Page 151 of Arianna

“And yet, I don’t have a single clue of who you are and why you feel the need to speak on things that don’t concern you.”

“Oh, she bites. I like you already.” The girl, Quinne, grins, although her eyes have zero light in them. They look exactly like mine did before when I looked at myself in the mirror.

Cold.

Angry.

Sarcastic.

I don’t have to be a genius to see the signs.

“I wish I could say the same, Quinne Jones.” When the waiter reaches our table, I lift my glass, and wait for him to refill it. Thanking him, I take a sip, and look back at her. “I need to know a person to like them.”

“That’s not quite true. There are a lot of mouth breathers that I can’t stand, and I don’t know them. I don’t need to know them.” She’s insane. It doesn’t make sense, yet I agree.

I guess I’m insane as well because sometimes I come across people, and without really knowing them, I know I don't ever want to be associated with them.

Either their vibes are just off, or there’s something in their eyes that lets me know they’re no good.

Nonna did say once that the eyes were the windows to our souls.

Pulling my phone out of the small clutch, I open the nanny camera app Benjamin installed so I can watch Ellaiza in real time. She stayed behind with the house staff and half of Sebastian’s bodyguard’s keeping her safe. The footage shows Ella on her playpen watching cartoons.

It’s almost her bedtime.

God, how I wish I was with her right now. I don’t like being away from her for too long. Putting the phone back in my clutch, I lift my head and notice the girl, Quinne, is looking at me strangely. “What?”

“Trashy news sure travels fast…” she says while scrolling through her phone. “At least they caught your best angle,” she smirks.

“Please, I don't have a bad angle.” I snap, thankful we’re the only ones on the table.

Quinne’s face darkens. “Whatever you say, Arianna.”

Frowning, I ask. “What did you see?”

She offers me her phone, but then Sebastian is there, lifting me off the seat with a murderous look on his face. “We’re leaving.”

“What is going on?” I ask suddenly, annoyed and confused.

“Kenton.” The sleazy-looking man stands behind Sebastian while more people gather around us. “Things are that bad you had to resort to purchasing young pussy?” I cringe when the disgusting pig laughs.

The laugh doesn't last long because, in a second, Sebastian's murderous stare turns lethal before he punches the asshole hard enough that the man hits the ground while everyone else gasps and gawks at the scene.

Oh, fuck.

Then it all happens in a blur. One second, we’re witnessing the asshole moaning down on the floor, and the next, Sebastian and his security are escorting me out of the building while paparazzi shout questions and claim that I am some sort of paid whore.

My heart is racing fast, but not once do I break.

No.

I steel my spine and hold my head high, not letting the filthy speculations get the best of me, just like I did with Celene.

“Senator!” A paparazzi calls Sebastian's name while shoving a camera in his face. “Are the allegations true?”

More shouts, and more accusations.

Through all of it, I focus on Sebastian and how fearless he looks getting me out of there, ready to tear anyone apart who comes close enough, but then I feel someone step on the train of my gown, and I am falling forward, but before I hit the ground, Sebastian’s arms are pulling me upwards, then I am flying, being thrown over his shoulder while his other hand is pushing the crowd away.

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