What should I do?
I turn my head and freeze.
That thought dies instantly.
Octavian leans against the stone railing of the café patio, coffee in hand, phone in the other, not even bothering to look up.
I know he saw me.
I turn away and walk back to the parking lot.
Son of a bitch.
I walk back over to him.
"Where the hell is my car?" I ask.
He takes a sip of his coffee, not looking up from his phone.
"Figured you'd sneak out on your first day."
My blood runs hot at the sound of his voice.
"Okay, you got me. Now," I say, looking around, "where's my car?"
"Gone," he says.
"Gone? What the hell does that mean?"
"I had someone from the house come take it."
"You did what?"
He locks his phone, slips it into his jacket pocket, and finally looks up at me. "You don't need it."
I laugh bitterly. "Are you serious right now?"
"Yes," he says so damn casually and takes another sip of his coffee.
"Well, on whose authority did you do this?"
"Mine."
I stare at him, disbelief warring with fury.
"You can't just?—"
"I can," he says, interrupting me. "And I did."
I bite my tongue to keep from screaming. "You're unbelievable."
"I've been called worse."
I pull out my phone.
"Fine. I'll just call an Uber."
He shrugs. "You can, but I won't let you get in."
