CHAPTER 17

Aurelia

Daniel spits on the ground, wiping at his bloody mouth as he gets to his feet. "Get in the car," Kane says.

"And just what do you think you're doing, Daddy's boy?" Daniel staggers

in our direction. I shy away from him, stepping behind Kane. "I'll tell your father about this; let's see how much of a tough guy you are when I bring your empire crumbling around you." He steps forward, reaching for me. "And this little slut-"

Kane's arm darts out in the blink of an eye, grasping the side of Daniel's head and slamming it against the cement wall. The sickening crack makes me jump back as he crumbles to the ground, groaning in pain.

"Kane-"

He turns around, his eyes hard, and says, "Get in the fucking car."

I bite my tongue, swallowing my words back. A shiver rolls through me as I make my way to his Aston Martin double-parked on the street. Something heavy drapes around my shoulders.

His suit coat.

He holds open the car door for me, and I hesitate before going in. "Thank you."

His jaw tickles.

I get into his car, and he slams the door after me hard.

I pull the lapels of his coat tighter as he rounds the car, getting into the driver's seat. He pulls away from the curb without saying a word.

We're soaked; the leather seats in his car are collecting water. The rain is so heavy that I can barely see or hear anything beside the thundering downpour. "Kane... I-"

"Not now." His hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Don't say a word to me right now, Aurelia."

Again, I bite my tongue. The anger pours off him in waves; it's almost hard to share the same oxygen as him right now. My eyes land on his knuckles, bruised and red from where he hit Daniel.

"I'm sorry." I whisper.

"Don't apologize to me." He snaps. "What the hell were you thinking?" The tears return, making a path down my cheeks. "I didn't know he was following me."

"What were you doing at that party?"

"What?"

"Throwing yourself at him like some type of cheap whore. You think this is a fucking fairytale? Why the hell were you dancing with him?"

"D-Dad made me do it." I stutter.

"Your father made you act like a bitch in heat." His words are so harsh. They do nothing but worsen my state, making me curl into myself as the tears come faster. The car stops at a red light. I wipe at my cheeks, feeling his gaze on me.

His hand reaches out, and unintentionally, I flinch away. He lets out a harsh breath. "You're scared of me?" "No."

"Let me see your hand."

Confused, I oblige, holding it out to him. He grabs my forearm, his eyes examining my bruised wrist from where Daniel had pinned me against the wall. His fat finger-shaped marks turned purplish along my pale skin.

"I didn't know he was going to follow me." I hiccup. He lets go of my arm. "Stop crying."

I only cry harder.

His jaw works, but he doesn't say anything else. We drive for a while, but his vision must be just as messy as mine, because he pulls the car into a roadside motel. It's not a wash off the street, but it's not five stars either.

He cuts off the engine, getting out and rounding the car to the passenger side. Pulling his coat from around my shoulders, soaking wet, he holds it up like a tent.

Warmth pools in my chest as I get out and stand under it. He's still so angry; I can still sense it, yet he doesn't let me get more wet than I already am as we make our way to the reception.

"Sorry, sir, but we're down to our last room, unfortunately." The lady behind the desk tells an impatient Kane. "I hope it'll be okay for you and your partner."

He says nothing, grabbing the keys from the desk and gesturing for me to walk ahead of him. A cold draft slips into the room the moment he closes the door behind him.

There's only one bed.

He tosses the keys on the desk, loosening his tie as he walks up to the phone.

I watch him, silently shivering in the corner, trying to make myself as small as possible. Something tells me I won't be able to withstand the force of his wrath through the rest of the evening.

"Warm towels." He speaks to the receiver, "Water, something hot, a beverage... yes. Make it quick." Once the call ends, he runs a hand through his wet hair, disappearing into the bathroom. He comes out a moment later.

"There's hot water." He says, not even meeting my eyes, "Shower." His tone leaves no room for argument.

I do as he says, mostly because I might catch pneumonia if I don't.

I'm hesitant to leave the bathroom; the only item provided is a tiny towel that barely covers my ass. That, and the fact that I'm less than enthusiastic about facing a pissed-off Kane.

But I'm not a coward.

There's a steaming cup untouched on the table. He has his hands folded across his chest as he leans against the wall, his eyes on me.

Slowly, they trail down my body. It feels like his dark gaze is stripping away a layer of my exposed flesh.

I clear my throat, my voice small. "Is this for me?"

Up close, his gaze is dry as gin, but there's an underlying intensity lingering in the green pools of his irises, heating the edges of his vision as I move closer, his eyes lingering on the visible swells of my breasts.

I fight a shiver. Reaching for the mug, I take a sip. He moves away from the wall, approaching me. I try not to react physically, but my eyes flutter shut as his presence touches my back.

Where did all the air go?