I guess I'm just not interested in things like that.”
“What are you interested in, Seraphina?”
