Chapter 3: There's never be us!

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"They were like two magnets who couldn't decide whether to attract or repel." ― Jay Asher

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Natalia's POV

"Put me down, Rafael," I said, mustering a cold, bored tone as I struggle out of his hold. He tightens his hold on me, and stops in front of my bedroom door then he spoke calmly.

"Just open the damn door, please ..." his tone were clipped, and I could feel his patience wearing off.

I stared at his eyes squarely, instilling in my head that he is a fake, and I should stop seeing him. I need to control my emotions around him. I can't just be his toy anymore. I won't let him continue using me. I won't be his cover-up anymore, nor I will be a part of his dirty games.

I met with his eyes that were cold, piercing through my soul and I felt like it's undressing me within, I feel naked. It feels like she can read me all throughout.

I search for any familiar emotions in his orbs, but I felt disappointed. It was well-masked, I couldn't penetrate that wall of ice, he masterly established around it.

His eyes that I thought was ocean blue, but it was not. They were cerulean with a green ring on it. He got it from his mother's blood. The Markovich is known for their cerulean eyes. It was beautiful, just like the ocean, and I'm always hypnotized whenever I stared at it.

And, when he stared at me, raw, my heart goes haywire. I felt like, butterflies just erupted in my stomach. My adrenalin spiked up through my body uncontrollably.

His cerulean eyes were adorned with long, thick lashes, emphasizing his cool, expressive eyes. His strong angular jaw, dipped chin, regal nose, prominent brow, had me worked up most of the time, the butterflies in my stomach were more like displaced hornets.

I was always fully convinced that he'd be the hottest person I'd ever met, and I always tells my friend how I am so lucky to have him, but today, I am convinced how I am unfortunate to be his cover up, a play toy and a stupid girl who regards him of his best physical attributes and not his inside beauty.

He's just another arrogant, asswipe who is spoilt and a user.

"Open the door, Iya!" His deep and husky tone drags me out of my trains of thoughts. My eyebrows furrowed and I scowled at him.

"Just put me down!" I hissed and I squirmed out of his hold.

He let out a frustrated sigh and finally, he put me down on my feet. As soon as my heel touch the floor, I quickly stood upright and opened my door. I hastily walk inside, and about to shut it in his face but he was quick.

His right foot blocked the door before I could close it. He invited himself in, to my chagrin, and his eyes scanned my room.

He has been inside my room once so he's familiar with. "Still pink everywhere, huh? Too girly!" he grimaced.

"You may leave, your grace and thank you for the wonderful night!" I said impulsively. I couldn't contain the sarcasm in my tone.

"I will call you when I get back to Russia, pumpkin," he said casually as he turns on his heel towards the door.

My temper flared up. Can't he understand?

"Don't ever call me, your grace. As I have said, we are over." I softly reprimanded in my cold bored tone. I turned towards my walk-in closet to avoid looking at his imposing figure.

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