Chapter Eight
1036 Words
David’s POV
The look in Rihanna’s eyes shifted from despise to surprise. Not shock or fright, as if she had finally caught on to something.
Did she finally remember me from that night or was it something else?
I hated that look in her eyes, it felt as if she could see right through my facade and knew I couldn’t harm her, no matter what.
"I don't have all day!" I snapped, taking another step closer, my imposing figure towering over her in an intimidating manner.
"I want to read the contract. You asked me to read it." She said, taking a fearful step back, yet a scornful glint remained in her eyes as she held my gaze.
It frustrated me that I couldn't fully understand her. She seemed so easy to read, yet at the same time, so difficult to comprehend. One moment she appeared terrified of me, and the next, she looked at me confidently, filled with derision.
"You lost that chance the moment you defied me." I growled, pulling the gun from Dane's back and c*****g it, aiming it at her forehead. "Don't you dare try to play games with me, Principessa. I'm not a patient man."
She raised her hands in surrender, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she was mocking me. "I thought you said you wouldn't kill me."
"I could easily change my mind and reunite you with your family in an instant."
She swallowed, her eyes darting across my face as she weighed her options.
"How do I know you won't harm Ivory after I sign this?" she deflected once again.
"If you're that curious," I paused, pressing the gun against her temple, my gaze dark and menacing. "Why don't you find out?"
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed once more. "You never gave me a pen." she said after a moment.
"No one signs my contracts with a pen," I replied, shooting Dane a meaningful look.
In an instant, he swiftly approached, his grip tightening around her delicate hand. She parted her lips, ready to speak, but before any words could escape, Dane ruthlessly sliced her thumb with a razor-sharp knife.
"What the f**k!" She exclaimed, wincing as blood welled up from her wounded thumb. The sight of her crimson blood sent a shiver down my spine as if I could feel the dirtiness crawling on my skin, urging me to retreat to the bathroom and scrub away the contamination.
"Let that drop of blood fall, and mark my words, you'll be scrubbing this room for weeks," I warned, my voice low and chilling, dripping with menace. Without hesitation, she guided the blood droplet with her other hand, preventing it from staining my pristine rug.
"You should have let me handle it myself," She murmured, pressing her bloodied thumb onto the designated signature spaces on the contract.
"I don't believe you're in a position to decide what you want to do. I make the decisions here. Never forget that." I asserted, snatching the papers from her trembling hand and tossing them to Dane. He knew exactly what to do with them.
"Get out!" I spat, my disgust evident, the metallic scent of her blood permeating the room. Dane, understanding my repugnance for blood, firmly grasped her arm and swiftly escorted her out, paying no heed to her feeble protests.
I scrambled back into the bathroom, seeking solace in the scalding water of the shower, and scrubbing my body vigorously until I felt cleansed once more. After changing into clean clothes, I made my way down the hallway to her room, situated on the same floor as mine. It was a floor exclusively reserved for me, and yet I instructed Dane to allocate a room to her there.
I stood in front of the entrance, my hand hovered above the knob ready to push the door open. But just before I could do that, a faint sound caught my attention. Muffled noises echoed from within the room. I unmistakably knew it was the sound of someone crying. It was her, Rihanna. The realization made me hesitate.
I was no empath and yet I decided to give her space. The thought of dealing with a woman's tears was daunting, and I knew it was best to let her gather herself. With one last glance at the door, I took a step back and made my way down the staircase towards the living room.
“Dane, go get her.” I instructed as I settled into a plush chair. I’d rather have him deal with her tears instead. I reached for my phone and began making a series of important calls to my business partners. The urgency of the situation demanded my attention, and I focused on coordinating the delivery of their packages.
As I concluded one of my calls, Rihanna gracefully entered the room, her presence commanding attention.
"Take a seat." I said, my voice carrying an unexpected calmness that felt foreign to my ears.
My eyes scanned her face, searching for any trace of the tears I had heard earlier. If I hadn't witnessed it myself, I would have doubted that such vulnerability ever existed.
"When can I go home?" She suddenly asked, her voice tinged with desperation.
"Home? Darling, you don't have that luxury anymore. Didn't you understand the purpose of the contract you signed?"
"I would have known if you had actually let me read it." She retorted through gritted teeth.
"You had your chance, but you blew it." I replied, my tone firm.
"I need my phone back. I have to speak to my sister. I need to make sure she's safe." She insisted, her arms folded across her chest.
"You haven't earned that privilege. If you truly care about her well-being, you'll do as you're told. And if you choose to defy me, you already know the consequences." My voice carried a mix of authority and warning.
A scowl etched itself onto her face, her lips pursed and her gaze distant. It was clear that she was deep in thought, contemplating her next move.
And with a final resolve, she spoke the words I had been waiting for, "What do I have to do?"
- Writer
