𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐭

12

Atreus' POV

I laid awake in bed anxious for my date tomorrow. I spent all day today at work trying to put together the perfect thing and I think I succeeded, well at least I hope so.

I needed it to be perfect, well, the best it could be, I wanted to impress her.

My phone lit up in the dark room pulling me from my thoughts.

Dariya
What do I wear for this date?

'Noth-' No Atreus.

Me
Semi-formal.

Dariya
Does that entail heels?

Me
Whatever you want, just not too formal and not too casual.

Dariya
Hmm, okay. My address: ....

Me
I'll be there at 6.

My happy state from her texting me soon vanished when a notification popped up on the screen.

"Vultures." I muttered under my breath watching the pictures of Dariya and I as soon as we left the building till, she left in her car.

As I scrolled down, I came across a video which I immediately pressed. It was a video of us making out from a different angle than the pictures were taken.

'Things seem to be heating up with New York finest gentleman and our favourite F1 racer. She didn't mention anything about this in her latest interview, laughing off the question she was asked.

Reporter: What are the details about you and New York's sexiest bachelor?

Dariya laughed softly at the question before saying, "Nothing honestly."

The reporter never asked again. We just may have to wait until her next interview.'

Why would they even care so much about her personal life when she was going better things for herself that deserved all the recognition? That small fact got me so angry.

Fucking bitches.

-

"Are you leaving with us son?" My father asked me as we walked through the reception area to the elevator.

"No, I actually have a date tonight."

"Another one? You are good son." My father praised, chuckling lightly.

"I suppose I am." I said, smiling proudly.

"Better that your father." My mother said.

"I was only 17 Sloan, things have changed since then, you know that." He said to her faking exasperation, winking at her suggestively.

My mother slapped him on the chest walking off ahead of us, to the elevator.

"Women." He said quietly to me, shaking his head at my mother's retreating figure.

It didn't go unnoticed by her as she stopped mid stride, turning around and staring at him with that terrifying calmness. Without a word she turned and continued to the elevator.