CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(132)

I should've been insulted. Beyond livid at being ridiculed and  slandered, but I couldn't deny the idiocy of my situation. I'd meant it  as a joke, sort of, but how could I ignore the truth blazing bright in  his dark words?

"I'm twenty-four, Mr. Hawk, and you were the first man my father agreed I  could spend an evening alone with. If it makes me stupid to want  something I've been denied all my life, then yes, I guess I'm incredibly  stupid. But you've just proven that no matter how much I wanted  freedom, I love my family more, and I didn't say a proper goodbye."

The sudden need to see V and my dad overwhelmed me. Something morbid  inside taunted with the horrible thought I would never see them again. I  knew it was ridiculous, but I couldn't fight the drive to leave.

Glaring at Jethro and his imposing silence, I sucked in a breath. "This was a mistake. I'm sorry."

Gathering my train, I spun on my heels and stalked toward the huge  portico and arched doorway. Blessedly my head remained clear and my feet  suffered no stumbles or falls. The heaviness of my train billowed in  the rush. My heart thudded with anxiety. I had no logical explanation  why I suddenly needed to be around people again, but I couldn't deny the  strong pull toward family.

Jethro didn't say a word. He stayed statuesque and proud in the evening darkness.

With every step I took, I expected him to call out or find some way to  stop me. He didn't seem like a man who accepted no for an answer. But  only silence followed, pushing me faster toward the door.

The moment I stepped through the polished entry and into the hive of  heat and voices, I plucked my phone from my cleavage. There was one  person in particular I wanted to speak to. A stranger I'd never heard or  seen. My father had allowed me one night of freedom. I didn't want it  with Jethro, but I did want it with someone else. I felt like Cinderella  waiting for the clock to strike midnight.

Maybe Kite lived close by? His number prefix said he dwelled in the  United Kingdom. Like me. It wasn't a long flight to get back home.

I'd lived in London all my life, moving from the outskirts to downtown  five years ago. The Weaver empire had always been based in London-right  from conception. And probably always would be-if business continued to  boom.

I opened a message to Kite007.

Needle&Thread: Sorry I didn't reply before, I was busy cementing my  career and ensuring I have a lifetime of servitude and sewing.

I sighed, staring at the words. They sounded whiny and ungrateful, which  I wasn't. Plus, the unsaid rule between us was no personal information.  I didn't know what he did for a living or his real name or favourite  food. Sex messaging was a void with no depth.

Which shows how lonely you are.

I scowled, deleting what I'd typed. I wasn't lonely. I had the best  family and support in the world. I was just … tired. Maybe I should book a  holiday somewhere hot? Somewhere where I can't sew or design or get  sucked back into work. It sounded great-but one problem. I didn't want  to be the loner around a pool on some tropical island. I didn't want to  eat on my own by candlelight on the beach.         

     



 

Take Vaughn.

I smiled. People already whispered that our relationship was too close.  Going on an island getaway? That would definitely get the gossip columns  buzzing.

My heart panged for the only relationship I had and how shallow it was. There was so much I wanted to say:

I want to meet you.

Please, can we skip the innuendoes and just talk?

I'm at the Nila Coal and Fire Exclusive in the heart of Milan. I want to go for a drink with you.

I want to get to know you.

I couldn't type any of that as it was against the rules. The unsaid  rules hinted at by Kite. No personal details. No over-sharing. No  information of any kind but sex. Damn rules. Damn life. Damn men.

The sharp smell of champagne and lull of laughter cocooned me; my fingers flew over the screen.

Needle&Thread: All I can think about is you and your wandering hand.  I'm mad at you for coming without me, but not mad because you came  while thinking of me. I've had a long night and plan on releasing my  tension the moment I'm alone.

A cynical smile twitched my lips. Kite would think I meant  self-pleasuring. I really meant hitting the treadmill and running until  my legs turned to jelly.

My phone came alive in my hands, jolting my attention to the glowing screen.

Kite007: Me and my wandering hand missed you. By a long night I'll take  it you mean on your knees servicing God in prayer. (let a man indulge in  the dirty thought) Message me when you're alone. I can help with your  tension.

I looked up. Couples mingled; groups gathered. Fashion was the  celebrated highlight of the evening with guests dressing in their  absolute best. But it was smiles and genuine happiness that made the  evening glow. I missed being happy. I hadn't laughed or smiled properly  since Mum left. I could never understand how she could love us as much  as she claimed, then switch off her heart … just like that.

When she'd returned from her disappearance to file for divorce from my  father, she'd ruined him. Completely and utterly stole his heart and  shot it to pieces on the lobby floor.

I remembered that day. I remembered thinking she'd returned with such a  pretty necklace. So sparkly, it'd blinded me when she blew kisses as she  walked out the door the final time.

Ever since that day, I'd been afraid of love. Afraid of the pain it  could cause and how easily something so pure could turn into something  so filthy.

Anger filled me. Anger I rarely let myself indulge in. I would never  admit the pain my mother caused, but it was the driving force behind my  workaholic nature. It was the catalyst of my life that turned me into  the woman I was.

Alone. Afraid. Angry. So damn angry.

Sliding my fingers across the keypad, I sent an impulsive message.

Needle&Thread: What if I don't want to be alone? What if I wanted  help physically rather than a meaningless text? Would you help then?

I probably shouldn't have sent it. I already knew his response. But what  was so wrong with me that no man wanted to face the wrath of my father  and take me for a drink? I didn't have boobs or hips or experience … but I  was willing to learn.

Jethro stood up to him.

I frowned, clutching my phone. That man didn't count. He was as  terrifying as my father, and his motives weren't genuine. He didn't want  to listen to my tales of woe over dinner. He wasn't there to woo me. He  wanted something more. And it was the more I was petrified of.

Kite007: Okay … whose balls did you steal to write that? You know that  doesn't work with me. I'm not some boy you can snap your fingers at and  I'll come running.

Pain lacerated my chest but I already expected it. Before I could reply, another message vibrated.

Kite007: You just had to fucking do that didn't you? What do you want  from me? A commitment? A relationship? You knew what this was. I thought  you were having fun getting off-same as me. Why ruin what we have?

My heart, the same useless organ that'd never been in love, cracked with  agony. His anger bled from my phone, poisoning my hand beneath.  Fantastic. The only outside interaction I'd had, and it was over. But  why his sudden viciousness?

Needle&Thread: All I asked was a simple question, but you jumped  down my throat. What's your deal? Don't tell me. I can guess. You're  only happy when you're in charge. But guess what? I can simply delete  your number and never reply to you again. You were the one who found me,  remember?

I breathed hard, huddling over my phone. I wasn't done. It was  refreshing to finally allow myself to be angry. I wanted to pour it all  out before I could swallow it back down again.

Needle&Thread: I think you need to come again, Kite. Your temper is  completely uncalled for and misdirected. All I implied was a meeting.  One phone call. A kiss maybe if we hit it off in person. Why is that so  hard for you? I'll tell you why. Because you're commitment phobic and a  cheater.

"Congratulations on your collection, Nila. I'm sure-"

I looked up into the eyes of a stranger. The woman had plump lips and wore black eyeshadow.

She paused mid-sentence. "Are you okay?"

I hated her concern. I hated that I came across as some stupid  wallflower who could make exquisite clothing but never grace someone's  arm. I don't want to be here anymore.

I needed fresh air. I needed silence.

Him.

The silent masculinity of Jethro Hawk suddenly called to me like a  cooling balm after a burning fire. He might scare me, but he had a body  to touch and a mind to explore. Motives or not-he wanted me for the  evening. And I was feeling reckless.

"Yes, I'm fine. Excuse me." Bunching my skirts, I dodged groups of  people, heading for the exit. My phone buzzed as I reached the door.

Kite007: Don't call me that. You lost the right to call me anything the  moment you changed from tempting to annoying. I'm not a cheater or  commitment phobic. And it's not hard for me to deny a meeting with you,  because I already have women to fuck. I already have enough physical  connections and stupid girls making demands of me. You just broke  something that wasn't broken. Congratu-fucking-lations.