Page 7 of Scary Suitor

“I was not stalking you,” I refute, cutting apart my food. “I was working up the courage to talk to you.”

She scoffs. “By lurking? Harassing—”

“Better watch your mouth, pretty.”

I’m on edge. Lately, I’ve been craving the unshed tears in her eyes, weak determination, and quivering lips when she realizes the walls are closing in with me right there with her.

A promise is a promise. It wouldn’t be fair to the chasing game if rules are broken. Well, I made the rules; I can change and bend them at will, break as I please, and end the game this instant.

Alina put a lot of effort into this new life, so I need to match her effort to tear it apart by the seams.

She has weeks left to fight me off, and if she wins, I’ll honor my words to let her live freely.

I didn’t set detailed rules. I simply told her to run anywhere in the world and hide within a specific timeframe, then I’d go hunt her down.

“Stop staring,” she gripes, a blush reddening her puffed cheeks.

“You’re beautiful,” I say, and the sincerity no longer surprises me.

“Flattery is not going to get you anywhere.” Alina sniffles pointedly.

“The most beautiful,” I reiterate, adoring her squirms.

A new classical piece transitions, and it’s an uplifting rhythm to lighten the tension. The melody latches onto her rigid body and drifts away with the tautness. She breathes easier, fingers going around the silverware more delicately, and her eyes can leave the second button on my suit.

“I’m sure women in refined dresses and priceless jewelry are more dazzling,” she comments and chases the food down with water.

She has a point. Women donned in luxurious items stand out merely through the exquisite craft, created with the keen eyes and agile hands of the artists. However, the moment those women open their mouths, they’re giving snide comments. The men also have their pride-measuring contests.

They may have learned or been born with elegance, but their existence is imbecilic. I meet more individuals I dislike than people I tolerate.

“Surely you have others you’re … interested in,” she says, wincing. “Preferably in your league.”

I believe that was meant to offend me.

My taste is not unique, just limited to what I desire. Money doesn’t equate to personal appreciation, and no amount of money can buy Alina. She’s a hidden gem, and I would be extremely angry if someone discovered what I declared as mine.

Time is not on my side. If I hadn’t intercepted this spontaneous date,Beckettwould be here to admire the shy batting of her lashes and soft lips resisting a small smile.

No doubt he would fall to the depths of hell.

I saved his life, I want to say. I protected him from the madness of my fist when he would’ve inevitably asked for a second date.

“You are not allowed to talk down to yourself,” I say curtly.

“What?” she mumbles, a scoff bouncing her plush tits. “Only you can?”

It’s a modest dress, but it’s form-fitting around her delectable body. I let the silence drag on, like a gentleman presented with a complex question and need to answer meticulously.

I want to degrade you, I muse. It sounds like the devil is serenading me.

“No,” I say, somewhat unsettled. “Do you want me to?”

The question catches her off guard.

It’s seven in the evening with a starry sky, sitting in a restaurant overlooking the hideous gray sludge road and being subjected to undesirable eyes bursting with indecent yearning from faceless people.

This is hardly the place to think about a night on messy silk bedsheets and pretty moans. And it damn sure is not anyone’s right to stare at Alina.

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