The CEO's Forbidden Desire

Chapter 6

|Gryphon's POV|

For the entire night since the moment she walked into the ballroom where the rehearsal dinner was being held at The Plaza, wearing a stunning enigma of an evening gown that is all delicate gossamer and hanging crystals that make her look like an angel descended from the Heavens, my eyes have barely swayed from her.

Even though after our conversation yesterday, it is very much evident that Serena and I are always going to be on the outs once our parents do get married, but why do I get the feeling that there are things right in front of me that I am not seeing?

Because for the entire night that I have watched her from afar, I have seen the way she withdraws into the mask of nothingness when she feels that she is being observed by people. How her face draws into an abyss of sadness and despair too faint for anyone to notice but too potent for me to ignore. I don't know why but my mind has never been conflicted for anyone in the same manner before...it's strange.

Not to mention the way my entire night felt like it was ruined the moment I saw Donovan dancing with Serena and the lewd manner with which he was handling her body was enough for me to get up and leave the room especially after I saw one of the guests snapping their picture. The gossip columns are going to have a field day with that snapshot but I am certain that it will only be a small addition in the social collage of Donovan and Serena's pre-existing photographs on the internet.

I would have to do something about Donovan because otherwise I'm afraid that she and Serena will only try to run my name into the ground.

And now, just as I had been peacefully enjoying a drink at the rooftop bar, pondering over my own thoughts about the whole debacle, imagine my surprise when the enigmatic goddess herself decided to make an appearance as she walked towards someone sitting by the bar only two seats down from me.

From what I could gather of their conversation, the pixie cut woman was Serena's manager and the words she used for her were so berating and unkind that I was left astounded when Serena did not say anything to defend herself.

Especially since some of the things her manager said were downright offensive on a humanitarian level.

Hell, even I was angry for a moment there on Serena's behalf but she...she was holding her expressions in a composed fashion, not once responding hatefully to her manager's clearly hateful comments.

And that brings us to here and now—

"Rough night?" I ask her taking a seat beside her on the bar just as the bartender hands her the requested drink.

Serena's eyes widen for a moment before she narrows her gaze and tension pulls taut between us as I hold my breath for what she has to say—

But then, as if her entire energy is drained away from her body, she shakes her head and chooses to look down at her drink while releasing a sigh that feels like she has the weight of the whole world pressing down on her shoulders.

"You know what, Vance?" She mutters but her voice doesn't hold it's usual conviction, "go ahead, tell me what I did wrong according to you, tell me how did I ruin your reputation today." There is an uncharacteristic defeated tone to her words along with the slight slurrying of her voice. I have seen her knocking back drinks like they were glasses of water the whole night and I have a fair feeling that she is drunk out of her mind or at least is about to be.

I look down at my half empty bottle and sigh, well, seems like we're in the same boat.

"I have nothing to scold you for, Serena." She shivers slightly and I am guessing that it is because of the cold as she looks towards me and meets my gaze.

"What?" She asks softly, surprised at my response just before she drinks the last sip of her bourbon in one go and asks the bartender for another.

"It's true. I think I may have gone too far yesterday," I state in all honesty, especially considering that every since yesterday evening, an ugly emotion awfully feeling like guilt has been rearing its head again and again.

Serena looks at me with an expression of disbelief and annoyance, "listen, I have had a long day, honestly, and have another long one tomorrow. So, whatever snobbish game you're trying to play with this whole "accountability for your actions" act of yours, I suggest that you stop it right now. I am certainly not interested in whatever the f**k this is." She snaps, waving her finger in my direction in a condescending manner.

My fists clench in anger, "what the f**k is your problem?" I hiss, reaching out to grab her hand in mine and that earns me a tortured expression from her that is so intense that I immediately leave her like I have been burnt. "I—" I close my mouth, "I'm sorry," I whisper feeling like I have done something exceptionally wrong.

She stares at me wordlessly for a moment and light glints off of her eyes that almost look glassy at this point but perhaps I am seeing too much into it before she mutters, "I don't care."

I scoff, shaking my head, "wow, you really do try to go that far to sell the whole b***h act, don't you?" Even though I say it under my breath, her ears catch my words and she snaps her head in my direction again.

"Excuse me?"

Well, no point going back now, "the whole 'b***h act'. You're really not the person that you pretend to be in front of the media, are you?" I question realising that perhaps my drunk mind may have figured more things out than my sober one.

Perhaps this really is the reality.

She quirks her brow, staring at me with an unreadable expression for a moment before a chuckle escapes her, "and you've got me all figured out, don't you? In what? A day of trying to ruin my professional prospects and the night that our parents announced their wedding?" She asks mockingly before rolling her eyes, "you don't even know me."

"If the conversation with your manager is of any significance then I am guessing that stopping you from walking Nicholas Farrera's show was actually helping you instead of ruining your professional prospects. Your manager didn't seem very pleased that you were going to take such a step in the first place, need I remind you..." I shrug and her eyes widen in my direction as she gapes at me in disbelief for a moment.

"Y-you heard all that?" She asks softly, something crashing in her eyes that makes me want to take my words back.

She now knows that I heard all the derogatory things her manager was saying to her.

I clench my jaw, "in my opinion you should fire that bitch." I tell her, "there are a thousand other managers out there doing twice as well and are actually kind, to an extent." The words are spoken with genuine concern because no matter how fake her life might be, she too doesn't deserve to be berated like that.

Serena gives me a bitter smile that tells me that there is so much more to her than it meets the eye, "I can't. It's...not possible." She mumbles and that's all. No further explanation.

"Well, I didn't think anything was impossible for the Ice Queen of Manhattan."

She lets out a dry chuckle, drowning herself in another drink, "thanks for the reminder of who I am, Mr. Vance," she whispers and her voice makes her words sound almost sensuous in a manner that has my c**k hardening as I stare at her shivering in the cold air of the night.

I don't offer her my coat.

Not yet.

Perhaps it is the sadist in me, but I like watching her shiver even when she knows she has the option to get up and leave.

She's sitting here and she's drowning her thoughts in liquor same as me on the night that both of our parents are celebrating their union.

This almost feels like we are in the same damn boat.

"I think it's not who you are but who you're supposed to be in front of the world, Serena." I tell her thoughtfully, my voice firm and sure as she continues to look down at her half filled glass containing the amber liquid.

"Is that so?" She asks turning her head and finally looking into my eyes as she brings her face closer, "and who do you really think I am? Your object?"

The edge in her tone surprises me but I do not back away from the challenge as I smirk at her, leaning forward until our faces are merely an inch apart, "why? Would you like to be, little Serena?" I ask before my words can stop themselves and with the way I see her eyes darken and red creeping up her cheeks, I know I don't regret my words.

Her red coated lips part and I make a mistake of gazing down at them, imagining them wrapped around my c**k as I f**k her face raw and hard while tears spring down the sides of her face...

Fuck.

The mere thought is enough to make all my blood rush south of my body.

She shivers gazing at me still and that is what causes me to blink.

What the f**k is wrong with me?

Eduardo is marrying Beatrice in less than two days. Serena is going to be my sister, for f**k's sake. I should not be having such thoughts about her.

That is the moment my inner conscience pipes up, okay, one, step-sister and two, as you said, the wedding is almost two days ago. Right now, she's nothing to you, hell she might even be a stranger.

A very beautiful, sexy, and irresistible stranger at that.

Serena breaks our eye contact as she gulps down the remaining of her drink and reaches out to grab her purse as another gust of wind causes her to shiver.

That's it.

I grab my coat from the back of my chair and wrap it around her shoulders as she gasps at the suddenness when I secure the item around her body as our faces come close enough for me to smell the intoxicating bourbon and cherry on her breath as she shudders yet again and this time, I don't think it has anything to do with the wind.

"Come on," I whisper to her through glazed eyes, feeling my own head spinning with intoxication and sinful thoughts of the woman in front of me, "let's get you back to your room."

My voice leaves no chance for her to argue as I wrap my arm around her waist and we make our way to her room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An incessant beeping sound causes my head to feel like it is going to burst into flames at any moment as I groan and turn on the bed, pulling the pillow closer to my chest—

Only, it's not a pillow.

No.

Consciousness starts to return to me slowly as I splay my hand across a smooth and milky span of someone's bare abdomen as my fingers start roaming around until I come in contact with a hardening n****e and my morning boner becomes all the more erect when I hear a soft female voice letting out a moan and I finally realise that perhaps I slept with someone last night…

But…

The last woman I had seen before I slept had been…

Serena.

Fuck.

My eyes fly open as I snap my head to the side at the same time that Serena too opens her eyes and both our eyes widen in shock as we realise that we are both completely and utterly naked.

“Oh, God!”

“We’re f****d!”

“No, darling, I think we fucked.”

“Yes, you asshole! And that should not have happened!”

“Yes..”

And with that, Serena slams a pillow in my face as she storms into the en-suite before I can even say anything further.

We are royally screwed.