Chapter 8 Chapter Seven
ARA
I stumbled in my steps beside Thayne who was the perfect example of composure.
Someone had leaked the truth to the press. Someone who knew that Thayne would never settle for a girl like me.
Thayne reached over, grabbed the microphone and tossed it to the left. The journalist gasped before quickly heading to the other side to fetch his now ruined microphone.
But this didn't deter the others. They trailed us all the way up to the mouth of the hall.
“Mr. Thayne, the gist on the blogs say that you are a daddy's boy. Would you like to leave a statement?" Thayne's men had tightened the circle around us, so I couldn't see the faces of the people speaking anymore.
Thayne's hand around my waist didn't loosen one bit. Instead, he drew circles on my hip with his fingers as we walked briskly to the hall's entrance.
“The gist also says that Miss Ara Irvington’s family status may be bad PR for your profile. You must have something to say about that, don't you?” Another journalist pressed.
"Yes,” Thayne answered, and my heart hollowed out.
“Fuck off.”
Well, that last part was unexpected.
My thoughts swirled, and I wouldn't stop trembling. If the truth was out now, did this mean that Thayne would want to call this arrangement off?
Obviously, it would be foolish to continue with it when the city was starting to realize that we weren't a perfect couple after all.
I turned my neck, just to see if the journalists had given up, but they were still behind us, only that now they'd given us a wide berth because of Thayne's ferocious growl.
When we reached the entrance, Thayne's men split into three groups. The first five went in first to survey the inside of the hall.
Other guests eyed us as they passed, some curious, some jealous.
Most of the females ogled Thayne without shame, but it was the way the males leered at me that made me uncomfortable.
I wanted to strangle Madison for doing this to me. At this thought, I suddenly realized I'd been foolish for not putting two and two together to get the bigger picture.
The only person who could have guessed accurately that what was happening between Thayne and I was possibly an arrangement would be Madison.
Perhaps she hadn't even known it was the truth and was just trying to ruin my reputation.
This would be part of the plan she'd texted Nina about.
Would Thayne believe me if I explained what I'd seen in Nina's phone to him?
Barely two minutes later, Munroe, the escort closest to me touched his ear briefly before nodding once to Thayne.
They escorted us inside, and my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the display of extravagance and grandeur.
Again, I was reminded of the bitter truth that I was fish out of water, that this was no place for me.
There were only celebrities in here, and I was just the manager of a restaurant one second away from crashing.
Bright chandelier lights in various colors hung over our heads, and the stars scattered across the floor made it seem as though we were walking on a starry night sky.
Cameras began taking clean shots of us as we walked further into the heart of the hall. Heads turned, and the chatter quietened for a moment.
Then, the whispers and murmurs started.
Thayne released my waist to take my hand in his, and he looked at my face as he did it. My breath caught, just staring at him. Thayne was too beautiful that it hurt to even walk beside him.
As soon as we reached the nearest table, Thayne slowed us down and tugged me to his side. I tried to put some distance between us but he dragged me in front of him and pressed a kiss to my bare shoulder.
Fuck.
“Don't try to be smart, little lamb. If you don't cooperate, I won't hesitate to kiss you in front of everyone here to let them know you're mine." His low voice in my ear sent shivers dancing up my spine.
“I'm not yours." I told him, scanning the hall for the one face I'd promised myself I would look out for.
A Hollywood film star passed us by, photographers trailing her like flies after honey.
Just as I wanted to turn around and ask Thayne if he had instructed the paparazzi to stay away, he lowered his head and kissed me.
In a hall filled with important people of New York!
If I thought the sound of cameras clicking outside had been overwhelming, I was utterly mistaken.
Right now, it was a chorus of flash, click, flash, click.
Thayne was eating my face in front of everyone who cared to watch, and my knees buckled at that thought.
Thayne's hand caught me by the waist, making it look like he'd wanted to put his hand there. This kiss felt so different from the others, like there was something he was trying to tell me, and he was unashamed about it.
Who was I kidding? I was being delusional. This was just Thayne flaunting me so he could make a bold statement.
When I finally found the right opportunity to break apart from him, I grabbed it with two hands.
In that moment, it was like we were the only two people in the hall, and the world paused itself to watch us.
He opened his mouth to speak, but saw something behind me which drew his attention.
“I will be back. Stay here. My men are just a few yards away, but they won't make it obvious they are. So, try not to wander." He spoke quickly, and when I lifted my brow, he knitted his own.
"If you try to run, you'll be going back to the penthouse over my shoulder.” He threatened.
"Of course, your royal highness.” I said dryly.
He leaned forward and kissed my forehead before leaving. Once he was gone, I sighed in relief.
This was as much privacy as I could get, which was funny. Privacy in the midst of over fifty people.
I looked around and noticed that almost all the ladies in here had their eyes on me. Sheesh. No doubt they were curious about the relationship between Thayne and I, for him to have openly kissed me like that.
Ridiculous, because there was no relationship between us other than the one of a kidnapper and his captive.
“That's a real naughty dress you've got there," A chirpy voice spoke from behind me.
I wheeled, and met the stern green-eyed stare of the female version of Thayne. This would definitely be his sister, I thought.
“Last minute solution to a wardrobe malfunction." I said in response, offering her a small smile, one she didn't return.
Okay, message received. Not a fan, apparently.
“So I heard." She said it so casually, that I had to force my thoughts to crash to a stop so I could wrap my head around her words. So she heard?
“Oh, you must be surprised. Maddie told me how she quickly stepped in to salvage the situation by ordering for a quick replacement when Nina asked her for help. She's such a darling, that Madison.” The malice in her voice was crystal clear, and now, she smiled.
The kind of smile that let me know she hadn't come for a chitchat.
"Forgive me, but you mention these names I don't even know, though they sound really familiar. Are they people I know?" I asked, pretending to have truly forgotten the faces behind the names.
My lie worked, because she pursed her lips, as if annoyed that I'd beaten her in her own game.
“I'm sure you must know Madison, the apple of Thayne's eye before you took a knife to it. Careful, or the city folk will start to believe the press." She chuckled, waving a server over and wrapping her slender fingers around the flute of a wineglass.
“And what does the press say?” I tried not to give away the fact that I was yet to get access to a mobile phone since her brother kidnapped me.
“Funny, it's been online for two days now." She murmured, bringing out her phone and tapping on the screen for a few seconds.
She turned the phone and flashed the screen so I could see.
Is Thayne really in love with Miss Ara Irvington, or is it just PR?
New York's Bad Boy Billionaire Boss Finally Settles With Slumgirl, Ara Irvington.
I took a step backwards when I noticed my pictures in each of the stories, then another.
Photos lifted from my Facebook and IG profiles, I realized.
The headlines were outrageous. Slumgirl?
“Don't look surprised, dear. In our circle, you're a slumgirl. I'm sure Thayne is simply trying to let the public know he cares for the poor, too. It's good PR for his image.” She said, sipping her wine.
I needed a breath of fresh air. My dress was too tight, too small and refused to help me digest the fact that bloggers had nicknamed me slumgirl.
“I'll be on my way now, slumgirl.” She said loudly, causing people to turn our way.
Instead of walking past me, she walked right into me and spilled the rest of her drink inside the plunging neckline of my dress.