Page 27 of Guarded

I nod my head.

“What do you say?”

“Yes, Sir,” I say, but not without noticing the wicked smile that forms on his face.

“Can we just not tell Axel about this?” I plead with him.

“I won’t tell Axel if you tell me why you were letting some weirdo take pictures of your feet instead of just paying a qualified groomer.”

“Well. For starters, if you must know, I’m broke.” I whisper yell across the table.

His brows arch, and his eyes zoom in on my pink Louis Vuitton bag. I let out a huff and check my surroundings to make sure no one can hear me.

“If you must know, Sir, I have a bit more extravagant taste than the average girl. I have a small budget to work with since your boss, my brother, had my parents cut me off from my trust fund. Half of my paycheck goes into a savings account just so I don’t have to rely on a fucking man in the near future!”

I’m still whisper yelling. A step away from fully going off on Nero and another step away from standing up and declaring my war on the patriarchy. I hate men!

How dare anyone fucking judge me? How dare Nero judge me? He wasn’t born into this fucking male-dominated world with a vagina. Even Thalia, in all her strength and rise to the top, had to earn her respect among men, and that was rare. I was a pawn in their games.

“I’m sure you’re well aware that my parents are arranging a wedding for me,” I say instead of the fuck the patriarchy speech.

It’s not a question but I wait for him to answer. It was no surprise to the outside world who I was. I avoid going outside because every time I turn around someone is trying to capture a false story about me for their gossip blogs.

“I do,” he replies.

“Well, not that you care, but I’m sad about it. I wasn’t able to go to school for what I wanted, I won’t be able to choose my husband, and I probably won’t have a say in how my future children are raised, so...” I take a deep breath, hoping I don’t cry like a psycho in my family’s establishment.

“So, I am saving up money to have for myself.”

I won’t elaborate on why, but the sympathy that flashes in his eyes tells me I don’t need to.

I look down at my chipped nails. God, I need a fill. By no means was I broke, but when you live your whole life more fortunate than others, you become accustomed to it. To just be cut off was a hard adjustment. That was the biggest problem with my family giving me everything. My parents had set me up to fail.

I didn’t even fully understand the concept of how money worked because I didn’t ever have to pay for anything.

The saddest part of this story is that my parents didn’t even cut me off in attempts to teach me to be humble or learn to budget. No. Axel cut me off because it was his way of controlling me, bending me to his will.

He thought he could break me, but the jokes on him because I was testing myself and learning how to budget. I knew I could learn to live with less. I was willing to do so for the sake of freedom.

Estephania returns with our plates, and thankfully, the conversation dies there. Nero doesn’t ask a million questions because as much as I love asking other people questions, I hate answering them.

I watch as Nero places a napkin in his lap and begins to cut into his country-fried steak. Something about a man who could showcase his manners was sexy to me.

There were many things that Nero did that I found attractive. Besides his exquisite body, I always noticed little things, like him opening the door for me, placing a blanket on me, and pretending to drink my smoothies, even though I know he throws them down the drain the moment I leave the room.

I look down at the eggs benedict, and my mouth waters. When I take a bite, there’s an explosion of flavors in my mouth.

“Oh my god. This tastes like heaven!” I exclaim.

The fucking hollandaise sauce is better than anything I’ve ever had. I cut a small piece of the egg and slather it into the sauce.

“Here, try it.” I hold the fork out, and his eyes lock in on me.

He looks around us and hesitates for a moment before grabbing the fork from me and taking a bite. Then, he nods in approval and hands me the fork back.

“It’s good, right?” I ask.

Nero nods and returns to his steak. Halfway through the plate, I look up to see my Aunt Olivia approaching the table.

---