Chapter 12 Promises and Threats
I replace the glass with a sharp click and fresh ice that catches the red neon from above. I then gesture toward the bottle still occupying the seat next to him. "Since you’ve already secured the bottle a seat, I’m sure you can manage the heavy lifting. I’d hate to interrupt your quality time."
Bastian doesn't look at the bottle. He’s too busy staring me down, his expression hardening as he dabs at the stain on his chest again. "You’d be significantly more efficient if you spent less time auditioning for a role in every pair of legs that wanders past your station. It’s a bar, not a speed-dating service."
I shake my head, a dry, snippy laugh escaping my throat. "I’ve been running this bar for three years. I think I’ve got the 'customer service' part down without needing a tutorial from someone who treats people like chess pieces.”
He lets out a low, dark chuckle that vibrates through the wood of the bar.
"Is that what this is?" I ask, leaning in closer, my voice a sharp whisper. "You bought the whole building just so you could control my schedule? Is that your move?"
"You’d like that, wouldn't you?" he murmurs, his eyes dropping to my mouth. "To be the center of my entire corporate strategy? It’s a flattering fantasy, Kaden."
"I’ve had more pleasant nightmares," I snap back.
"Unfortunately for your ego, this was a simple business move," he counters, his tone turning smooth and dangerously casual. "I closed on the place days ago. At the time, I hadn't even realized all the... hidden advantages the property offered." His eyes skim over me, slow and hungry, lingering on the way my shirt stretches across my shoulders.
He lifts the bottle of Umbra from the barstool and sets it on the mahogany with a heavy thud. He slides it toward me, his fingers lingering on the glass. "Now, be a good boy and pour me a drink. I wanna see if you’ve finally learned how to serve me properly, or if I need to personally oversee your training."
I feel the heat rush to my face, a mix of genuine fury and that traitorous spark of tension. "I told you not to talk to me like that," I mutter, but my hands are already moving. I half-heartedly tilt the bottle, the amber liquid swirling over the ice. Bastian watches the pour with a smirk that says he knows exactly how much power he’s wielding.
"What exactly are you looking for, huh?" I ask, my voice tight as I slide the glass back. "A trophy to put on a shelf? A pet you can whistle for? If you think buying the bricks means you bought the staff, you're in for a very expensive disappointment. I’m off the menu, Mr. Steele."
He takes a slow sip, his eyes never leaving mine over the rim of the glass. I turn to walk away, my chest tight with the small victory of having the last word. I’m scanning the room for Ava, praying she’ll appear so I can hand off this entire section of the bar and disappear into the cooler for a while. If I can just put a wall between me and those blue eyes, I might survive the shift.
"You said you were looking for exposure, Kaden."
His voice stops me mid-stride. It’s low, slicing through the hum of the club with surgical precision.
"I can think of a dozen ways to expose you," he continues, his tone casual. "Most of them have nothing to do with a camera, and everything to do with how you’d look pinned against my headboard."
I freeze. My blood turns to liquid fire. I spin around, marching back to him and leaning over the bar until we’re inches apart. I’m hyper-aware of the customers nearby, the pulse of the music, the clinking of glasses....I can’t let even a crumb of this fucked-up conversation reach anyone else.
"Is this you being charming?" I hiss, my voice a jagged whisper. "Because I hate to break it to you, but it sounds a hell of a lot like a threat."
He doesn't flinch. He leans in to meet me halfway, his scent filling my head. "It’s a promise. You keep playing hard to get, and I’m going to make sure the only networking you do is with the base of my cock while I’m burying myself so deep in you you’ll feel me in your chest."
My mind goes blank. Whatever witty, cutting retort I had ready is wiped out and scorched clean.
The heat hits me like a physical wave, concentrated and heavy, pooling instantly in my groin. My cock give a traitorous, agonizing throb, my body reacting to the mental image before my brain can even process it. I want to be disgusted. I want to tell him he’s overstepped. But my skin is electric, and my heart is hammering against my ribs so hard I can barely breathe.
I’m staring at him, my mouth slightly open, completely caught in his gaze. He’s looking at me like he can see the exact moment my body betrayed my pride.
"You're..." I start, but my voice cracks. I try to regain my footing, but the damage is done.
His smirk is slow, knowing, and utterly predatory. He picks up his glass again, his eyes tracking the flush creeping up my neck. "I'm what, Kaden? Don't tell me, did I finally find the right words to make you go quiet?"
I swallow hard, the movement thick in my throat as I lean back just a fraction. I’m desperate to clear the static haze his words left in my head, but it’s like trying to thin out smoke with my bare hands. Meanwhile, he just sits there, looking insufferably smug, his eyes tracking the way my chest hitches with every uneven breath.
I hate it...I swear I do!
"Is that the problem?" I finally manage, my voice all jagged. "Have you literally never been told 'no' in your entire life? Is that why you’re acting like a spoiled brat with a platinum card? Because you think the world is just one giant vending machine for your ego?"
He tilts his head, a slow, dark amusement playing in his eyes. "It’s less that I’ve never been told 'no,’ and more that I’ve never taken it for an answer."
He leans forward again, his elbows reclaiming the mahogany. "So why don't you stop hiding behind that bar and come a little closer? Tell me if you’ve reconsidered that resignation.....” His voice trails off, but his eyes don't. His gaze drops, sliding down the front of my shirt to the edge of the mahogany. It’s as if the solid wood of the bar is made of glass, and he’s mapping out every inch of my reaction with a smirk that says he’s already won. "...or if your body is going to keep calling you a liar every time I open my mouth," he adds.
I shake my head, I’m a second away from a total meltdown when I spot a flash of purple hair rushing through the staff entrance. Ava. Finally.
I don't give him the satisfaction of an answer. I step away immediately as Ava skids to a halt beside me, breathless and murmuring apologies about traffic. I give her a tight, strained nod.
"Don't worry about it, Ava. You're just in time," I say, then gesture toward Bastian, who hasn't looked away from me for a single second. "Do me a favor and ensure Mr. Steele has everything his standards require."
I don't hang around after that. I turn and head straight for the cooler, my heart performing a frantic, irregular rhythm against my ribs. I need a wall of ice between me and that man....before I do something we both might actually enjoy.