𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟓 | 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

song: doma cyno - perceive

⋆･𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞･⋆

This is why I'm giving up on being a gentleman. I straight up offered her my hand and she yanked past me while flipping her hair over her bare shoulder. Now she's sitting in my car, clanking her heels together.

"Are there really that many conditions that we need a whole dinner for them?" She glances my way, while I continue looking at the road.

"Maybe." I reply shortly.

Truth be told, I don't exactly know what I'm doing. After our office meeting, I told Gianna I need to speak to her in private and discuss our own terms. She was hesitant at first, but she agreed to the dinner invitation later on. All restaurants were fully booked when I made calls, but thankfully having the reputation that I have, they cleared out the restaurant for us. And this dinner isn't about finding common ground - it's about seizing control, about plotting my escape from the suffocating grip of our fathers' and my machinations. And if that means making her life hell, then so be it. I couldn't care less about it, as I've got a shit ton of other things on my plate already.

As I navigate through the streets, a bitter realization settles in my mind like a heavy fog. I don't even know what terms I'd want to lay out for Gianna. In an ideal world, I'd demand nothing more than her silence and absence from my life. But the reality of our situation is far more complex.

A week ago, she was nothing more than a fleeting annoyance, easily brushed aside, even though I bought her a luxury, just because I felt like being nice. Now, with the weight of a marriage contract looming over us, every interaction feels like a potential bomb ready to explode. Her witty tongue and quick responses are like nails on a chalkboard to me, and the thought of spending any significant amount of time with her fills me with a simmering rage. I get annoyed easily and if she just so much as talks back to me, I wouldn't hesitate to throw her under a speeding truck.

But despite my mounting frustration, I can't afford to abandon my facade of civility just yet. I may be seething internally, but outwardly, I must maintain the appearance of a gentleman. After all, there are still rules of decorum to uphold.

From the corner of my eye, I can see her checking the main mirror a few times.

"I think we are being followed." She turns toward me. "You can throw hands, right?" Her eyes scan me.

"It's Dean. He follows me everywhere." I explain.

"But can you fight?" She pushes further and I'm this close to rolling my eyes.

"Yes Gianna, I can fight just fine." I exhale.

"Why is he there then? To make sure I don't kill you or something?" She prompts her right hand onto the dashboard. I glance her way, and something tugs upwards on my lips. Did she just suggest she could kill me?

"Or something." I reply, slightly amused for the first time in a week.

The rest of the drive is silent, thank God. I love silence, it makes me feel at peace. As we turn left, the restaurant comes into view, perched above Manhattan. It's owned by one of my mutual business partners, ensuring we have a prime spot reserved. Pulling up in front of the main entrance, I step out of the car. I can feel Gianna's eyes on me, observing my every move. Just as she reaches for the door handle, I beat her to it and open the door for her.

"I could've done that myself," she says, irritation evident in her tone.

"Fine, as you wish," I reply, meeting her gaze with a weary sigh. She simply shrugs and runs a hand through her hair before moving to exit the car. Before she can do so, I close the passenger door and wait for her to throw a tantrum.