CHAPTER 5
907 Words
Gabriel De Santis
I arched a brow at Christian, silently asking why his daughter was handing out wads of cash to waitresses and comforting strangers in bathrooms.
He only shrugged, a tired but amused look on his face.
“That’s Ivy,” he muttered. “Wild. Smart. Too soft for her own good. I blame her mother.”
I hummed. Soft?
No—what I saw was a woman who didn’t fear consequences. She was compassionate without hesitation.
A rare combination.
Christian leaned toward me, his voice dropping.
“There’s something you should know. The Moroccans have already made their move on my territories. A war is coming. I want protection for my daughter while we finalize shipments with your ports. In exchange — access to some of my territories and exclusive shipment rights.”
Now that made me pay attention.
Christian Blackwood didn’t offer such things lightly.
I clasped his hand firmly. “You’ll have my full support here. No South African will bleed on my soil. I promise you that.”
He nodded, satisfied.
Deal sealed.
And under the neat tablecloth, I felt a ripple shift the moment Ivy and her friend returned — like the atmosphere recalibrated around their presence.
---
Ivy
We slipped back into our seats, smiling politely like nothing chaotic had just happened in the bathroom. I tried to focus on the food, but my eyes kept darting around, mostly to avoid Gabriel’s intense stare.
Dad checked his watch.
“We’re ready to go, ladies.”
We gathered our things and followed him out. I was adjusting my purse strap when Gabriel’s voice cut through the room like silk-covered steel.
“I have a new club in town,” he said. “I’d like to host you there.”
His gaze locked on me like he had been waiting for that moment all evening.
I stared right back, refusing to look away first.
Dad cleared his throat, unimpressed. “They don’t need to go clubbing on a business night.”
My face fell, and apparently Dad saw it, because he sighed and added,
“They can go. But you will personally return them home. Safe.”
Gabriel inclined his head like a king accepting terms of a treaty.
“Of course.”
Dad left with his convoy, and Lila and I walked toward the elevator with Gabriel behind us.
---
Gabriel De Santis
I never walk behind anyone.
No one.
But right then?
I did.
Just so I could watch her perfect, heart-shaped ass move like a sin God didn’t approve of.
She turned, catching me staring, and I didn’t even bother to look away. Her lips parted with hesitation before she said softly:
“Please don’t fire the waitress. It wasn’t her fault.”
I pressed my lips together, fighting a smile I had no business having. I nodded once.
She smiled — small, warm, devastating.
I had to look away before I did something reckless.
Outside, I stepped into my black McLaren 720S. Ivy moved toward her SUV, but I rolled down the window.
“You’re riding with me.”
She blinked. “I—”
“Front seat,” I added when she moved toward the back.
Her jaw tightened, but she obeyed, slipping into the leather seat.
She smelled like vanilla and danger.
---
Ivy
He drove quietly for a few blocks before saying:
“You’ve got moves.”
I frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
“I know it was you and your friend at my club. Obsidian.”
My stomach dropped.
I kept a straight face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He hummed. “How about we ask your father? I’m sure he—”
“You f*cking don’t,” I snapped. “Do not use my dad to threaten me. Yes, it was me. So?”
That shut him up.
The rest of the ride was suffocating. The silence felt thick — charged — like he was holding back a storm.
When we finally stopped, I practically launched myself out of the car. He stayed in the car for a beat, then followed, eyes glued to me.
Lila joined us, and together we stepped inside.
We ordered non-alcoholic drinks at first — Dad’s rules echoing in my mind. But as soon as our glasses hit the table, I glanced at Lila.
She already smirked.
Bathroom break = code for let’s do something stupid.
We snuck vodka shots at the bar, giggling like teenagers with a death wish, then headed to the dance floor.
Music pulsed. Lights flashed.
We moved without thinking — hips swaying, hair whipping around, laughing in sync.
I was spinning when I felt it.
A presence behind me.
Heavy. Dominant. Familiar.
I turned—and collided with Gabriel’s chest.
He stared down at me with dark, unreadable contempt.
“You lied,” he said coldly.
I opened my mouth, but he kept going, voice low and steady — somehow more terrifying than yelling.
“I was worried. You’re under my watch tonight. What if something happened to you?”
My pulse ricocheted.
His eyes drifted down…
to my throat…
to the dip of my dress…
to my breasts.
Heat licked up my spine.
I suddenly felt very naked.
Very exposed.
Very aware of him.
And for the first time since meeting him…
I didn’t know whether I wanted to run away —
or closer.
- Writer
