Madelaina :
"Excuse me?"
"You're coming with me." He repeats.
"My driver will-"
"Your driver isn't coming. My father called me, he's with yours and he's asked me to bring you home."
"But-"
"Get in."
Dio, let me speak, you ass.
"What if I don't want to?" I raise my brows and lift my chin.
"I don't care."
"Wha-"
"Get in the car."
I turn to Angel, eyes desperate.
The only response i get is an amused look.
"Sorry, Princess. I would take you instead but I'd rather not go against your father's requests. I wouldn't want to give a bad impression now, would I?"
I give a huff and switch back to Lucas.
"I thought you didn't like people in your car?"
"I don't." His gaze narrows and his jaw locks. "But I'm not in the mood for arguments. So, get in the car."
Not really in the mood to argue either, I begrudgingly begin to stomp over to the open door before Angel's voice stops me.
"Forgetting something, Princess?"
I look at him with confusion.
"No."
"You sure about that?"
"Yeah."
He motions for me to come back over.
When I reach him, he manoeuvres his arm out of the open window and takes my phone from my hand.
"Hey!"
"Angel!" Lucas warns from where he stands.
"Shhhh." He silences us, taking a few more seconds before handing my phone back to me.
Looking down, I see that he's added his number to my phone and has already messaged himself.
I click on it and all but roll my eyes when I see the text.
Angel, you are the best and most amazing and hottest person to ever walk this earth.
Navigating my vision to the name he's given himself, I almost choke on a laugh.
Your friendly neighbourhood Greek God.
This boy.
"Greek God." I deadpan.
"Well, if you insist, Princess."
My eyes find the back of my head for a second time before I turn to Lucas's car and slide in.
He shuts the door and walks over to Angel's open window.
He leans down and places his arms over the door frame.
It is clear that they're having a conversation but I cannot tell what kind.
Their faces are emotionless. Masks to the words that are leaving them.
After a minute or so. He returns and gets into the driver's seat.
"Bye, Princess! Try not to miss me too much!" Angel shouts as he drives off.
And now I'm left with this sack of joy.
If joy can be described as the foulest mood to ever exist in the history of young narcissists everywhere.
YOU ARE READING
Belladonna (Billionaire Boys Club #1)
Teen FictionTwo families The son of one The daughter of the other One, the dark prince of the world in which they live The other, the queen in a world that is entirely her own He is seen and worshipped by all who meet him She is invisible and lives in the...
