CHAPTER 20
2316 Words
Perv’s POV
“ALRIGHT—wine, table setting, plates, dishes, scented candles, wine glasses, and all the necessary utensils. Oh, and table napkins too.” I paused, stepping back to admire my work before flashing a satisfied grin. “Perfect!”
I was about to light the candles when a firm, unmistakably masculine knock echoed through the room. It couldn’t be Saphire. She wouldn’t knock like that.
Lowering the matchstick, I walked over and pulled open the door.
“Good evening, young master,” Jims greeted with a respectful bow, his six companions following suit.
“What are you all doing here, Jims? Get in, before someone sees you,” I muttered, stepping aside to let them in.
As soon as they entered, their gazes immediately landed on the carefully set dining table.
“Wow, wrong timing. Looks like you have a date,” Jims teased with a knowing smirk.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I do. So, let’s make this quick. She’ll be here any minute.” The irritation I initially felt at their sudden arrival started to fade. After all, Jims was the closest thing I had to family.
“Relax, Tristan. We just wanted to check in on you.”
I scoffed. “Jesus! You’d know if I wasn’t okay because I’d be the first to call you.”
Jims chuckled before his expression turned playful. “So… this girl. Is she worth it? Beautiful? What’s her rating?”
I smirked, leaning against the table. “More than worth it. She’s not just anyone—she’s someone.”
Jims raised an eyebrow. “That serious, huh? Should I call your parents and let them know?”
I shot him a glare. “Why ask a question when you already know the answer?”
“Just kidding, Tristan.” He sighed, his voice turning serious. “I know you’ll forgive them eventually. You’re a Thron and a Beaurlington. Greatness runs in your blood, even if it sometimes clashes with your nature.”
I scoffed. “I just need time… time to hear their apology.”
Jims patted my shoulder with a reassuring smile. “That’s all we needed to hear. We’ll be going now. Call us if you need anything.”
As they turned to leave, a thought struck me. “Jims, wait!”
He halted, looking back. “Yes, young master?”
“Can you send my car here?”
He chuckled. “Which one?”
I hesitated. My Ferrari? Lexus? Porsche? Maybe the sports car?
“The Porsche,” I finally decided. It was sleek, gray, and perfect for tonight.
Jims grinned. “Right away.”
Before they could leave, I added, “Just leave the keys under the flower pot down the hall. I don’t want to be disturbed later.”
“Yes, young master.” With that, they disappeared down the corridor.
Glancing at the clock, I cursed under my breath. Eight already?!
I rushed to light the scented candles, the warm glow adding a touch of intimacy to the setting. My outfit was simple but elegant—a black polo shirt with the first three buttons undone, sleeves folded just right, perfectly fitting without being too tight. Paired with white pants, a black wristband, my watch, and my signature necklace, I was ready.
Now, all that was left was to wait.
Saphire’s POV
“Gats, are you sure about this?” Ruby asked for the hundredth time, her voice laced with concern.
I simply smiled. “There’s no harm in giving it a try.”
“You little witch,” she huffed, pouting. “I haven’t even had my turn, and here you are, claiming the prize.”
Smirking, I playfully smacked her arm.
“Ow!” she whined, throwing me a deadly glare.
“I’m heading out. Call Dad for me, will you?” I grabbed my bag, adjusting the strap over my shoulder.
“Fine, fine,” she said before pulling me in for a quick hug. “Be careful!” she called after me as I made my way down the stairs.
The moment I reached the living room, my personal security detail—Mr. Guiller and the rest of my father’s former henchmen—immediately stood to attention.
“Let’s go,” I ordered.
Mr. Guiller nodded, opening the car door for me. As the driver navigated the streets toward Pervince’s condo, I found myself glancing at my reflection in the window, suddenly self-conscious.
I wore a fitted blue floral shirt, dark navy jeans, and dark brown sandals, layered with a black blazer. My leather shoulder bag matched my sandals perfectly.
Noticing Mr. Guiller’s curious glance, I quickly tucked my mirror away, pretending I hadn’t just been fussing over my appearance.
Staring out the window, I let my thoughts wander. What was going to happen tonight? It felt strange, me heading to his place instead of the other way around. But there was something about Pervince—something I wanted to confirm for myself.
“Lady Saphire, we’ve arrived,” Mr. Guiller announced, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Alright.” I shifted closer to the door, and as soon as he opened it, I stepped out.
Just as I turned toward the building, I hesitated, glancing back at him. “You may leave now. I’ll text you when I’m ready to be picked up. I’ll be here for a while.”
“But, Lady Saphire, your father ordered us to stay and—”
I cut him off. “I am ordering you. My father isn’t here. I’m safe.”
They exchanged uneasy glances before sighing in defeat. The looks on their faces made it seem like the world was ending, but I ignored them and headed inside.
Taking the elevator up, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off my nerves. Why am I acting like a teenage girl?
The elevator doors opened with a chime, and as I stepped out, I noticed a group of men leaving Pervince’s condo. Seven of them, dressed in dark, almost mafia-like attire. The way one of them—the apparent leader—looked at me sent a shiver down my spine. Not in a creepy way, but as if he was assessing me.
I quickly knocked on Pervince’s door, and just as he opened it, the elevator doors slid shut behind me. Letting out a breath, I turned my attention back to him.
“Hi,” he greeted with a smile before leaning in to plant a quick kiss on my lips.
I smiled back. “Hi.”
“Come in.” He took my bag and set it down on the sofa, but my attention was already elsewhere.
My eyes landed on the beautifully arranged dining table, the soft flicker of scented candles casting a warm glow over the space.
He noticed my reaction and grinned, leading me toward the table. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” I breathed, closing my eyes briefly to take in the intoxicating scent in the air.
“Scented candles?” I asked, turning to him with a teasing smile.
“Yes.”
“Azalea?”
“Yes.” His eyes gleamed with satisfaction at my delight.
He pulled out my chair, gesturing for me to sit before taking his own seat across from me. With a simple hand gesture, he signaled for us to begin.
We talked, we laughed, and for the first time in a long time, I felt completely absorbed in the moment. His voice, his presence—it was hypnotic, almost intoxicating.
I wasn’t just listening to him. I was feeling him.
And maybe… just maybe… I was falling for him.
Perv’s POV
The laughter between us gradually faded, replaced by a comfortable silence. We had finished our meal, and as I wiped my lips with the napkin, I glanced at her. The soft glow of the scented candles illuminated her features, making her look even more mesmerizing.
The wine bottle stood empty. A sign that the night was only just beginning.
"Shall we move to the sofa?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.
She nodded, about to rise from her seat, but I gently held her back.
"Wait."
A hint of curiosity flickered in her eyes as I stood up, stepping closer. Without another word, I slid one arm under her thighs, the other supporting her back, and lifted her effortlessly. A surprised giggle escaped her lips as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
"Do you always do this?" she asked, her voice carrying amusement.
"Only with you," I murmured, pressing a light kiss to the bridge of her nose.
Her cheeks flushed at my gesture, making me smile in satisfaction.
I carried her over to the sofa, setting her down gently before taking a seat beside her.
"Do you want to watch a movie?" I suggested.
"Sure. What do you have?" she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Smirking, I got up and pulled a stack of DVDs from my shelf, handing them over. She flipped through them, stopping at one particular title.
"'Lie With Me'?" she read aloud, lifting an eyebrow. "What's the genre?"
"I’m not sure. Haven’t seen it yet." I took the case from her hands, sliding the disc into the player. My lips curled in amusement. Of course, I knew what kind of film it was—I just wanted to see how she'd react to it.
As the movie started, she gave me a side glance. "Why are you smiling?"
"Am I?" I feigned innocence.
"Yes, you are," she said, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless.
I let out a low chuckle and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She didn't resist, even resting her head lightly against my chest.
"Want me to turn off the lights? It'll feel more like a real movie theater."
"Up to you," she said with a small grin.
I stood up and flicked off the lights, leaving only the glow of the screen to cast shadows across the room. When I returned to the sofa, the film had already begun.
The opening scene played out—Leila, the protagonist, stretched out on a couch, her lips slightly parted, her fingers slipping beneath her clothing as she watched an explicit video.
I felt her shift beside me.
"An erotic film?" she mused, glancing at me.
I turned to her with a slow smirk, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Let’s just watch."
She exhaled a soft chuckle but didn’t protest.
I adjusted my hold on her, resting her head more securely against my shoulder. The movie continued, the atmosphere in the room growing heavier. The sound of breathy moans filled the silence.
"Should I order a pizza?" I asked, my voice huskier than intended.
She shook her head. "No, I'm full."
I nodded, but my focus was no longer on the film.
On-screen, the characters were tangled together in the dimly lit corner of a room, lost in the heat of their own world. I swallowed hard. The tension coiling inside me was undeniable, and I instinctively buried my face into her hair, inhaling the soft, intoxicating scent of her shampoo.
My fingers brushed against her thigh, trailing lightly over the fabric of her jeans.
Damn. Why did she have to wear jeans?
"Can we take off our clothes?" I murmured, my voice deep with intent.
She turned to face me, amusement dancing in her eyes. "No."
I sighed dramatically, pressing my forehead against the back of her head in mock frustration.
She’s unaffected? Impossible. If I know anything about women, they never show it outright.
The movie carried on, and so did the explicit scenes. My body’s reaction was undeniable. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay composed, but every stolen glance at her only made it worse.
"Hon," I murmured.
She looked at me, confused. "Hon?"
"That’s what I’m calling you from now on."
She laughed lightly. "A pet name? Why, are you my boyfriend now?" she teased.
"Do you not want me to be?" I shot back.
She didn't answer—just smiled and turned back to the screen.
"Silence means yes," I teased.
"Shh. I'm watching," she scolded playfully, but the way she nestled further into my chest betrayed her words.
I smirked. "Alright, hon."
She only chuckled and relaxed against me.
At that moment, it felt official. Maybe we never had a formal agreement, but in my mind, she was already mine.
But damn, she was really into this movie. I wasn't sure if she was enjoying the story or just the experience of watching something so intimate with me. Either way, I found myself watching her more than the screen.
"Hon," I said again, this time more seriously.
She turned to look at me.
"Can we strip?" I asked, my voice low, almost pleading.
She held my gaze, the flickering light from the screen casting shadows over her expression. A moment passed—one that felt like an eternity.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"Get a blanket."
I was on my feet in an instant, grabbing one from the nearby armchair. By the time I returned, she had already stood up.
And then, without hesitation, she peeled off her clothes.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched her, my body going taut with anticipation. She stripped down completely—her shirt, her jeans, her undergarments—until there was nothing left between us but the dim light and unspoken words.
I followed suit, letting my own clothes fall to the floor before slipping under the blanket with her.
She settled back into my arms, her bare skin warm against mine.
Beneath the cover of the soft fabric, my body pulsed with restrained hunger, but I remained still, waiting.
- Writer
