Deal With the Devil | ✔️

Chapter Five

I put on the black cocktail dress Alexander had gotten for me. It fit like a glove, hugging in the right places. It was form fitting, but in a classy way. It hit right above my knee, fitting like a pencil skirt to show off the curves of my body. It was off the shoulder so it wrapped around my shoulders, showing all of my neck and collarbone.

I stepped into a pair of black heels that I already owned. I only wore them once and that was to an office Christmas party I had at my job back home. They lifted me up another four inches, making me considerably tall. I was already 5'6 to begin with. My hair I'd curled and I applied my makeup.

I wasn't going to get as dressed up as I was, but I wanted to do it for myself. If I was going to live here then I'd better look the part.

But I underestimated these heels and the amount of stairs Alexander had.

I groaned nearly with each step, praying to god I didn't fall.

When I got to the bottom I cheered silently in victory.

"Yes... yes, no that will not be happening." Alexander walked into the room, talking on the phone with someone. He began pacing the living room, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Dammit- can anyone do anything when I'm not there?!" He growled out.

The sound of my shoes on the hardwood floor had his eyes snap up to me. Alexander looked at me from head to toe, eyes darkening by the second. "I have to go, fix this." He said to the person on the other line, not taking his eyes off me. "You look beautiful,"

I blushed. I actually blushed. "Thanks," I mumbled awkwardly.

He walked over to me with his signature smirk. "Ready?"

I shrugged. "As I'll ever be,"

He went to reach around my to put his arm around my waist, but I quickly stepped out of his grip and glared. "Sorry, no touching," he knew exactly what he was doing by the smug look on his face.

We got off the elevator and stepped into the lobby. I could see photographers from here standing outside just waiting for Alexander to come out.

"It's going to fine, Ana." He comforted me as if he sensed I was nervous. I didn't mind him using my nickname, by the cost of this dress I guess I really shouldn't complain what he calls me.

I looked up and offered a small smile as a 'thank you'.

I stood between him and George, his hulk of a bodyguard. The doors opened and the flashes went off a longer with the dozen questions they were shouting out did they really expect anyone to answer  like this?

"Who's this flavor of the night?" One photographer called out, referring to me.

I resisted the urge to punch this man straight in his face. How could someone be so disrespectful?

As the door opened i got into the vehicle as quickly as I could in heels. George got into the drivers side and sped off the curb.

"Are you okay?" Alexander asked.

"I'm not very fond of being referred to as a 'flavor' or a 'slut'." I snapped, not meaning to direct my anger at him. I looked over at him and noticed his jaw hard. "I'm fine," I said, hoping that would make him less tense.

"Paparazzi are pigs. Don't ever let them get to your head, that's what they want." He said.

Sooner than later we pulled up to the restaurant and walked in, Alexander was nearly pressed into my side as we walked together. As we approached the table he pulled my chair out for me before taking his own seat.