Page 39 of Blood Bonds

I opened my mouth ready to repeat what he had just said back at him, only to find him exiting the car. I felt like reaching over and handing the driver all the money I possessed, asking him to high tail it out of here.

But wait… why was he still in the driver’s seat? Because every other time I’d been in this car, he was the one to open the door. Well, clearly Victor had different ideas because, this time, he was the one to open my door and offered me his hand.

A hand I really didn’t want to take.

Although my ‘date’ really hadn’t got that memo because he flipped the switch and the stern, bossy Victor was back, demanding,

“Take my hand, Nessa.”

I swallowed hard at the authority that laced each word like it was law and gave him my hand, unable to help myself. Then I let him pull me from the car until I was left gaping up at him, blurting out the question,

“Why can’t I say no to you?”

He answered first with a smirk and second by wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer. My breath left me on a lightheaded whoosh, as he leaned down.

“Because secretly, you don’t want to,”he told me seductively and damn him… he wasn’t wrong.

Although he also didn’t do what I wanted him to do in that moment because instead of kissing me, he released his hold on me and took my hand so he could lead me to the last place I wanted to go.

“I can’t… please, can we just… I don’t know, stay in the car and talk?” I asked, and something in my voice must have been enough for him to realize that I wasn’t joking. Which was when he stopped leading me toward the fancy entrance that had a foreign word written above it called,

He turned to face me, and I felt his crooked fingers under my chin, tipping my head the way he wanted it.

“Look at me,” he demanded when I avoided his intense gaze.

“Alright, sweetheart, now this is what is going to happen, we are going to walk in there and…”

“But…” I tried to interrupt.

“I have not finished,” he stated firmly, making my mouth snap shut, letting him continue. “You are going to realize that there is nothing to worry about, because you are perfect just the way you are and if anyone dares to say otherwise or makes you feel as if you don’t belong, then they suffer the consequences.”

I swear I felt like I was trying to swallow molasses.

“Consequences?” I questioned. He had made that one-word sound like something deadly.

Who the hell was this guy?

“They will be asked to leave or if they work there, they will lose their jobs.”

My mouth dropped before I engaged my brain enough to ask, “Lose their jobs?”

He grinned down at me, running the backs of his fingers down my cheek and adding to the tender look he gave me.

“I own the restaurant, Sweetheart.”

I mouthed the word, ‘Oh’, giving him another reason to smile, although this time he added,

“Cute as fuck.”Then he kissed me on my forehead and, again, my breath left me. In fact, I was so lost in my happy heart flutter that I didn’t even realize I had been walked inside before my eyes widened at the beauty of the place.

A curtain of thin black rope hung behind the hostess, someone who clearly recognized her boss.

But my eyes were elsewhere as the dark gray walls would have been foreboding had it not been for the magnificent painted domed ceiling. A picture that told a story of ancient gods and mythical creatures at war. The center of all the glorious heavenly chaos was what looked like a golden, glass heart hanging down the center, lit up from inside. It cast a warm glow that mirrored the same golden glass light fixtures on the walls. Black velvet covered seats were situated around gold leaf tables, each with its own little golden lamp in the middle. The floor was a dark slate, that looked rough and mirrored the textured walls.

I also noticed that Victor started speaking immediately in what sounded like Greek to the woman, before she could even open her mouth. Another man, who was most likely the manager, heard this and walked over, greeting Victor like he was royalty. Seriously, he even bowed his head a little, making me wonder if it was a culture thing? Their eyes widened before turning to me and granting me a warm smile,

“Good evening, Miss Cadell, welcome to Kardiá,” said the man who looked to be in his early fifties and had salt and pepper hair.

“Erm… thank you. It’s lovely,” I said because it was, and also because I didn’t know what else to say. Meanwhile, I triedto ignore the heated look Victor was giving me. One that only ended when the woman at the desk asked,

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