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“Hah,” the man nervously laughed as he watched Saint and I take a sip of our drinks.
Fuck. This shit is bitter as fuck.
I hid my disgust, my eyes not leaving the men in question as they observed us carefully.
“Arthur O’Donald,” he introduced. “I’m sure you don’t know who I am. I normally am in contact with Beta Felicia when I wish to speak to Alpha De Luca about concerns in the city, but she informed me that I should discuss my affairs with you since Roberto has been MIA as of late.”
I caught onto the drop in temperature from Saint’s side the moment this man, Arthur, introduced himself. That was a clear indication that this man was from our target.
The Vatican.
"So I’m going to assume you’re from the Vatican, correct?” Willow clocked on it and I wanted to praise her so fucking bad.
“Good girl.”
I just had to do it. She briefly looked my way and gave a lopsided grin while hiding her lips with her glass as she sipped more of her drink.
“Mr. O’Donald is certainly from the Vatican,” Saint spoke up, and his voice wasn’t close to friendly.
It was cold, lifeless, and I knew from the sudden rigid stances from all three men that they were feeling the threatening force looming on Willow’s left side.
“Funny how you’d make your acquaintance outside of work hours. If you really needed my queen and couldn’t reach her father, you could have easily contacted me,” he reasoned with a flat expression. His eyes further darkened, those orbs of blue becoming murky with haunting shadows.“Or did you forget my connection with Miss De Luca?”
The guards nervously took a step back. Arthur had no choice but to chuckle uncomfortably while lifting his free hand to try to emphasize his innocence.
“Surprisingly enough, I wasn’t told by the Vatican of your connection with Miss De Luca, Mr. Alexander. I actually didn’t recognize you. I’m used to seeing you in white suits. Your current black ensemble makes you almost unrecognizable. It’s a very good fit, though,” he praised with another nervous chuckle.
His pleading eyes returned to Willow as if she could get him out of this tense predicament, but our Forbidden Queen was so over the drama as she downed her drink and moved out of our grasp just to stand right before Arthur.
“I don’t do business after hours. If you’re seeking my father, you can easily google him and find the list of assistants that can answer your inquiry in a prompt manner.”
She was going to leave, but Arthur spoke up, “It’s just we heard there’s going to be a limited-edition magazine coming out.”
That stopped Willow from taking a step as her head slowly turned back to face the man in question.
“We heard the proceeds would be going to charity, but we were curious about the meaning of doing a special magazine right before Christmas,” he quickly spoke as if he was on a time limit. “I mean, Christmas Eve is already a busy day of scurrying individuals. Your fan base particularly is young and shouldn’t be out and about trying to get loads of magazines that will be what? A special price and given straight to charity? I’m sure you could have easily donated the amount made-”
“Arthur O’Donald, was it?” The sudden deep voice surprised us because I hadn’t even sensed Willow’s shift into William, but there he stood in the attire he wore during the photoshoot. I didn’t admit it, but he looked too good in that outfit, to the point that I’d completely forgotten we were in a public setting and was actually flirting with him just to grind his gears.
It was becoming very clear that I’d turn bisexual as long as it meant Sweets was mine to tease, taste, and enjoy.
Now he was going to put this bastard in his place.
“When did I ask you for business advice?” Could his voice be any more lethal? “You’re really standing here with your two weak-ass buddies to try to intimidate me because of how I run my private, charitable affairs? Certainly, if I sought any form of advice from an illiterate like yourself, I could simply make a Twitter account and request insulative advice the world could deliver. And trust me, they would have a far more frightening comeback to leave me trembling in fear for doing what I’m doing,”
He reached for the man’s glass, took it from his grasp, and lifted it over his head.
Then he proceeded to spill all its contents on the man’s head.
He did it nice and slow while he delivered words so low, I wondered if this man even grasped William’s warning.
“I’m not afraid of the Vatican. Neither are my Forbidden Fruit. If you want to play fire against fire, feel free to do so. In fact, be my fucking guest.”
The last droplets fell onto the man’s drenched hair. The greys stands that were once styled perfectly now looked like the strings of a wet mop.
With a blink, William turned into Willow, but her tone of voice was completely different when she leaned in and whispered,“Romans 4:7. Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven, and whose sins are covered.”
Shivers ran up my spine at the verse, and I could tell from the corner of my eye, Saint was fucking pleased with the verse.
