My scared little lamb

"I'm sharing a meal with my enemy…," the words slipped out of my mouth just as it came to my head.

I quickly pushed the napkin which was spread on my lap over my mouth, probably it would hold the words back in.

The shattering sounds of cutlery had stopped abruptly. I looked up to the man sitting at the other end. I could feel his heavy gaze on me. He shot daggers with his eyes.

"I'm glad you acknowledge the fact. And it's forbidden, Mrs Taylor." He snapped as he used his own napkin to dab off the little crumb of food on his lip.

"I'm… I'm…ss…." My mouth felt numb, it went open but no word was forthcoming as it trembled.

"Crap!" He exhaled, pinning his fingers to his forehead. "Amazing! You could pluck the feathers off the peacock but not the pride", he smirked at me.

"..." I opened my mouth again, the words were still not forthcoming.

"Darn it! I should have known. Chic." He eyed me.

I gently pulled out of the table, stretching my legs which were feeling numb as well. I bent over, took my six inch heels off and began to massage my foot.

It was just the two of us in the big dining room. I had refused Aunt Malia serving my food right next to him.

I kept on rubbing my delicate palms against the heels of my foot. It hurt a lot. The length I had to run yesterday night from those masked men made it.

The thumping sound from the heavy pound on the table startled me. The villian had out of anger hit the table with his fist.

"Just admit it already Mrs. Taylor," he said as he stood up.

Slowly, I lifted my head to face him. His eyes were on me. I averted mine to avoiding our eyes meeting. I had my focus on this red tie at his neck area. That would seem bold enough, I thought.

Gradually, my feet's went cold. I bent over swiftly to rub my palms against it.

Again.

"You didn't just call me over for a peacemeal?" He asked glaring at me, I sighed, still keeping my former composure, "I should have known better" he pushed the chair aside, dabbed the remaining crumbs off his mouth area and then reached out for his coat on the wooden hanger at the side.

"Goodnight Mrs. Taylor." He said dismissively as he let his coat fold in his arms. He took two powerful strides heading for the door leading to the sitting room of which he must have it in mind to go home through the main entrance.

Adrenaline rushed through, I could not comprehend. My feet's were far more quicker than my thoughts. They made it on time before he went through the door. My long arms grabbed his shirt.

He stopoed in his track and turned to look at me with this wicked smile I know too well.

"Alright, alright, I'll admit it. I need your protection Evan!" I said almost in a scream, bursting into hot tears which I had managed to hold in through out the shortlived meal.

My legs turned wobbly, I was trembling and shaking. In a blink, I was on my knees. Not by will, but by nature, by gravity, by the severity of the matter.

"I need your protection Evan!" I repeated, the words tasted like soar in my mouth. I never for once thought I'd beg this brat. I clenched tighter to his shirt that it pulled of the proper tuck he had when he'd just arrived with his entourage of bodyguards.

He grinned, the sharp lines from his well chiseled jawline became more visible. With corner of my eyes, I watched his mouth twitch.

Suddenly, he raised his right hand in the air. It stayed there for almost a minute when he brought it down and landed on my hands which was fastend to his shirt. He spread his hands over mine and began to peel my finger off his shirt.

"Haha, bitch!" He spat, moving an inch away.

"Evan they are after my life," I said one more time.

"Who are they? How does this concern me?" He said with a raised brow.

"You know what I mean. I'd trade it to you," I said looking up to him.

"The stone??" He asked with his eyes looking out the dinning window.

"I need your protection and in exchange, I'm ready to trade my family's most priced possession." Sweats had started to form on my forehead.

"The Mozilla fire rare Zaza diamond of the Taylor lineage?" He asked with an evil grin.

"Yes" I replied, my face buried in my palms.

"The Zaza stone aged three thousand years??"

"Yes and yes Mr. O'Neal. I would give that to you in exchange that you protect my life. I want to live." I said sobbing and sniffling without looking up to him.

Out of the blue, I felt a sudden tap on my back. He was the one.

I looked up, his hands were out urging me to get up from the ground.

"Well, get up pest." He said, averting his gaze to the long mahogany.

"..." I did as he bidded me but with support by holding unto one of the chairs. Wherever my father was, he must be shaking his head at me in disappointment.

"How the lion begot a lamb," I missed O'Neal's evil grin as he slammed me with this words. My Dad or any of my ancestors would never give off the Zaza diamond for anything in the world.

"You're a wise lamb, my dear Dellina." He smirked.

"I bumped into my mum's killer at the senatorial yesternight." I blurted out. "He had a gun." I clasped my hands over my mouth, trembling, the memories washed pass.

"He was not alone O'Neal, they were everywhere." My whole body began to tremble, pulled my hands closer, vutting it nervously.

"Oh, shhhhh," he placed his finger over my lips. "My scared little lamb. There's only one way." His aura became darker. He's eyes became darker.

"But I'm giving you the Zaza stone??" I said puzzled by his remark.

"You'll have to marry me Mrs. Taylor," he said, smiled at me and then with two powerful strides, he walked out of the dining, out of the house and the next thing I heard was the engine of the numerous cars he came with.

I stood in the dining, looking out the window.