...
........
She raised an eyebrow, her expression remaining unreadable behind the shifting veil of smoke. She took another slow drag, the tip of her cigarette burning a fierce, molten orange that reflected in the dark depths of her pupils.
" The silence that followed wasn't heavy—at least, not for me. It was like a high-stakes pause in a song I already knew the lyrics to.
Slowly, her lips curled. It wasn't a full smile; it was a ghost of a smirk, sharp as a glass shard."
"You think this is some kind of game?" she asked, her voice dropping into a register that would have made a lesser man's knees buckle. She gestured around the room with a lazy, elegant sweep of her hand, her manicured fingers flicking ash onto the black marble. It looked like fallen stardust against the dark stone.
"You've been winning all night," she continued, her tone shifting from silk to steel. "But you don't even know whose table you're sitting at. You don't know who you're playing with."
" She leaned forward, the white fur of her coat sliding down her shoulders like melting snow. The distance between us closed until I could smell the sharp tang of the bourbon on her breath and the sweet, dark notes of her perfume. Her eyes locked onto mine, predatory and piercing, searching for a crack in my armor. "
"Tell me," she breathed, the smoke from her lips curling around my face. "What's your name?"...
He didn't flinch. In fact, he leaned in just a fraction closer, matching her intensity with a look that suggested he was enjoying the view a little too much for someone in his position.
His lips quarved into an playful smile, staring in her deep and beautiful eye's and mumbled huskily -
" Miss Evelyn! First off all, you got me dragged here by your man's forcefully without any proper reasons, and you say i cheated, but do you have any proof? "
Evelyn nerrowed her eyes, not backing away from his question,
" And about my name, you can call me honey or sweatheart whatever you like " -
He added.
Evelyn breathed heavily and leaned away, back from his face Against her chair, staring at him with intensity that could burn hell...
- " you're quite confident on yourself, sweatheart "
- she grind last word like she could chew him just exactly same!
- I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I let out a soft, tittering laugh and pushed off the marble desk. With a stride that was entirely too casual for a man in a locked room, I circled her chair. I didn't rush. I walked like a man taking a stroll through a private garden, eventually coming to a stop directly behind her.
She nerrowed her eyes into slits surprised by his action, but didn't move or spoke anything, still maintaing her composer...
- I watched the way the firelight danced on the back of her neck. Then, with agonizing slowness, I reached out. My fingers sank into the expensive fabric of her coat, finding the tension held in her shoulders. I began to knead the muscle, my touch firm but rhythmic, a slow, deliberate massage.
" Well shouldn't i be? It's not like I'm a criminal and anyways, I'm too handsome and charming to be scared " I mumbled softly, leaning down until my breath stirred the stray hairs near her ear. "Though, having your men drag me out here was a bit dramatic, don't you think? We could have just shared a private room to talk privately...."
Evelyn stiffened instantly. The cigarette in her hand froze inches from her lips, the thin trail of smoke rising in a perfectly straight line. I felt the sudden rigidity in her spine, a silent electric shock of surprise. Her gaze flicked down to my hands on her shoulders, then tracked back toward me, her eyes reflecting the dangerous embers of the fireplace, she had seen different- different man's and had dealt with them but it was the first time she was facing someone as shameless and careless as him.
" She didn't pull away, but her fingers tightened around her cigarette until I thought it might snap."
"You have some nerve," she hissed through gritted teeth. Her voice was no longer a purr; it was the low, guttural warning of a predator.
She exhaled sharply, a cloud of grey smoke curling around her face like a storm front. "I don't like being touched without permission." He muttered while holding back her Anger!
Her tone went from ice to absolute zero, laced with a promise of violence. "Remove your hands. Now. Or it wouldn't take much time for my men to make you regret your choice. They're very good at making regrets permanent."
I didn't pull back. Instead, I let my thumbs graze the base of her neck in lingering caress, my expression remaining completely unbothered, almost dreamy, i leaned down brushing my lips softly to her hairs on her elegant nape of neck.
"You're so tense, Evelyn," I whispered, my voice a playful contrast to her icy threat. "All that power must be heavy to carry.".
Her jaw clenched, the sharp line of her cheekbones becoming even more pronounced in the flickering firelight. Slowly, like a predator tracking a movement in the grass, she turned her head toward him. Her icy glare didn't just look at him; it pierced through him, searching for the slightest tremor of fear that wasn't there.
"You're either very brave," she whispered, the words vibrating with a lethal edge, "or very foolish."
Before he could offer another witty retort, her free hand shot up with the speed of a striking viper. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, her grip possessing a surprising, wiry strength that dug into his skin with a firm, almost painful pressure.
She didn't just hold him; she anchored him, her nails grazing the pulse point of his arm.
"Last chance," she gritted out, her face hardening from anger as she stared him up behind her throne like chair . "Take your hands off me."
Her eyes, dark and unforgiving, dared him to defy her—practically begging him to give her a reason to call the guards back through those mahogany doors, she didn't wanted to loose her composer bcz of him and infront of him, barely holding her anger....
He, however, didn't flinch. He merely looked down at the hand gripping his wrist, his smile widening into something more boyish and daring. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the tension in the room coiled like a spring ready to snap, yet he remained remarkably, maddeningly relaxed.
He tilted his head, his gaze dropping to her lips before meeting her eyes again with a playful glint.
"You have a very firm handshake, Evelyn," he remarked, his voice smooth and entirely too cheerful for a man being threatened with a permanent end. "But you know, for someone who hates being touched, you're holding onto me pretty tight."
He smirked, refusing to yield an inch of ground. Instead of pulling away, he leaned down further, his face hovering just past the veil of her cigarette smoke until their gazes were locked in a silent, high-stakes battle.
"Are you sure you're that dangerous?" he mused, brushing his lips on her beautiful and porcelain skin forhead, his voice a low, teasing vibration. He didn't seem to notice the way her nails dug into his skin. "Because for someone so 'deadly,' your skin is actually a lot softer than most women I've met. It's a bit of a giveaway, don't you think?"
Evelyn froze. It was as if the air in the room had turned to liquid nitrogen. Her grip tightened further, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed his wrist with enough force to leave a mark that would last for days. Her eyes flashed with something volatile—a dark, swirling mixture of genuine fury and a cold, unreadable curiosity.
"You think you can charm me with pretty words?" she sneered, her lip curling in a way that was meant to be a warning but only made her look more like a dark goddess of the underworld.
*He grinned mischievously still holding her*
She leaned back just enough to look him in the eye, her voice dropping to a lethal, jagged whisper that seemed to vibrate against his very bones.
"I've killed men for far less than what you're doing right now," she hissed, the scent of jasmine and tobacco thick between them.
"I've killed men for far less than what you're doing right now," she hissed, the scent of jasmine and tobacco thick between them.
The silence that followed was heavy with the unspoken command of a woman used to being feared. She didn't blink. She didn't move. She simply held his wrist like a trophy she was about to snap.
"Try me," she challenged.
He didn't pull back. If anything, he looked like he was enjoying the pressure. He let his gaze drop to her tightening grip and then back to her eyes, his expression one of pure, amused intrigue.
"Is that an invitation, Evelyn?" he asked, his voice remains maddeningly playful. "Because you're making it very hard for a guy to play hard to get."
He didn't just ignore the threat; he leaned right into the heart of the storm. A boyish, daring smile split his face as he reached out with his free hand. Before she could react, he gave her cheek a soft, playful pinch, his fingers grazing that "soft skin" he'd just been mocking.
"Haha!" He chuckled softly, the sound rich with genuine amusement as if they were sharing a joke over drinks rather than a death warrant. "You're threatening me with that expression? It's hard to take you seriously when you look that cute while trying to be scary, Evelyn."
The effect was instantaneous. Evelyn froze, a brief, sharp flicker of genuine surprise shattering her icy mask. A faint, crimson flush crept up her cheeks—a rare crack in the armor of the Queen of the Velvet Spade.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Her breathing hitched, her eyes widened as she stared blankly in his eyes, with unreadable expression, he smirked and slide his free arm wrapping around her slander waist and leaned down his head, staring in her eyes so closely he can smell her scent mixed with ciggerate smell -
" You're the most beautiful women i ever saw you know that!, you're really cute ".
To be continue...
Thanks for reading the chapter.....