Chapter Nine

The Bellfair Dance.

Every politician who wanted to get ahead in the game attended it. As the President, Darrow had no choice but to attend - in fact, he would be the main star of it. The most important man in the room, or more like in every room. It was well into the month after the vandal attack at Freya's home, and naturally, Angel was assigned to cover the dance for Brevity. Somehow, they entrusted her with everything that concerned him. They were convinced that she knew the most about him in the office, and frankly, she thought that she was the person in the world who knew the most about him. She would gladly challenge anyone who dared to claim otherwise.

Angel stepped into the ballroom, dressed in a body-hugging fiery red dress that opened up at the back and covered her front generously but made sure the swell of her breasts would spill over on top. She knew she looked fabulous in the dress, and as she walked through the crowd, the multiple looks sent her way only added to that belief.

Weaving her way through the crowd, she scanned the entire room as she walked until she found the one she was looking for. Darrow was standing beside a tall round table covered in a blue cloth, a wine glass in one hand as he talked to the man standing next to him. Angel changed her course right away and headed for him, until he tilted his head towards her to stare at her.

"You," Darrow said as he placed his wine glass on the table. "I remember you."

"You do?" Angel said as she inhaled sharply.

"You're the reporter who asked me if I had a girlfriend," he said with the back of one finger lifted up at her in recall. "You gained Brevity a lot of attention with that question."

"Is that good?"

"I have a complicated history with Brevity, so I have multiple answers for that."

"Well, you answered my question with a joke. Do you actually have a girlfriend or not?" Angel asked.

"I used to do that, have a girlfriend or something like that," he replied. "But now, I no longer limit myself. Don't tell the country, but I don't believe in monogamy anymore."

"You know I could be recording our conversation right now," Angel told him.

"Something tells me you'll keep this a secret."

"Why don't you believe in monogamy anymore? Did a girl hurt you in the past?"

Fuck Shannon.

"Nothing like that. It's just that, why have one girl when you can have multiple?" Darrow laughed. "What is your opinion on monogamy?"

"I'm conservative, so I believe in it, having grown up as a Christian. I believe in soulmates, a second half, a boyfriend, marriage," she said. "All that sappy stuff."

"Can't say I understand," he said, picking up his wine glass again to sip from it, his eyes still fixed on her with a glint of curiosity.

"Are you very open-minded?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you like having sex with someone you don't know? Like could you fuck someone you just met?" Angel asked, the heat between her legs growing.

"Do you?"

"Yeah, I could do that."

"Aren't you a Christian? How does that work?"

"I guess I'm not devout," she exhaled. Fire was blooming on every surface of her skin. She wanted his mouth on her neck, between the curve of her breasts, down to her navel and right before her tight opening. "So, could you fuck someone you just met?"

"Of course," Darrow smiled. "If she turns me on, why not?"

"Then - "

"Which reminds me. I seem to recall a particular scathing article you authored against me not too long ago. I remember that article because every fact about myself was spot on, and I had never come across an article like that. How did you do your research?"

"I have my methods. It's not important."

"No, tell me. I want to know."

"If I told you, then you might be able to stop me, isn't that right?"

"I'm not so sure about that," Darrow said. "My adversary could know my methods, but that doesn't mean he has the ability to stop them."

"Of course," Angel said.

Of course, dead people don't make very good enemies, do they?

"Well," Angel continued, her breathing steadily becoming ragged. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"Get out of this ballroom?"

"Y-Yeah."

"And go where?" Darrow smiled.

"I don't know, maybe get some air, walk around the garden, find somewhere not as crowded, with nobody around - "

"President!" a burly man appeared from the side and smacked Darrow on the side of his arm.

"Fred! I haven't seen you since graduation!" Darrow grasped his hand and shook it hard.

"Ah! Some jerks never change! You still look like you can bed the entire school! Or rather now, the entire cabinet!"

"I'm not sure you're familiar with my cabinet," Darrow said, laughing.

"What! Don't pretend you have requirements. You'd fuck anyone with a hole. Women, men, young, old - "

"I'll have you thrown out," Darrow joked as he shoved Fred.

"I still remember the day where - " Fred went off on his own, recounting past events that Angel was already much too familiar with.

"President…" Angel trailed off.

President, Darrow, Boyfriend, Soulmate, Other Half, Husband.

"I'm sorry, what was your name again? I forget," Darrow said to her.

"It's Angel."

"Ah, Angel," he said. "And you were saying?"

"Would you - Would you - " Angel started again as his gaze on her solidified. Her nerves spun out of control, and the room shifted to its side. She gasped for air once and steeled herself. "Nevermind," she told him finally, before she turned around to leave.