TRAPPED BY HIM

CHAPTER FOUR—Gemini

Lucas

I’ve never killed a man, and the only time I’ve had the urge to, was well…a long time ago.

Until now. At Derek’s small studio in Beverly Hills called Gemini.

Until her.

Because of her.

Helplessly, I watched the man touch her hair flirtatiously, and even worse, Cily smiled warmly at the man.

She did not smile at me, but at a stranger who looked like he’d been the butler to hitler, she was suddenly Mary Poppins with the damn smile.

“Is that your assistant? Cilyyyy?” Derek asked in a sing-song tone, his usually deep voice reduced an octave.

Groaning, I flashed him a look that I hoped was withering enough. “I asked her to come with me, and the second I look away, she’s cozying up with a total stranger.”

Derek’s short burst of laughter was purely mocking. “At least the ma is treating her way better than you could.” Derek glared at me, but he was not done talking. “I saw the way you dragged her into the gallery when you came in. Total disregard for her.”

The corners of my lips twitched in anger. Derek was never wrong, and I hated how spot on he was.

He was right of course, but in my defense the only reason I’d dragged her was because Cily had refused to come into the gallery with me, and I was in no mood to argue.

I didn’t say that to Derek though, it was his party and he could push me out if he chose to.

“Did you discuss the lawsuit with the lawyer?” I asked Derek, turning the conversation to business. I did that to stop further questions and self righteous advice, and also to stop myself from thinking about the man’s hand on the small of Cily’s back.

Precious couple of seconds passed by as I waited for Derek’s response. This lawsuit was the beginning of my plan to take my revenge.

Eventually, Derek cleared his throat and shrugged. “I tried, but it’s not looking pretty. Thomas did nothing wrong and the case you’re trying to put up, will be squashed.” To drive home his point, Derek jammed his fist into his palm, grinning like a savage.

Derek was more than a friend to me, and I cared about him, but sometimes, all I cared about was burying my fists in his face.

I gritted my teeth and grabbed the first thing I could off the waiter’s tray. I was so close.

“Where is Thomas?” I asked, downing the contents of my glass in one gulp. I hated losing, but it constantly hovered around me, like a dark cloud.

And it was all because of the sneaky old man, Thomas Tate.

“Beats me. It’s hard keeping track of the old slimeball. He’s neither here nor there.” Derek’s eyes darted around the room, like he was about to say some dreaded secret. “My guess is, he’s gotten into another illegal business and has to keep a low profile.”

“I’ll make sure to find the old man and take my revenge. He can run and hide, but I’ll find him, Derek and make him pay.”

The memories washed over me, sending cold chills down my spine and I nearly staggered as the pain hit me. No. Not now.

I fought against my own mind as flashes from that night blinded my vision. I should have been dead. But instead, I lived with a blinding headache.

All because of Thomas Tate.

Balling my hands into fists, I turned away from Derek, all the while willing myself to remain calm. Everytime I remembered that night, something died in me, and everytime I fought against getting swamped with the memories, I got migraines instead.

Deep breaths. I said adjusting my shirt and tugging at my cufflinks. The room was beginning to spin, and I could not breathe.

But as I struggled to keep it together, I saw Cily push the man away gently. The man, however, was unrelenting.

I’d been fighting to keep it together, but suddenly, I wanted to keep my fists on the man's face.

Without thinking, I walked over to Cily and the man. Cily stared at me, her eyes wide with shock, and something else—anger.

Her lips were partly opened, but she remained silent, but pleaded with me with her eyes. This was what got me going–the look in her eyes. That intense helplessness, that made me feel on top of the world.

“Get your hands away from her.” I was in no mood to play all round, and the man wisely backed away with his hands in the air. I watched him walk away with a swagger to his step, my annoyance growing.

She deserved better than Hitler’s butler.

“I didn’t need your help.” She spat out ungratefully. Her beautiful face was scrunched up angrily, which I found quite cute.

“Yes. You did.” I countered, squaring with her. Nostrils flaring, her eyes raked over me, stopping briefly at my lips, before she turned away, and threw her hair over her shoulder.

“I did not.” She was not letting up. The quivering of her lower lip, made that clear.

I wanted to do crazy things to that lip. I ached to have her moaning against me, unable to breathe.

Fuck. She was in my thoughts again. In my head. And right now, it was all muddled up in there. Painfully so.

It was hard to think straight.

“Come with me.” I grunted, struggling not to strain against the pounding in my head.

Cily sighed. “No. All day, all you’ve done is order me, and drag me without the slightest consideration for me. So no. I will not be going anywhere with you, sir.”

The venom in her tone bothered me, as did everything about her. “Stop talking and just come with me.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

It was rude to treat her this way, but the steady beating of drums in my head made me a less reasonable person. I yearned to pull her against me, something quiet.

Somewhere I could hear her moans.

Squaring her shoulders, she took a menacing step forward. “I quit.”

She was being serious, and I’d never seen her that angry. Her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets, and her voice was suddenly calm, nearly lost in the music playing in the background.

I was pinned to the spot, and held down by her sudden declaration. “No, you are not. Come with me, Cily. Now!”

But the look of disgust on Cily’s face almost pushed me to the edge. I closed the distance between us, and she took a tentative step back, away from me. That only urged me on.

“Why can't you understand that you’re my boss, not the ruler of my life.” Cily started to say. “Not the ruler of the world.”

She smelled like roses and jasmine, and her hair felt like silk against my cheek as I whispered to her.

“You’re making a scene.”

She stiffened, although I was not sure if it was because of my nearness or what I said. I hoped it was the latter. I wanted to affect her, the same way she affected me.

She opened her mouth to speak, but didnt get to say anything as a commotion at the door distracted us.

A sudden hush fell over the room as heads turned towards the entrance. The door swung open, and in came the last person I had expected to see.

The one man whom I despised more than anything in the world—Thomas freakin’ Tate.

My blood ran cold as I balled my hands into fists at my sides. What the hell was he doing here?

Cily’s breath hitched, and her eyes widened in recognition. She grinned from ear to ear, unable to stop herself from smiling.

What was going on? I thought to myself as I stood there, my eyes darting from Cily to Thomas.

Thomas’s gaze swept the room as he tugged on the lapels of his suit. He was just as I had remembered him, save for the salt and pepper stubble. His eyes landed on Cily, and for the first time, I saw warmth in his gaze.

It happened in slow motion, and when it did, I wondered why I had not realized that earlier.

Cily bounded towards Thomas, her hands stretched wide open. I knew I should not have been shocked, but the next words Cily uttered, made my blood run cold.

Daddy!

Cily's father was him.