Chapter 24 Night Owls II
Vivienne's POV
He didn't respond with words right away. He just held the small of my back protectively with his strong hand and led me carefully back to our seats, his hand never leaving me for even a second. His touch was gentle, supportive, and I was grateful for it because my legs were truly shaking now, though I wasn't sure if it was from exhaustion or from the drink.
We sat down in our booth, the leather seats cool against my skin. A waiter brought us water, and I drank gratefully, trying to calm my racing thoughts. The club continued around us, people dancing, laughing, living their lives, but I felt like we were in our own bubble.
After a few long moments of silence that felt heavy between us, he finally spoke a word, disrupting the anxious thoughts that were racing through my mind like a storm.
"You've got so much guts in you," he said, staring down at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. Was it admiration? Surprise? Something else entirely?
"I was taught to be brave and not shrink when I see what interests me," I responded simply, meeting his gaze directly, refusing to look away.
It was the truth, the honest truth. My mother had always told me to go after what I wanted, to never make myself smaller for anyone.
He nodded slowly, seeming to consider my words carefully. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth, and I felt some of the tension in my shoulders release.
After a few more hours of chatting and genuinely enjoying each other's company, talking about everything and nothing at all, we finally decided to call it a day. We discussed our favorite books, our childhood memories, and our dreams for the future. He told me about his first business venture, and I told him about my family.
The night had grown late, and the club was starting to empty out, people filtering out into the night. We drove in total silence all the way till we got home, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence at all. It was the kind of quiet that comes when words aren't necessary, when just being together is enough, when the presence of another person says more than any conversation could.
The streets were mostly empty at this hour, streetlights casting long shadows. I watched the city pass by through the window, feeling a strange sense of contentment settle over me.
After parking his expensive car carefully in the garage, the engine dying with a soft sound, I made a move to get down from the passenger seat with my wobbling, exhausted legs. But before I could fully open the door, he reached over quickly and held my hand firmly, his fingers wrapping around mine, stopping me completely in my tracks.
"Stay the night with me," he demanded, his voice low and serious, leaving no room for misunderstanding.
I turned to look at him fully, my heart pounding hard in my chest. His eyes were intense, dark and searching mine desperately for an answer, for any indication of what I was thinking.
The air between us felt charged, heavy, full of unspoken possibilities and promises. My hand was still in his, warm and secure, and I found myself completely unable to look away from him, drawn to him like a magnet.
The garage was quiet except for the soft ticking of the cooling engine, and at that moment, everything else in the world seemed to fade away into nothing. It was just us, just this moment, and the decision I had to make right here, right now.
I wanted to respond almost immediately but the words got stuck in my mouth. What should I say? Should I accept or turn down his offer? But I wasn't given the luxury of time to think about it for long before he interrupted my thoughts.
“You're thinking of the perfect reply for me?”
“Hmmm,” My eyes met his.
“Stay the night with you?”
“Yes! Stay the night with me, we can sit on the porch all night long while we enjoy each other's presence.”
“What if I don't want to talk?”
“We can simply sit out here and enjoy the view. I will instruct the chef to make something nice for us,” he said, staring at me. “And I promise you'll like it.”
"Okay, it'll be fun," I finally agreed, my voice coming out softer than I intended.
The moment the words left my mouth, my mind started racing with questions that I couldn't control.
Vivienne, what are you doing? What on earth are you thinking? Spending the night with Raphael? Really? What happened to his tough exterior that everyone talks about? His cold and arrogant nature that made people fear him?
Why is he asking me to spend the night when he could simply get one of those beautiful models without even moving a muscle or asking nicely? He could snap his fingers and have any woman he wanted, so why me?
All of these questions flooded my head relentlessly, crashing over me like waves, and I just couldn't get them out of my head no matter how hard I tried. They kept coming, one after another, making my head spin with confusion and uncertainty.
"Just give me a few minutes, let me freshen up and meet you up later when the chef is ready with whatever meal she's preparing," I said quickly, needing some space to think, to breathe, to figure out what I was doing.
I got down from the car hurriedly and walked briskly toward my room, my heels clicking loudly against the smooth garage floor. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I could hear it in my ears.
I kissed him earlier tonight and he didn't respond at all, he just stood there frozen like a statue, and now suddenly he's asking me to spend the night with him? It didn't make any sense.
The hallway leading to my room seemed longer than usual, my footsteps echoing in the quiet house. I kept replaying everything that had happened tonight over and over in my mind. The dancing, the way we moved together so perfectly, the kiss that he didn't return, and now this invitation.
Who are you, Raphael? I asked silently, the question directed at no one in particular, just floating out into the empty air around me. Who
are you really, beneath all that wealth and power and mystery?