Chapter 12 You can't run, Rosalina
CHAPTER TWELVE
You can’t run, Rosalina.
SCARLETT – POINT OF VIEW
He pushes through the crowd, holding my hand firmly, leading me up to the VVIP floor, or so I thought. To my surprise, he leads me into an office. A grand, beautiful office. I put down my bag, and I feed my eyes.
“Would you like a drink?” He asks, pulling off his suit, to reveal biceps straining against his shirt. The first few buttons are popped. He has rings on his fingers. A Patek on his wrist. He is beautiful, and he knows it.
I haven’t messed around with a man for a long time, and I am impatient. I want to climb him like a tree.
“No, I'd prefer to get started.” I sank my teeth into my lower lip again.
He flashes me a grin, like a Wolf. Then, he reaches for me and places me on the desk, tilting my hip up to him. He smells like cedar and nicotine. He cups my face, about to kiss me, and I look away, heart racing. I don’t kiss on the lips. It is a rule. Lines get blurred fast, and I am not interested in confusion.
Something flashes in his gaze, and he steps away from me. His absence hits me a little hard. His rejection stings, but I’m not about to waste my night off on him.
“I have a proposal for you. I’ll make it worth your while.” He says suddenly, and I look at him.
He is leaning against the door, arms folded across his chest. I shiver at the desperation I see in his eyes. I understand it too well.
“I need a woman to pretend to be my fiancée.” He blurts, and my eyes widen.
The surprise wears off, leaving behind disbelief and disgust. I get down from his desk, bemused. I fix my dress, wincing at the slickness between my thighs.
“I’ll make it worth your while, Scarlett. I’m about to get a government contract. It’s a lot of money. I’m qualified, but they say I’m irresponsible.” He scoffs at the word, then continues.
“I need to show them that I am. I told them I have a fiancée weeks ago, and I’ve been giving excuses for your absence, but it won’t stand anymore. Which is where you come in. Just play the part to perfection. I’ll make it worth your while, Scarlett. I’ll give you two million tonight, just to think about it. Then, when you agree, two million for each month, for the next two years. I’m sure a girl like you can use that kind of money.” He flashes me a wicked grin.
I look at him in shock. My pulse skips at the way he mentions money. It means nothing to him. I never told him my name. He knows who I am. He knows what I do. He knows I work in an Escort Agency.
“A girl like me? Fuck you, Roman. I’m not interested. Find someone else.” I snarl and walk to my bag, the back of my head pounding.
“Just two years, Scarlett. That is fifty million to play a part. I don’t have the luxury of time. You have one hour to think about it. I’ll send you the two million either way. Put aside your pride and think about the money.” He whispers, dragging out the last word.
I grab my bag and push open the door. The club blurs around me as I hone in on his words.
Two million, just to think.
My head pounds painfully as I push through the crowd. Thankfully, I find Rick and Eve sitting quite close.
I am not sure I can linger around. I don’t want to disturb their moment, so I walk away, slipping between bodies, not stopping until I am outside. I lean against the wall and inhale sharply. It is times like these I wish I smoked. How wonderful it will be to smoke the night away. I send a text to Rick and Eve, letting them know where I am.
I don’t know what I am supposed to feel about Roman’s proposal. I have a job. A comfortable job. I don’t even have any physical contact with my clients. I am mostly a listening ear for them. There’s absolutely no reason I should contemplate his deranged proposal. No reason, not even when a part of me wants that money.
“Scar?” Eve walks out of the club with her cheeks flushed and her mouth a little swollen.
“Why are you out in the cold? Are you okay? I thought you were with Roman.” She frowns, closing the gap between us. She smells like Rick, but I won’t point that out.
“Did he touch you?” Rick demands angrily as he drapes his coat over my shoulder.
I scoff, “No, he didn’t touch me. He wants to marry me.”
“What?”
“He wants me to play wife for two years for fifty million. He needs a wife to get a deal. Do you know the weird part? He knew who I was and what I do.” I spit bitterly, my chest caving in.
“You think Marcy sold you out?” Eve sneers angrily.
I shrug with a sad smile on my face, “Maybe she did, but it doesn’t matter. I’m disposable to her. Can we go home? We can stay if you want us to.”
“Of course, we can.” She links our arms, and we walk to the car.
The drive home is short and comforting. We stop at a drive-thru and order to-go bags. Then, we head straight home.
As I get out of the car, my phone beeps, and I glance at it. Credit alerts, two million. In disbelief, I ignore it, and we walk up the stairs. Our apartment building is just three floors, so the stairs are easy.
My head is still pounding as we walk to our door.
“Oh, the neighbour left a note.” Eve muses, and I frown.
A note has been stuck to our door – No puedes huir, Rosalina, which translates to You can’t run, Rosalina.
The world drops from under me, and my stomach hollows in an instant.
They’ve found me.