An Interview with Mr. Ex

Chapter 9: Meeting The Satan's Sister

Chapter 9: Meeting The Satan's Sister

(Present - Jared's home)

(Jared)

Jared Wilson had never been speechless in his life. Or thunderstruck. Never. Not even when he met the richest, most powerful men in the business world, not when he shook hands with the senators and councilmen and women. But today he felt dumbstruck on seeing the woman who had tormented him in his dreams and nightmares. For years and years.

Of course, he knew he was going to meet her, but he didn't know it was today.

She looked beautiful. Her smile was shark-like and so fake, her wide eyes were sharp, but she was still beautiful. She still made something in him go wrong.

He could never forget her face, her smile, her brilliantly blue eyes, but what was she doing here?

This is not Olivia Danvers. This is Satan's little sister.

His meeting was with Olivia Danvers, and he knew Jade worked with her, of course. He had had daydreams about how that meeting would go, but he hadn't expected her to just show up in his house, without any forewarning.

I am still not fully prepared for her to be in my house.

His house. It was supposed to be hers, as well, if they hadn't broken up. But they had and then she had made a home with someone else, as if he was so easy to replace with something else. A new family.

He gritted his teeth as emotions swirled inside him. Wild and crazy. Unforgiving and punishing.

He wasn't ready to face her now. He was unprepared, right now. He was stupified, ruffled and the way his heart thundered, it wasn't helping him, not at all.

Jade looked at him, her lips pressed together, with a notepad clutched in her hand. She gave him a cool look—she looked poised, unfazed. She didn't look disconcerted as he was.

"So, are you gonna let me in, Mr. Wilson? Or are we going to do it in your front door?" her voice was stoic, her chin was raised defiantly and her eyes were elegantly impassioned... but when he looked a little bit closer, he could still see the fire sizzling underneath the cool exterior. He didn't also miss the slight tremble in her fingers. That sight gave him a strange pleasure.

So you are just as flustered as I am. Good for you, Jade, you have learnt how to hide what you are feeling ... He thought with a derisive smirk.

She still looked the same. Beautiful. Soft. Lush. Like burning desires. And Jade. But she wasn't the same fragile-eyed girl he had first met. The stubborn press of her lips, the cool disregard in her eyes, this was someone too grown up, too independent, too fierce to be controlled and he wanted to control her.

His legs shook to his surprise and he felt his heart twist. What was this woman doing to him? Again. Sh*t. This wasn't right, not at all. He shouldn't be feeling this jumbled mess of emotions, or need. He should only feel anger and rage. Anything else would be just stupid and reckless. He wasn't reckless.

Don't let her in. Close your door and windows and run. Keep running.

"Oh yes, of course. Come on in. It was just that I was expecting Ms. Danvers and you are definitely not her." He showed her to the library and his voice sounded different, less stern and more breathless and he was angry with himself. How could he be this shameless being?

"Thank God, at least you have got some manners. Oh, and Miss Danvers had an emergency at home. That is why I am here. Would I willingly-" She stopped without finishing, with a small sneer, but he knew she stopped because she wanted to, not because she was afraid to.

She walked inside, her body rubbing against him, soft and tempting, and he could feel her against him, only for just a moment, but it was enough to stir him up.

Why is it so hot in here? Why am I burning up?

He was sweating like a roasted pig in an overheated oven and his home was fully air-conditioned.

This is not going exactly according to my plans. Not at all. But then what did I expect?

She was the destroyer of plans.

"Not good, not good at all," he whispered under his breath and her head snapped towards him for a moment as if she bad heard him and then she shrugged, like she didn't care about his plight. "Through here, library." He said pushing the door open and she stopped for a moment before she walked in and primly sat down.

"Shall we start if you have finished your inner monologue, Mr. Wilson?" She asked as she sat on the plush brown couch, looking strong, beautiful and proud. He took a seat opposite to her.

She took out her recorder and pressed it and put it on the table, before she looked down.

Her eyes were on her notepad and he freely took her in. All of her. So beautiful, so luscious. Her sky-blue eyes were cold, distant, but he remembered the way they widened in surprise, the way they lit up in eager enthusiasm, the way they heated up in passion her when he touched her.

He stood up, unable to take it any longer. He furtively adjusted his dented pants and grabbed a glass of water from his table. He wanted to pour it all over himself, but he just took a gulp and another and another. He felt like he was burning, wandering along a sandy desert.

"Mr. Wilson, you can drink your water later, I have to finish this and go home." Jade's voice was vexed and it was as if her words were the harsh splash of cold water on his arousal. He shook his head and turned to look at her. He wanted to ask, Will your family be waiting for you? But he didn't.

He wondered if she could recognise this room? This library was her vision, her dream. The tall bookshelves, the polished wooden floors, the couch, the dark grey Japanese futon pushed against the side wall, the posters of some of the old classics that hung on the painted wooden walls... But it didn't look like she remembered.

She wouldn't have time to remember me or us. She had her hands full with another family. He thought coldly, as anger bubbled inside him.

"Yes, yes. I am done with my monologue and the water." He said sarcastically as he slammed the glass on the table and she glanced up at him sharply. He gave her a look that spoke volumes of what he couldn't scream as he took a seat opposite to her.

"Go on," He said, and his throat felt like he had just eaten a whole sack of sand, but he wouldn't show that to her. He wouldn't show that he was weak. Or needy.

"So Mr. Wilson, tell me about you?" she asked and started to write in her notepad. Her eyes were still on her notepad, only on it.

"What do you want to know?" he asked as he looked up at her.

She sat there, primly, but there was something wild in her eyes. Reckless.

She was beautiful, god dammit, she was too beautiful for her own good. Her blue eyes were blank, but beneath that he could sense the fire and anger. Ready to burn him alive if needed.

Her cheeks were the color of soft red, and her lips, her full lips were tempting him to take a sip and he could so easily remember how she tasted once - sweet, lusty, wanton and it amazed him how he could recall it all so vividly.

Stop. Stop this. This is not appropriate.

He wanted to taste her lips, now. He wanted to feel all of her, around him. The room was suffused with her scent and it was heady. It made him feel faint. He wanted her so badly. Just looking at her made him feel all kinds of pain. He ached all over for her.

You know, she's married, a voice that sounded a lot like Tom whispered in his head and his heart constricted. Married.

She was married and she was another man's. A man who has got to enjoy her mind, her body and her soul. Something inside him died and turned rotten at that instant as reality slapped him hard across the face.

She wasn't his. She would never be his. And he was the reason for that. But knowing that she was happy with someone else... it cut.

It cut deep. It hurt like hell.

"Do you want to know if I am happy?" He said with a dark glare in her direction. She gave him a shrug, 'whatever, I just don't give a damn' shrug. The shrug made him extremely angry, so was the devil-may-care look in her eyes.

You will regret this, Jade...

***

(Jade)

Jade sat there, eyes swivelling around. It smelled wonderful in here. Like old books and new ones, like words and worlds hidden in those words. The place was massive and it almost made her swoon.

She had always wanted a big library. She had wanted a couch exactly like she was sitting right now... she wanted book racks that touched the ceilings, every possible novel and book filling them, the dark wooden floors that felt soft underneath her feet, the dark grey Japanese futon unrolled next to a small floor table with a Jade plant in glass terrarium, and behind the futon were framed quotes of Rumi—her favorite poet.

On the side were fiddle leaf plants and money plants in golden cage like pots, and the wall behind his desk was covered printed and framed poster of some of her favorite books like Jane Austen's Emma, Gone with the wind, Bram Stoker's Dracula, Harry Potter, Nora Roberts' books...

and... she blinked. This was what she had wanted then, exactly this. Everything. This was her vision. Her dream

Did he... remember it? Of course he did. The detail in which it is done, every small specific aspect of it... there is no way this is not her fantasy place. This is her vision, her dream, her haven.

Once upon a time, when they had talked about their palace, where they would rule together, when he had talked about building a mansion for them, she would always talk about how the library in their palace would look and this was that library in his palace.

But she was afraid to think about it, to wonder about it. This proved that he hadn't completely stopped thinking about her, as well and it scared her. Not now. Everything was already at the point of no return and she couldn't complicate it. She wouldn't allow him to complicate this for her.

"A futon, house plants, something warm and cozy for a couch, a table... Oh, Jare, Jare, would it be amazing to make some posters of some of the books and frame it. I want loads of romance novels. Not just your computer books, Jared," she had warned and he had laughed and promised she would get everything she wanted.

"And quotes... Rumi's, Frost's, maybe." She had said, her eyes filled with dreams, burning from the inside.

"I am partial to Rumi, you always tell his words to me when we make love, when you rock my world... so..." Jared had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his lap and she had put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer so that she could feel him all around her. He had sniffed her and kissed her, bit her and then licked her right where her neck and shoulder met—he knew she would go crazy from that one lick, one bite.

Jade closed her eyes with a sigh. Just the memory of him and her made her feel all kind of lusty feelings that she shouldn't be feeling right now.

Stop. Stop thinking about that. Stop torturing yourself, you idi*t. What the hell is wrong with you?

Everything. Everything is wrong with me, with this. I shouldn't be here... I-

"What do you want to know?" He asked as he looked at her face. His eyes were sharp, intrigued. It was as if he wanted to read her dark secrets, it was as if he could already read her secrets.

His voice was a soft breath, a caress on her heated skin and something deep inside her stirred awake. Something that had been dead for far too long. Hunger. Pain. Desire. Lust.

Everything only he could awake in her. It was a torture, knowing your body wanted what your heart couldn't take.

F*ck. This is not right. Stop, you wanton body. He is not yours. He is not yours anymore.

For all she knew, he had a girlfriend. It wouldn't be a big surprise. He had always had girls flocking to him whenever and whereever.

She had always been the most practical person, but the thing was... when it came to him, her practicality, her logic, they all became nonexistent.

He looked at her with those grey eyes, hiding millions of stormy nights, and she pulsed, like live electric wire. Her body was yearning, for just a touch, just a kiss.

But if it happened, it wouldn't be just a kiss or just a touch. It would brand her, scorch her.

She stared at his lips as he spoke. Plump. Soft. Full. Like velvet. It had once tasted like honey, and then it was like poison. her poison.

How many times had she kissed it and had lost herself in his kiss, forgotten everything around her. It was like a strange magic.

His lips were such a distraction on his face. She could almost taste him on her lips, smell him, feel him. Her body felt hot, alive and every nerve end singed. She bit her lips and licked it as if she wanted to find the taste of him lost in the depths of her lips. It had been years, and here she was... again. Longing for him. Yearning. Burning. As she had always been, for him.

I know it... He brings the side of me I try so hard to forget. He is my personal hell and everytime he is near, I burn.

She had always been a good girl, with a good brain, and she had been shy, timid, colourless before him back in those days of her college. She was a freshman and he was a junior in college and their lives had collided when he collided with her. After that, everything changed.

He had walked in with his mysterious smile, his bothering eyes and frustrating remarks and she had become orange and red and blue. She had become rainbows and prisms. With him, she had been a bad, bad girl. After just a kiss, she had turned. He had turned her. And she had wanted him. Only him. She had wanted him with a burning fire, that had later become the death of her. He had burnt her, leaving her in the ashes. And it took a lot of time, a lot of effort to raise herself back from the ashes.

Remember that. She said to herself, but it was hard to remember anything when her body throbbed in need. She felt hot red, burning, flaming. She hadn't felt red and orange in so long. She had been so grey without him.

She shook her head. And it was better she stayed grey. Colors, the kind of colors he offered came with a price. And the price was still hurting inside her even as it beat dutifully. The hole he left was still wide open. Not even Cole, her world, could fill it.

"Do you want to know if I am happy?" He asked with a thinly veiled disgust. She could read him, read his eyes, read his unsaid words.

Her body went rigid. She didn't want to fight with him, she didn't have any energy left in her to have this fight, not right now.

"Nope. I just want to know if you are still stubborn," She snapped. She didn't care anymore. She was trying to be professional, but... "But then I don't care anymore. We are strangers, and I don't need to know about your happiness, your feelings. I want to know about your life, the one that you are willing to share with the public, this is a meeting, Mr. Wilson. A business meeting."

He glared at her. "Maybe I am still stubborn. But Ms. Thompson, remember this. I can break your life if I want to." His voice was powerful, commanding respect. But she didn't respect him. Or fear him. Yes, she desired him, she wanted him, but no, she didn't fear him. His eyes might cut and kill someone else, but her skin had grown thick and strong with time.

"Is that a threat, Mr. Wilson? Do you know how many men I have handled? Arrogant, insolent, entitled men like you. And do you know how many have threatened me? I have lost the count. So don't you dare try to belittle me or scare me. I won't back down. I am not that woman, not anymore."

"Who dared threaten you?" He suddenly looked angry. Angry at anyone and everyone who had ever threatened her and it confused her.

What the hell is his problem? One moment he is threatening to destroy my life and another moment he is getting angry because someone else had done the same? This is exactly why I didn't want to come here. I know this will happen. I know he would disrupt my life. He is not good for my health. Or my head. He makes me crazy. And he is crazy.

"You did. Just a few seconds ago, you dared." She accused and he looked down as if he was ashamed. But then he looked up, and his eyes were searching her face.

"I am not happy," he said as he looked deep into her eyes. She didn't understand anything else except he was as confused as her right now.

"I think you are still in shock," she said as she tried not to let his confession affect her. "Maybe I can come tomorrow. We still have two days before the actual interview. So..."

"I am not in shock. It is not like I haven't seen you before..." He said and then he bit his lips as if he just realized he had admitted to something he didn't want to.

"You have seen me?" She said and was so thankful that her voice didn't betray her. He gave an indifferent shrug, but his eyes were anything but indifferent.

"Oh, just here and there. I mean you are almost a local celebrity around here and your videos reached me, too, sometimes." He avoided her eyes. It felt like he was not saying everything he wanted to say.

"So you did know I was working in MIB. Is that why you decided to do the interview?" She asked, a doubtful look in her face.

He looked at her as if she had lost her head and shook his head. "No. Why would I do that?" He looked dubious. "I am not that desperate, Ms. Thompson." He said 'Ms. Thompson' with extra pressure, as if her name hurt him or something.

"Now that we have done and said everything we are not supposed to, can we go back to why I am actually here? Oh, and Mr. Wilson, don't threaten me again." She warned him and his eyes flashed. Thunder and rain. She was stuck.

"Or?" He said.

"I can always threaten back, but we are all professionals here, aren't we, Mr. Wilson?"

___