Men Are Prada Shoes

CHAPTER 13

ALINA

Alex picked me up for the birthday celebration just like I had asked him to.

Well, calling it a request would be stretching the truth.

The moment the car rolled into the long driveway, cameras immediately began flashing from every direction. Alex stepped out first, straightening his suit before making his way around the vehicle. He opened my door with an exaggerated display of gentlemanly charm and offered me his hand.

Forcing a smile onto my face, I accepted it.

The second my hand slipped into his, he tightened his grip and guided me toward the decorated entrance of the hall. Everywhere we went, people greeted him warmly. He smiled back, shook hands, and posed effortlessly for the paparazzi who seemed determined to capture every second of his arrival.

To anyone watching, we probably looked like an actual couple.

The thought almost made me laugh.

"Come with me," Alex murmured near my ear as we stepped into the crowded ballroom.

The hall was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting golden light across the room. Expensive gowns and tailored suits filled every corner, while soft music drifted through the air. It was the kind of event reserved for the rich, powerful, and influential.

Alex leaned closer than necessary as he guided me through the crowd.

"I'll introduce you to the people who matter," he said.

I glanced at him, unsure whether he was joking or being serious.

A chuckle escaped him, though I didn’t hear anything remotely funny.

With a dramatic sweep of his hand, he gestured around the room. "Look around," he said proudly. "Without me, you wouldn't be able to enter a place like this. Stay close to me, be loyal, and I'll make sure more doors open for you in the future."

My jaw nearly clenched shut.

The arrogance.

I took a slow breath, forcing myself to remain calm. The last thing I needed was to cause a scene in the middle of a room filled with influential people and hungry reporters.

Instead, I focused on scanning the crowd, desperately searching for a reason to escape his side.

Then I saw him.

A pair of familiar blue eyes locked onto mine from across the room.

My breath caught.

For a moment, everything around me seemed to fade into the background.

He was standing several feet away, his expression unreadable as he watched us.

More specifically, he was watching Alex.

His gaze moved from me to Alex, who was still standing far too close for comfort. Then his eyes returned to mine.

Something dark flickered across his face.

I couldn't tell whether it was annoyance, curiosity, or something else entirely.

Without breaking eye contact, I leaned slightly toward Alex.

"I just spotted someone I know," I said softly. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to go over and say hello."

Alex immediately turned his head toward me, far too quickly. For one horrifying second, it looked as though he was about to kiss me.

Instinctively, I jerked backward.

His eyebrows rose. "You know someone here?"

I stared at him.

Surely he wasn't serious.

Did he honestly think he is the only person I know in a room full of hundreds of guests?

The man never fails to amaze me with his ego.

Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I gently slipped out of Alex's hold and offered him a polite smile. "I think I can manage socializing on my own tonight," I said sweetly.

His eyes immediately narrowed. "Are you ditching me?"

A laugh almost escaped me. "I agreed to come here as your date," I reminded him. "I never agreed to spend the entire evening attached to your side."

The muscles in his jaw tightened.

"I hate clingy men, Alex," I continued. "And I sincerely hope you're not one of them."

He pinched the bridge of his nose as though I was giving him a headache. "And what about my repeat?" he asked, stepping closer.

I shrugged.

"Keep acting this clingy and you won't be getting one."

The look on his face was priceless.

Before he could come up with a response, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there.

As I crossed the ballroom, I kept my eyes fixed on a familiar figure standing near the bar. The crowd parted around me as I moved through the room, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

I could still feel someone's gaze following me from behind lustfully.

I don’t even want to imagine the thoughts running through Alex’s head right now.

When I finally reached my destination, Vincent was slowly sipping champagne from a crystal glass, his attention never leaving me, even as he lowered the glass from his lips.

Those striking blue eyes remained fixed on mine.

I stopped in front of him and allowed my gaze to travel over his appearance.

"Black looks good on you," I said thoughtfully, my head tilting as I studied his tuxedo. "But maybe you should experiment with other colors sometimes. A white jacket with black pants would look incredible on you."

His expression didn't change.

If anything, he seemed more interested in something behind me than my fashion advice.

His eyes briefly shifted past my shoulder before returning to me. "I didn't realize you and Alex were friends."

The edge in his voice immediately told me he wasn’t so fond of Alex.

I almost laughed.

Who could blame him?

Alex had a talent for irritating people within minutes of meeting them.

"Friends is a bit of a stretch," I said. "Acquaintances would be a more accurate description."

Vincent let out a low hum. "His hands on your waist earlier didn't exactly look like an acquaintance's behavior."

I raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile slowly spreading across my lips. "Are you jealous, Mr. Sterling?"

He clicked his tongue and took another leisurely sip of his drink. "Jealous of a woman I barely know?" His eyes met mine over the rim of his glass. "Don't flatter yourself, Ms. Voss."

I had to fight back a grin.

Playing hard to get, are we?

Unfortunately for him, that only made this more entertaining.

"Maybe you should go back to your acquaintance," Vincent continued.

I frowned.

"And why would I do that?"

His gaze shifted over my shoulder. "Because he looks like he's seconds away from marching over here and making a scene."

Curious, I glanced behind me.

Sure enough, Alex was still standing across the room, watching us.

Even from a distance, I could tell he wasn't pleased.

His expression had darkened considerably since I'd walked away.

Our eyes met briefly before I turned back to Vincent. "I need a favor."

That earned me a look. "That's a bold request coming from someone who's done nothing but cause me problems."

I placed a dramatic hand over my chest. "I have never caused you any problems, Mr. Sterling."

One dark eyebrow lifted. "No?"

"No."

"You don't consider getting drugged in my club a problem?"

My eyes widened.

My club.

For a moment, I simply stared at him.

"Wait."

I pointed at him.

"You own Dark Angels?" The surprise in my voice was impossible to hide.

When I'd first heard about him, I'd only been told he was one of the club's most important VVIP guest.

No one mentioned that he actually owned the place.

My stomach immediately dropped.

Shit!

Did set my sights on someone completely out of my reach?

"The favor," he said flatly, ignoring my question entirely.

Right.

The favor.

I cleared my throat.

"Keep that man away from me for the rest of the night."

His brows drew together slightly. "You arrived with him, didn't you?"

“You don’t know that.”

Vincent’s eyes narrowed. “Your name was registered as his plus one,” he replied flatly. “Don’t try to act coy with me.”

I clicked my tongue in mild irritation, downed the rest of my drink in one go, and placed the empty glass on a passing server’s tray.

“That man makes me uncomfortable,” I admitted plainly.

“Then why arrive with someone who makes you uncomfortable?”

A fair question.

Smiling, I reached for his glass, my fingers brushing his briefly as I wrapped my hand around it. He didn’t stop me. He only watched, completely still, as I pulled it from his grip.

I took a sip of his champagne, then I tilted my head.

“What if I said I did all that for you?”

He took a step back, slipping both hands into his pockets like he needed distance from whatever game I was playing.

“Being cliché doesn’t really suit you, Ms. Voss.”

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, unfazed. “Nothing about tonight is cliché,” I replied. “Following a man into a club, pretending to be fine with another man just to get close to you… that’s not exactly what cliché looks like, Mr. Sterling.”

That earned me silence.

A very satisfying kind of silence.

I almost smiled.

David would’ve been proud of me right now.

Vincent stared at me like he was trying to decide whether I was bold, reckless, or simply unhinged.

Maybe all three.

Finally, he spoke.

“What do you want, Ms. Voss?”

Good.

We were finally getting somewhere.

I stepped a little closer, lowering my voice.

“First of all,” I said, “call me Alina.”

A pause.

Then I continued.

“And secondly… I want to buy you lunch.”

I placed his champagne flute back into his hand, my fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary.

Vincent looked down at the glass, then back at me. “First you ask for a favor, and now you’re making a request?” Vincent asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I’m buying you lunch for keeping me away from Alex tonight.”

His eyes narrowed, though there was a hint of amusement hidden beneath his expression. “I never agreed to that, Ms. Voss.”

“You didn’t say no either,” I countered.

That finally earned me a low chuckle.

He studied me for a moment longer, then lifted his glass again, his lips touching the exact spot where my lipstick had left a faint mark as he took a slow sip, completely unbothered.

The sight made my stomach flutter.

I had to look away for a second, clearing my throat as heat crept up my neck.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Alex stomping towards us.

My attention snapped back to Vincent. “You don’t have much time left to decide Mr. Sterling.”

Vincent lowered his glass. “Call me Vincent,” he corrected.

Before I could respond, his hand moved.

He placed it lightly on my waist, and my breath hitched, despite his hand barely resting on my waist. “How about you tell me more about yourself at my table

A slow smile spread across my lips. “My pleasure, Vincent.”