Page 77 of Reverence

To dispose of him in an attempt to make myself feel better about the situation at hand.

The restaurant was dimly lit as I entered it, the hostess gracefully welcoming me into the establishment. “Good afternoon sir, do you have a reservation?” She asked politely with a smile.

I reciprocated the action, fixing the cuff links on my suit jacket. “Yes, table for two under Rivera.”

“Of course. Miss Rivera has already arrived, right this way.” The blonde woman led me towards the back of the restaurant, in a secluded corner where Amala was already seated.

She looked so elegant.

Poised.

Stoic.

You’d never know that just last night I had her body underneath mine as I took her innocence. Fuck.

The sensation in my groin nearly made me groan but I swallowed hard. Trying to rid my mind of the image.

That snake tattoo on her back looked absolutely beautiful—a replica of mine.

“Your waiter will be with you shortly.” The woman said as she gestured towards my seat and then swiftly disappeared. My chair scraped against the tiled floor before I sat down.

Amala watched me intently, crossing one leg over the other.

Her dress hugged her figure perfectly, leaving very little to the imagination. “Nice of you to finally join me.” She uttered but it lacked her usual bite.

She broke eye contact, picking up the toothpick with an olive on it that had been submerged in her martini and slowly took a bite of it.

I zeroed in on her lips for a few seconds then cleared my throat, eyes flicking to hers again.

“It’s been a busy afternoon.” I lied. “A man’s work is never done.” She tilted her head sideways, probably analysing me.

“We agreed to meet here at a certain time. Emphasis on we.”

She said calmly, almost too calmly. “Whether a man’s work is done or not. Doesn’t concern me.”

I chuckled softly, shaking my head while leaning back in my seat. “You’re seriously going to pick a fight with me right now? I thought we were making progress.”

“The term progress is all dependent on perspective. You have your views and I have mine.”

“So you don’t agree?”

I raised an eyebrow. Spreading my legs slightly while resting a hand on my thigh. Her eyes dropped down for a split second but I saw it. I saw everything when it came to this woman.

Another reason why I’d been fuming. Anger simmering in my fucking veins. I saw things I didn’t want to notice but I couldn’t control it.

“We’re definitely cordial. I don’t know if that’s really considered progress.” I ran a hand through my hair, huffing in annoyance.

“Cordial,” I said in disbelief, leaning forward. “I took your virginity last night and you’re telling me we’re fucking cordial?”

There it was. That crack in her stoicism. I watched her throat bob as she gulped before looking away and that irked me. I reached across the table, gripping her jaw firmly. With just enough pressure to make her look at me again.

“You’ve never had an issue holding eye contact before so don’t start looking away from me now, Amala.” This section of the vicinity was vacant but even if it weren’t, I wouldn’t have hesitated to react in the same manner. “You vex me.”

“You infuriate me.” She scoffed, gripping my forearm to help remove my hand from her face. “I don’t understand you. I don’t understand this dynamic. I didn’t call you here to discuss it or overanalyse it.”

“Then why did you call me here?”

“There’s been a breakthrough.” She eyed me, clasping her hands together on the table. “Off the record. We think that the director is somehow involved in this case.”