I Can't Love you, Mr. President

Three

“Our very own President everyone, Ryker Hallard of Ryker Refineries and Hotels!” the host announced, very much kidding his ass.

I tried to keep my eyes off him but, for the love of art, I couldn't. His suit was immaculate, his hair and broad shoulders, and the lean build even through the suit was everything but not obvious.

Fuck, why is he looking at me?

I averted my eyes instantly, assuming a stern expression as I clapped, perfectly in queue with the crowd. From the corner of my eye, I could tell he was looking at me, I wasn't sure why, most likely recalling our little brawl at the studio with his honey-blond friend there.

How I wished he would stop looking at me but he didn't, his gaze in fact seemed undistracted even as his friend spoke to him, only when he needed to greet others.

Now I was beginning to look like the mad one watching his every move. Luckily, the effect of the champagne on me had reduced enough for me to talk, greeting those who approached me with my practised smile and a few words, letting that distract me from that man.

It wasn't unlikely I felt bad for treating him the way I did that day but I wouldn't admit it, especially after seeing such status, before the thought of me wanting to kiss his ass plays in his mind. I felt slightly embarrassed seeing him again at such an important event after that.

Ryker's POV

Maybe I had taken much more than expected, that woman almost looked like the tyrant who had spilt a drink on me at the studio.

“...so you need to, to carry on your legacy,” I heard Davian say something along that line, snapping me back to reality with a rude snapping of his fingers in my face, “Are you even listening to me?”

“Is what you're saying worth listening to?”

“It’s like I'm the only one worried about you, and your mother of course. You couldn't care less! There's a room filled with beautiful, successful ladies who have had eyes on you throughout the night. Pick a few, get to know them, and move on with more important stuff!” He warned.

His promiscuous nature never surprised me but the fact that he had hopes of me joining in on it was the real joke, “Respectfully best friend, I'm not doing that. I don't even want to be here, I rather be in my bed, sleeping on a cold bed but I have duties.”

“With how boring you are, no wonder you don't get laid,” he scoffed.

“I prefer we don't have such vulgar conversations at such an important event,” I warned, keeping a bright smile on my face as I greeted with firm handshakes, “If you excuse me, I have a few people to greet.”

Of course, my alliance with Prime Minister Enzo of Italy lay within having a small talk with his intolerable son, “Mr Caputo, lovely to see you could make it this evening.”

“Our President,” he mocked with a chuckle, “I'm glad I could be here, this place is stunning, and the food? You always outdo yourself!”

We shared a brief chuckle, “My pleasure, I'm simply glad you've found everything nice so far.”

“Don't mind my joyful demeanour with you, I'm in a very bad mood tonight because of one of your guests,” his face turned sour like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Who could have put you in such a foul mood?” I teased, but he didn't notice.

“There,” he pointed. I glanced simply to satisfy him, seeing he pointed at the black-haired woman I had been suspecting since, “She is a b***h!”

“We don't use such language on the women, Mr. Caputo,” I stated.

“She had a high and mighty attitude when I approached her so nicely, as if she was too good for me,” he explained bitterly.

I like her already.

I held in my grin, knowing it'd make this sensitive go on a rage and tell his listening father to pick it up with me, “I'm very sorry to hear that. Maybe she isn't in the best of moods tonight or you pushed a few buttons.”

“Or she's just a b***h. For someone with such a great amount of fame and fortune over such little time, I wonder how she climbed that ladder with such an attitude,” he scoffed.

“Do have a lovely night, Mr. Caputo. Extend my greetings to your father please,” I posed, eager to leave the sight of the man.

“And you too, Mr. President,” he smiled, raising his glass slightly before dunking it down his throat. If I was to say something, he looked like he had had quite enough for a night.

But what do I know about too much?

I would be lying if I said Azura wasn't intriguing, her poise posture as she greeted acquaintances, something obvious in her demeanour that showed she didn't want to be here, after all, she was to decline the invitation if the pianist hadn't intervened.

I was going to approach her, start slow, don't bring up that day.

“Azura the artist, a pleasure to have you here.”

Azura's POV

My heart stopped as he approached me, once he spoke, my heart dropped for some reason, unable to form words in my head to reply, staring dumbfoundedly for a split second before picking myself back together.

Focus.

I set my chin high, “Mr. Hallard, the pleasure is all mine,” I took his outstretched hand in a warm handshake.

“I believe you came with the pianist, Mrs Arwold?”

“Oh yes! Isn't she lovely?” I managed a smile even if I was trembling.

“Specially picking the best is my legacy,” he smiled to himself.

“You must have quite the taste in art then,” I teased.

“I believe so,” he shrugged.

As he was closer, I scanned more of his features, his sharp grey eyes most likely judging me as they wandered around my body but not uncomfortably. His hair was jet black like mine but with strikes of grey hairs. I noticed he had narrowed his eyes, “Is something the matter?”

“I believe we have met before, no?” In a confused tone.

Shit.

I was short of words, trying to juggle my vocabulary to give me anything, “I may not recall, my memory is horrendous,” I lied, shooting a smile for the camera that was suddenly pointed our way.

“I may be wrong but you look much like a lady I had bumped into at the Regal studios earlier today,” he narrowed his eyes.

I sighed, trying to keep myself from saying what would ruin this conversation, “I was in a very horrible mood earlier, my apologies. But if you think you can use that to get a hold on me or make me bow, I would think you don't know who I am.”

“Oh no, that's not what I'm trying to do, Ms. Kuorus,” he frowned his brows, confused.

“No need for the explanation, Mr. Hallard. My sincerest apologies for what has happened earlier but if that's the only reason why you approached me with a pretentious coat of kindness, I least expected that from you,” I said coldly, a smile still resting on my face.

He sighed, shaking his head and then putting a small smile on his face, “Have a nice night, Ms. Kuorus. I apologize for any insubordination.”

“Have a lovely, Mr. Hallard,” I shot him a mocked smile before he left.

“Not even a switch of attitude for Mr. President Azura? No wonder these men are afraid of you,” Aurora’s voice rang in my ear suddenly.

“Spawning from nowhere after my conversations I see?” I teased.

“I'm always just around the corner, these events are usually boring so I have nothing better to do than snoop. Besides, watching men try to use the easy route with you is entertaining,” she raised her brows at me.

“I had a small encounter with him at the studio earlier and had apologized but he was trying to mock me before that with some pretence of kindness only to bring it up,” I scoffed, “I already know men like that expect you at their feet, and I can't be caught dead in ugly man shoes, talkless of bowing to them.”

She only laughed lightly, shaking her head, “He is indeed a d**k for that.”

“A small one,” I folded my arms, “Just soiled my mood with such display.”

“Azura, your mood was the best initially anyway,” she mocked.

“You might have a point there.”

I wished so much in my heart that who I saw approaching my table wasn't who I thought it was. His smile was as broad as someone who just won the lottery, his style as impeccable as ever with his slicked-back brown hair, and award-winning blue eyes focused at me. Unfortunately, it was him.

“Uhm, Azura?” Aurora beckoned on me, her eyes where mine were, “I think he's coming here.”

“He dares not,” I said bluntly, unable to maintain a smile on my face, anger rushing through my veins as his smile only grew as he walked slowly towards us.

“Azura! Baby!” he exclaimed, wanting to go in for a hug but I glared at him, luckily he took the hint to keep to himself.

“Timothy Yavol, back from hell I see?” I folded my arms to my chest.

“Such warm greetings as expected,” he said sarcastically, “Hello, Aurora.”

“Hello,” distraught Aurora waved slowly.

“Your presence disgusts me, Timothy. Kindly leave my sight,” I said bluntly.

“Come on! You didn't miss me, baby?” he assumed a gut-wrenching flirtatious expression.

How I wanted to put him in his place, slap that smug smile off his face, but I had a reputation to uphold.