The Lonely King

Chapter Eighteen

It's been pretty quiet since the hospital incident, with the exception of planing my new restaurant. Sometimes I would wonder if he would ever confess his feelings, and other times I would wonder how long I should stay in his life.

As I looked around the empty but grand layout of the restaurant to be, I felt a small warmth of gratitude that I had this opportunity to own an upscale restaurant in an expensive part of New York, all thanks to one man.

The air smelled of fresh paint, the floor was covered with sheer white plastic, and the walls shimmer in the evening sun, filtering through the windows. It was quite, in a peaceful way, if I didn't think about all the noxious fumes I was inhaling.

The click of the door startled me. Who could that be? Nick wasn't coming by and Ryan and Lily are busy.

I recognized the sandy blond hair and deep brown eyes almost immediately. One of my coworkers, or should I say former coworker.

"Um, hi," He waved awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Hello, May I help you?" I asked.

"I finally found you," he swiped imaginary sweat off his forehead, "You suddenly disappeared from the company, and I told myself I would tell you this before either one of us left," he started.

"Okay..."

"Listen," he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest, "you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I wanted to tell you I had feelings for you for so long, but I was scared to get rejected. Would you go out with me? On a date?"

His cheeks burned red, and I could feel his heart pounding. My mind was so foggy. How could I not have noticed? Why didn't he tell me sooner? What was it with men keeping their feelings to themselves? Couldn't he just say them out loud?!

Okay... so that might be about someone else. I couldn't get Nick's face out of my mind. Could I really go on a date with him and give up on Nick? Just one date wouldn't hurt. Nick probably wouldn't even care.

"I-"

"Get your fucking hands off her. Now."

Oh no.

Our heads snapped to a fuming Nick. He stomped over and pushed the man who previously had his arms around me off and grabbed my upper arm and started dragging me out of the building.

"Wait! Nick!" I shouted, tripping over my own feet.

He proceeded with his angry pace, gripping my forearm a little too tightly. He opened his car door with a little too much force and shoved me inside. I flinched as I heard the door slam closed.

He roughly grabbed my waist and pulled me up, keeping me at his side. He took out his phone and angrily barked out orders to his men to lock up the restaurant and cancel a meeting for tonight.

Once he was done, I moved my eyes up toward his face, "Nick,"

"Don't say anything," he growled.

His tone shut me right up. I felt guilty even though I didn't do anything wrong. It's not like he wants me.

The ride was awkward. He sat there with his death grip on my hip, anger and fury swirling in his eyes. I sat there worrying about what he was going to do to me. Even though in the back of my mind I was hoping he would share his feelings, I was still scared of what he could do to me. He is the mafia king. He could do anything.

Once the car came to a stop, Nick roughly opened the door and dragged me out my my upper arm. He led me up to our bedroom. The maids giving me sympathetic looks as I stumbled to keep up with him.