Clothes off
1041 Words
“She has arrived and is waiting in the room, just like you instructed,” the butler reported, bowing respectfully before stepping out and shutting the door.
Killian sat behind his study desk, flipping through documents as if the next few minutes wouldn’t be life-altering. Marcel was perched on the edge of the armrest, looking every bit like a man watching a slow-motion train crash, in real time!
“I can’t believe you’re really doing this,” Marcel muttered. “It’s not too late to back out. The ceremony doesn’t start for another hour… though, actually, it might already be too late.”
Killian didn’t bother looking up. “You’re the one who recommended that agency. If this goes south, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”
Marcel’s lips twitched. “Wow. That was fast. You’ve barely signed the deal and I’m already under the bus.”
He tossed a file onto the desk, the blank check sitting on top like a flashing siren. One million for a single day. It was outrageous enough but,
Killian’s brows rose slightly but he said nothing.
“She’s clearly in it for the money,” Marcel added. “No discipline, no filter, she can’t be trusted. If Damien so much as winks at her, she might switch teams mid-contract.”
Killian’s expression hardened. Damien. That snake could charm a nun into breaking her vows and Elara didn’t exactly scream “loyalty clause.” He knew his cousin very well and he could already imagine Damien doing what he does best, compete with him for everything!
This was the only part of his plan that was unpredictable and vulnerable to a fault. He could handle his uncle, Victor and Mr.Hale but Damien was skilled in the field of deceit, using a charm and charisma that made women fall helplessly.
“I’ll test her myself,” Killian said, rising to his feet in all his glory.
Marcel stared at him, genuinely concerned now. “You do realize you’re about to go toe-to-toe with the scariest creature known to man, right?”
Killian gave him a dry look.
“A woman,” Marcel clarified. “A broke, beautiful woman with bills to pay and zero tolerance for your trust issues. May God be with you.” But Killian didn’t care and kept on his strides.
Marcel could only sigh as he watched the back of his friend who believed handling women was an easy feat.
He would soon learn that all his business dealings and quick wittedness didn't stand a chance against a woman, much less a desperate one!
Meanwhile, Elara sat in a room that looked like it belonged in a Versailles catalog. Everything was white and gold, and everything was breakable. A terrifying combo for a jittery woman.
The butler’s words played on a loop in her head.
“Wait here. The young master will be with you shortly.”
But the wait was wearing on her, not to speak or his weird utterance.
Young master?
Did she stumble into a historical drama?
She wandered around, lightly brushing the edge of a painting and accidentally picking up a vase that probably cost more than her apartment. She was inspecting it when a voice shot through the air like a sniper’s bullet.
“It’s impolite to touch things that don’t belong to you.”
She nearly dropped the damn vase. Her heart leapt into her throat as she turned and instantly regretted it.
Standing in the doorway was six-foot-five of sheer intimidation. And somehow, it had a face carved by gods with a personal grudge against mediocrity.
“Holy moly,” she muttered, not softly enough to save her some face but who could blame her?
His hair was dark, his jawline could cut diamonds, and his eyes, those hazel eyes were doing ungodly things to her confidence.
She meant to say something snarky. Something powerful like why’d he sneak up her and almost cost her, her lifesavings or wasn’t he aware that it was impolite to do that as well? Instead, she just… stood there. Like a stunned NPC.
“Are you mute?” he asked, his voice like silk wrapped in steel.
That snapped her out of it. She set the vase down, carefully and straightened, as did her posture subconsciously because she was suddenly hyper aware or herself.
He took a slow step toward her likes prey stalking his predator.
“You wrote a million on the blank check,” he said, his voice dipped in cold amusement. “You really think you’re worth that much for one night? Prove it.”
Elara blinked. “Wait—what?”
“Clothes off,” he ordered, moving forward again, with no intention of stopping.“Let’s start there.” He added.
She stared at him, stunned. This had to be a joke. Right? Right??
Apparently not because he kept bridging the distance between them with a stare that made her think she was a main course at a billionaire’s buffet!
Her brain didn’t send any commands but her body certainly did.
She wasn’t exactly thinking. Instinct took over and before she knew it, her left leg flew up with unholy precision and nailed him right between the legs.
Direct hit! Ballistic-level accuracy, right in his crown jewel.
Killian crumpled with a sound that would haunt her dreams, grabbing the nearest surface to steady himself.
Elara clapped a hand over her mouth in horror.
‘Oh God. I just murdered a billionaire. In his own house. With my foot!’
He groaned, teeth gritted in pain, while she backed away slowly, then faster until she turned and ran out of the room, down the hallway, anywhere that didn’t involve prison or lawsuits.
Just as she reached the door, it swung open. Marcel stood there, stunned but she brushed past him like the devil was at her heels before he could process the situation she took to her heels leaving the billionaire who was leaning on the bed for support.
Never in his life had he been hit… scratch that. Never had he felt so humiliated in his entire existence!
Behind Marcel, Killian’s voice growled low and furious.
“Find her. Now! She doesn’t leave this house.”
- Writer
