𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

12. A Forbidden Attraction

"I swear he made the move first. Shoot him!" I blabbled, my mind was still dizzy with the medicines.

"What the fuck, detective?" he roared, his voice dripping with anger. His dark voice sent a chill down my spine. "And who the fuck do you think you are giving commands? They are my men, they only take orders from me."

"You don't expect me to sit and watch while you strangle me to death, do you?" I retorted, brandishing a fork and knife, ready to defend myself.

"Strangle?" he looked momentarily puzzled before shutting his eyes briefly.

"I was trying to tie your fucking hair that was getting in your food!" he snapped, shoving a black hair tie in my face as evidence. Oh.

"I thought you were going to strangle me," I frowned, feeling a hint of foolishness.

"Well now I certainly want to," he spat, pulling out a handkerchief to staunch the blood flowing down his face, his eyes throwing daggers at me. He glanced at the guards, and they obediently left after bowing.

“Turn around," he ordered, and though I hesitated, I reluctantly complied.

"How do I know you are not putting an electric wire on me that's just waiting to zap me into oblivion with a lightning bolt?” His hands halted briefly as if pondering on my words.

"Damn, why didn't I think of this before? I'll order Hunter to get that made just for you, my sweet nemesis." He assured me, before grabbing my hair softly.

"You've got a weird way of doing something good," I muttered. "Didn't you hate me or something? I mean you took my hair claw for petty reasons and now you are playing hairdresser?"

"Still hate you down to your core little kitten, but I can't tolerate messy people." He cautiously gathered my hair, his skilled fingers brushed against her skin, causing a subtle tingle to course through me, igniting a faint sense of anticipation. I bit the inside of my cheek to snap out of it.

"You really do have a rod stuck up your ass, Mr. I mean I have never seen a control freak like you—" Suddenly, his finger got tangled in a knot, and I winced.

"Ow! Be gentle!" I swatted at him.

"You have quite the audacity to swat at me. Anyone else would be six feet under if they even dared to lay a finger on me," he scoffed, as he continued to gently tug at my hair.

"Tug my hair one more time, and I'll slice your fingers Julian-style and stick them to your head," I threatened, my glare filled with hostility.

"No need to pull out your fangs, little devil. I only enjoy tugging hair in bed." he winked, tying the hair tie around my hair.

"Perverted asshole." I muttered. He dipped to my ear, and I could feel his hot breath tickle the back of my neck. What the fuck is he doing? Is he smelling my hair like a creep again?

"There. Now you can eat your food in peace." His tone was strangely soft and sweet. It caught me off guard, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of warmth toward him. But I quickly snapped out of it. I couldn't let my guard down. God, why did he have to save my life? Now I feel indebted to this asshole.

"So…" he drawled and I furrowed my brows, cutting into the pancakes.

"What?"