𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟐𝟏 | 𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐲

𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐙

Many emotions race through me, yet one stands out the most out of all others.

The feeling of need and desire.

A need to know what Nikolai has shoved up his sleeve right now as he walks behind me into the fancy restaurant, making it seem like neither of us know eachother as he completely ignores my existence.

The desire I currently obtain to have an insight in what Nikolai wants to do, with me or this situation. Maybe even both.

I sound absolutely pathetic, pining over a man who seems to only want to play games and has no other interest apart from for filling his needs to be in control of everything.

I refuse to allow myself to steep so low as to beg for him to tell me what he's doing and what he plans to do. I don't want him to even have the thought of me perhaps liking him, because I don't. All I even feel for him is sexual desire.

A desire that is so strong that whenever I'm around him, I feel myself psychically cave for him. It's dangerous, yet I continue to yearn for it. I hate both myself and him.

Mostly him.

As my brother continues to accompany me to my table, no words are exchanged. We're both thinking of separate things. His probably consist of ways to kill anyone who dares to go a metre near his baby sister. Whereas my thoughts are immensely crude. Ones that I wish I never have again.

But I know I'm stupid to even think that. I'm not oblivious, I know me and Nikolai both hold some strange sexual tension between us. And we're both not stupid enough to ignore it, it's a fling for both of us. One that I'll never see going anywhere.

"Adrianna." The Italian voice disrupts my thoughts and I immediately feel regret rush through me as Lorenzo reaches for my hand. However, I quickly snatch it from his reach and pull my own chair out and sit down, completely ready for this to be over.

"No need for such a greeting. Sit." I gesture towards the chair sitting directly opposite mine, across the square table.

Lorenzo wastes no time as he sees I have no time for his bullshit, and he follows my instructions as he sits like a lost little puppy. His face carries an expression of fright, almost like he believes I'm close to stabbing him with the utensils laid out on the napkins.

He's not entirely wrong.

The man let's out a cough, signifying how awkward this situation is for him. However for me, it's anything but. I feel more bored and agitated than awkward. I couldn't care as to how I present myself in front of such a fool.

I scan the interior of the restaurant. If I wasn't forced into a, dare I say it, date, I would be entirely in awe of the true beauty of it. The ceilings are covered in miniature white lights, imitating stars in the sky. The tables intricately decorated with beautiful fake white rose peonies.

Whoever designed the entire inside of this restaurant deserve the fattest pay rise that exists. They dedicated their whole leg and arm just to ensure the customers are happy with how everything in here looks.

As I continue to scan the immense beauty of the decor, I catch the sight of the Russian man clad in a black suit, a red tie visible from underneath his fastened blazer. The tie is an identical match in colour to my dress, and I begin to wonder if he did this on purpose.