Page 19 of Frayed Bonds

My heart rate picks up, as I stare down at the point of contact. It isn’t a tight grasp, it's quite gentle, but it feels so firm that I wonder if he can feel the drumming of my pulse beneath my skin.

“Can you let go of me?” I say, my voice is barely above a whisper. Fuck.

The smirk that tugs at his lip leaves me feeling pathetic for sounding as submissive as I am right now.

“Watch where you're going next time, I prefer not to have face prints on my new suits.” He removes the hand on my arm and dusts the front of his jacket.

The comment leaves me shivering slightly. I barely have any makeup on. Does it look that bad and cakey? I begin subconsciously running through my makeup routine, wondering if I had put on more foundation than usual. Maybe it's too much powder.

I mentally snap myself out of it, realising I'm doing it again. I'm picking myself apart, and being overly critical all because of a stupid man’s words. I shove the thoughts and any remaining insecurities to the back of my head.

“Why? Are you worried that your girl of the night might be upset, Lothario?”

His jaw clenches. Bingo, guess the news articles weren't completely false. Where all his brothers try to steer clear of the public eye while with women, Ambrose however couldn't seem to give a shit. Maybe he gets a rush from seeing himself on the front cover of every news article.

“She doesn't spend too much time worrying about my suits when they are on the floor.” He shrugs, returning to his indifferent stare.

Of course, he has a girl lined up for this evening. Why wouldn't he?

“Well, you better get going then.” I gesture my head towards the main restaurant. It’s a weak comeback, but with my bladder threatening to burst, it reminds me why I am here.

He stares at me for a bit before nodding, “Enjoy your dinner, sweetheart.” He steps aside and leaves me watching him walk away with wide eyes.

Sweetheart? Disgust and annoyance boil within me at the stupid pet name. I hate pet names because Mattheo would always call me one seconds before giving me bad news or letting me down. Hoping the nickname would soften the blow of whatever he would say.

The ring on my finger feels as if it’s tightening, and my jaw feels as if it’s about to lock in place. My heart rate picks up dramatically and I rush into the bathroom. Hurriedly, I run my hands and wrists under cold water and I take a deep breath trying to calm myself down.

Of course, Ambrose would trigger a reaction like this in me without even knowing. I hate how Mattheo has ruined so many normal things for me. I can’t even have someone call me a pet name without breaking down.

“Is everything okay?” Nat asks with worry clear on her face when I return to the table.

“Uh-huh, I’m going outside for a smoke,” I say, and she nods, but doesn't make the move to say anything.

I don’t smoke often, but whenever I'm incredibly stressed, the urge returns. It’s a bad habit that started after I moved to Paris, and although I do it a lot less now, it still rears its ugly head every so often.

Once outside, the cold air welcomes me with open arms as it immediately cools my hot skin. It feels as if I've run a marathon with how flushed my skin is.

I walk slightly away from the main entrance, eyes shifting around anytime someone walks by, and lean against a wall. Pulling out my lighter and pack of cigarettes, I light it and breathe in the almost-forgotten taste.

“Could I borrow a lighter?” a deep voice asks, causing me to jump.

I frown hoping it isn’t Ambrose, but when I look up and see an unfamiliar man, my brows furrow. I hand him the lighter and he steps to the side to light his cigarette. Behind him, in a white shirt and black slacks is Adriano. He stares at me wearily before smirking.

“Little Val, fancy seeing you here.” He walks up to me.

“You two know each other?” The older man gestures between Adriano and I.

My focus shifts to him, he’s easily old enough to be my father with his salt-and-pepper hair and large belly. The neat black suit he’s wearing seems to be holding itself together by a thread. It's also plain in comparison to what Ambrose wears. I roll my eyes, knowing he's made his way into his thoughts again.

“Valerie, this is Diego, he’s one of Vitale Holding’s largest investors.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, reaching out to take my lighter back, the bright pink object looking odd in his large hand.

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He hands it back, not before allowing his fingers to linger on mine only slightly.

“What are you doing here, Val?” Adriano asks as he moves to stand in between Diego and me.

“Dinner with a friend, but if I didn’t know any better, I'd think the Vitale brothers were obsessed with me the way you always seem to pop up everywhere I am.”

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