Chapter 34: THIRTY FOUR

RAFFAELE

Slacking on the couch, I sipped my morning coffee and perused Celestia’s damage last night. It looked like a mini-tornado hit my room. Her rage was warranted—I’d agree. But wrecking my room? That’s a crossed line.

However, my anger had already slackened with the grand idea of how I’d make her pay for this. And I’d enjoy my heart out.

For a wild reason unbeknownst to me, Celestia bewitched me. And now that she has gone to a length and made her presence felt, I was going to savor every bit of her.

The sudden sound of the door invaded my thoughts, and when I looked over, Celestia walked in boldly. I glanced down at my watch. She arrived one hour and a half late as if she was gracing me with her presence.

I watched her stalk into the room with head high, and spine steeled and stood a couple of feet away from the couch with her arms crossed below her breasts. And damn those engorged pairs of globes with pert peaks evident from the thin dress material.

Her hair was washed, looking damp and untangled as it hung down the arc back. The glow of her skin could rival the goddess, and so was the simmering anger she emitted through her narrowed eyes.

“So nice of you to grace me with your presence,” I smirked and kept my voice hard and condescending. “Last night might have been a little hard.”

Her indignation flared, along with her nostrils. “Believe me: it wasn’t on my daily planner.”

The Celestia who I met weeks ago in the club and then brought down by my brother was different from the one standing in front of me.

This one was not the woman who would be backed up against the wall and meekly accept her weakness. This was a woman who was confident and powerful even when the odds were against her.

Fuck, my cock couldn’t get any harder than this.

“I see you have recovered quite well.” I offered a small smile. “Did the wine help you sleep?”

“I guess.” She shrugged a shoulder. “It was my first time.”

A pang of jealousy licked my veins. And before it could pop out in an ugly fashion, I shoved it down. “Amadeo said you didn’t like it the first time.”

“I didn’t,” she agreed. “The taste just grew on me after a few sips.”

“That’s good.” My voice came out terse. “At least you know how to admire finer things.”

She stepped closer to make her fury apparent. “Are you implying that I am trash?” An ugly hiss escaped her clenched teeth as she snarled, “Of course, I am not as filthy rich as you are, but that doesn’t mean you can insult me.”

I laughed under my breath and shook my head in dismissal. “I am not insulting you, Celestia. In fact, far from it; I am simply trying to understand as to why you would nonsensically destroy my room.” I waved around a hand in gesture. “Can you approximately guess the damages around you?”

Her eyes held mine and locked as if the destruction of the room was non-existent. “I am sure you have calculated the damages. Whatever the amount, it definitely doesn’t cross five million, right?”

Ah! There’s the valid anger. She must have hated the time extension.

“I don’t give a damn about the money. Everything can be replaced.” The faux chuckle caught me off guard as I raised a brow. “What’s so funny?”

“You kidnapped me for money, and now you are saying that you don’t give a damn about the money? You need a psychiatrist.”

Resting my elbow on the armrest, I leaned back comfortably as I explained, “Your mother made a mistake by crossing me once, and now she has to pay. She should feel lucky that I have only demanded cash and not her life.”

“And what about me?”

It was my turn to shrug. “You are the pawn.”

Celestia uncrossed her arms and fisted at her sides. “Good, that you don’t care about money,” she clipped out and gesture around. “I am sure you would replace your things.”

“Did you really think I summoned you to pay for the damages?”

“Well, I hope you are not expecting an apology because you are not getting one,” the retort was quick and snappy.

I realized Celestia was a whole lot interesting when she was temperamental. It contradicted her innocence so much that it was slowly growing on me.

I smiled at her and assured, “I promise you Celestia that you would apologize, and when you do, you would mean every syllable of it.”

She snorted obnoxiously. “In your dreams.”

Sitting straighter, I grabbed the cup and took a long sip. “Now, let’s get down to business. I realized that you must have been terribly bored in here, and that’s why all these evil notions are swarming inside your head.”

“It must have rubbed off from you when you were forcibly maltreating me yesterday.”

“I am a very exacting man, Celestia,” I slowly punctuated, hoping the words would sink past her hot temper at the moment. “And right now, you owe me a debt. Like I said, I don’t give a damn about the cost, but you are going to pay me through service.”

Her mouth parted in disbelief as she inhaled. “Are you kidding me?”

I didn’t dignify that with a response. Fixing the cufflinks on my wrist, I spared her a solemn, business-like glance. “Start by taking off your clothes.”

“So we are back to square one again?” she asked rhetorically. “You have enough money to hire a stripper and enjoy the show. Just spare me your sick demands.”

“Who said anything about a strip show? And you would be a terrible stripper too by the way.” She gasped and was ready to toss a few expletives, but I cut her off. Tossing an ensemble at her that she quickly caught in her hands, I instructed, “I want you to put these on.”

She inspected the mono-color apparel with a frowning shadow slowly cast upon her glowing features. “What is this?” she gritted, meeting my eyes.

“The maid uniform,” I clarified even though she knew. She must have seen the cleaning staff in her short stay in this house. “You know how they say that you should always dress for the job? I thought it is the fitting attire when you would be cleaning out this mess you made last night.”

The brittle temper snapped as she hurled the clothes at my feet. “To hell with you!”

Stomping towards the doors, she turned the knob and yanked at the polished wood with every ounce of force she had. Stupid girl! She forgot the way she slammed it when she entered, and since the lock closes on its own—there was no way it would open up without my fingerprint or the master key.

But Celestia kept at it—yanking, pulling and kicking. I was mildly worried that she would cause her more harm than to the door.

“Stop!” I barked from the couch and slowly rose to walk over to her.

Celestia didn’t move, studying every step I made her way. Her chest pumped with breath as her breasts strained against the fabric. The glow on her face held a mix of fear and fury I had seldom seen on humans.

I grabbed her by the elbow and pulled away from the door, towering over her frame. “Simply because you got lucky last night doesn’t mean it will be the case this morning. Your luck has already run out, and it’s time for payback.”

Celestia jerked her arm away. “You think you are god? That you can do anything and get away with it?”

“God?” I chuckled. “Definitely not. I am just a mortal, and right now, I am losing my patience.”

“I am not your puppet. You can’t make me—”

“Right now, you are a maid,” I cut her off because it was becoming a broken record. “Put on the uniform and get to work. Believe me: you wouldn’t like the alternative.”

For a moment—a fascinating, unwanted, and a mercifully brief flash of time, I imagined her in the light of a submissive. Strong yet delicate. And the vision disappeared as quickly as it came.

“And what’s the alternative?” she dared, wholly undaunted.

I put up an uncompromising stare. “The alternative is, I strip you out of the dress, and you would be forced to do the cleaning naked.”

The curl of her lips was half-way into a snarl. “Is there an end to your sick fantasies?”

A smile appeared before I could rein it in. The little she knew of the fantasies in my head, and the wild ones I conjured, invoking her active participation. But it was all a dream, an illusion of my mind.

I crossed my arms, level her a look, and stood there. Waiting.

When it was pretty evident to her bright mind that I wasn’t a pushover, she gave out a ragged exhalation—half sigh, half resignation, and part determination.

With a grunt, she stomped over to pick the clothes she had hurdled earlier and moved across the room and towards the closet.

“I am not changing in front of you.”

I didn’t protest.

I simply grinned.

Stupid bambi.

She still underestimated me.