There was a look of grim determination on Roman's face as he guided his car through the town's pristine streets, narrowly avoiding hitting a pedestrian on several occasions and dangerously ignoring more than a few stop signs.
"Where are we going?" Maya demanded, her voice managing to rise above the thumping music to make its way into his ears.
Roman ignored her, pressing his foot down harder on the gas pedal. The Ferrari's quiet, powerful engine let out a satisfying small roar in response.
"Where are we going?" Maya repeated, this time sounding even more pissed off.
Roman gripped the steering wheel, trying not to explode from irritation, because in all honesty, he had no fucking idea. Not about where they were going, or why the stupid girl was in his car in the first place. He hadn't planned to drag her inside, it had just… happened.
It’s official. I've gone certifiably insane, he thought. The past week had started off promisingly enough, but then it devolved into a disaster. How fucking hard was it for so many students to break one girl?
His violet eyes narrowed slightly as he examined her out of the corner of his eye. With her delicate features, silky straight dark hair, and uniform that still bore the faintest remains of food stains despite countless washes, she looked more fragile than the overpriced Lalique figurines his mother scattered all around the house.
But if that was true, why the hell was she still here?
"Are you going to answer me?"
Was she really still talking?
"Shut up," he finally replied crankily, though his words were mostly drowned out by the music. Whatever. He didn't care if she heard him or not.
When the car finally reached its destination, Roman, who had been driving without really thinking about where he was going, was surprised to be faced with a pair of exceedingly familiar wrought-iron gates.
Even though he couldn't see it, Roman knew an invisible scanner, part of the Fiori mansion's astronomically expensive, state-of-the-art security system, was taking in all the details of the car and its inhabitants at that very moment. A mere ten seconds later, the gates opened, sliding smoothly into the high, thick brick walls on either side.
Roman was oddly pleased to see a fleeting look of awe on Maya’s face until she quickly covered up.
Thankfully, she remained silent until he had pulled up right in front of his family’s imposing, palace-like mansion. The minute Roman fully stopped the car, Maya threw open the door, burst out onto the cobblestones, and ran down the driveway.
At least, that was what probably would have happened had she been able to get the door open. Unfortunately, Roman's customized Ferrari was so high-tech and complicated Maya couldn't quite figure it out, which was how Roman ended up standing by the passenger side with a smirk on his face as he watched her struggle to get out. He had locked the doors and made no move to help her.
Maya glared at him through the glass. "Let me out, you bastard!" Her voice was muffled by the shatter-proof glass.
Roman's smirk grew wider. He leaned against the side of the car so he was looking at her profile. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest and thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.
"Let me OUT!"
He yawned, staring up at the sky. "Still don't know what you're saying," he declared loudly.
Maya's full lips thinned. She sat up straighter, narrowing her eyes, and drew in a deep breath. "I SAID LET ME OUT YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING SCUM OF THE EARTH!" she screamed so loud it would've shattered any regular glass ten times over. She punctuated her furious statement with an equally furious pounding on the window.
An angry hiss escaped Roman's lips, her insult finally setting off his temper's already short fuse. He violently yanked open the door, surprising the girl inside and causing her to nearly tumble on the ground.
To her credit, Maya stumbled only a bit before straightening up and brushing off her skirt. Sparks of fire were practically flying out of her eyes as she glared at him.
Roman glared back. What the fuck did she have to be angry about? He hadn't been the one insulting her in front of her own house!
"Drive me home right now!"
Roman's jaw nearly dropped at her astonishing demand. No one talked to him like that! Where was the groveling, the simpering, the fear? This was unacceptable!
"Do I look like your goddamned chauffeur?" he ground out, his voice low and dangerous.
She tilted her chin up stubbornly. "Since you apparently like driving me around so much, I would say yes, you rather do."
Her haughty tone of voice made Roman's blood boil until he was afraid he would explode. "God, you're a bitch!"
"Bitch. How original. Is that the best you can come up with?"
Roman's hands clenched into fists before he raised one arm, causing Maya to flinch.
He noted this with smug satisfaction. Though he would never hit a girl, it gave him immense pleasure to see her squirm. Gripping one of her arms, he dragged her toward the front entrance without a word.
"Let me go! What are you doing?" Maya struggled to escape his grasp, but it was like an iron shackle on her forearm.
Roman stormed into the foyer, dragging the unwilling girl behind him and tuning out her inane babble, even as he tried to ignore how soft and smooth her skin felt.
Suddenly, he froze, causing Maya to slam into his back. He barely noticed. Soft and smooth…? Where the hell had that thought come from?
Shaking his head slightly, Roman set his jaw and resumed his trek through the house. He need to get rid of this girl somehow, and fast. She was driving him crazier than he'd ever thought he could be.
* * *
"Eat."
I stared suspiciously at the admittedly delicious-looking slice of chocolate cake in front of me but made no move to touch it.
"No," I said, rather stubbornly. I knew I was being difficult, but can you blame me? The spawn of Satan decided to kidnap me after school, bring me to his house, mock me, and he was now…feeding me chocolate cake? Hmmm, now which one of those does not fit in with the others?
Roman narrowed his eyes at me from across the tile counter. "It's not poisoned, you know."
I sniffed disbelievingly. I had no way of knowing whether or not it really was poisoned—I wouldn't put it past him. Besides, even if it wasn't, I in no way wanted to ingest something that was even remotely associated with the name Fiori.
"Why don't you just cut to the chase and explain to me why I'm here," I snapped, shifting on the stool I was currently perched on.
A part of me was aware how ridiculous this scene was, me and Roman Fiori, chatting over cake in his obscenely huge kitchen.
Well, we weren't really chatting, but you get the idea.
"If you're not going to eat the cake, then I will," Roman said, ignoring my request. Without waiting for an answer, he slid the plate back over to his side and spooned a creamy chocolate chunk into his mouth.
I swallowed as my mouth involuntarily watered. Damn it…To make matters worse, my stomach chose just that moment to let out a loud, hungry growl, like it was scolding me for only feeding it a sandwich and some water today.
Roman smirked, but didn't offer me the cake again. Bastard.
Not that I would've changed my mind and accepted the offer, of course.
I glared at him. "I know you have an ulterior motive for bringing me here, so you might as well just spit it out." My fingers tightened on the edge of the table. "Do you have a mob waiting to finish me off once and for all?”
"Please," Roman scoffed. "Like I need a mob to finish you off."
"Right. So it's not like your twisted plan to run me out of school hadn't failed or anything," I retorted sweetly. I almost flinched when the words left my mouth. I was playing with fire here, but I couldn't help it. There was something about him that just makes me blurt things out without thinking.
Roman's suspiciously (and unusually) calm demeanor cracked a bit and I could see anger flare up in that chiseled face of his again.
Such a shame, really, that someone so good-looking could be such a monster…
Wait, what the heck? Why was I even thinking that? I should not be focusing on his looks right now! It’s not like I was one of his mindless groupies.
Get it together, Lindberg.
"The game isn't over yet," he snarled, before getting a hold of himself. Calming down once again, he eyed me speculatively. "But since you want to know so bad, I brought you here to offer you a means of surrender."
"A means of surrender…" I repeated slowly. This was going to be good.
"Yes." Roman straightened up and studied me the way a lab assistant would study a research subject under a microscope. "If you surrender and publicly apologize for the rude way you spoke to me at the party, promising to stay out of my way and never cross me again, I will see to it that all the…inconveniences you've been experiencing lately will cease."
"Inconveniences."
"Yes. As long as you agree to the terms I just stated."
"The terms you just stated."
Roman shot me an exasperated look. "Did a parrot fly in here while I wasn't looking and take over brain?" he growled, his temper back in full force.
He was clearly bipolar.
I smiled sweetly. "Of course not," I cooed, feeling a flash of satisfaction at the surprise that leapt up in his eyes at my tone of voice. "Don't be silly." I stepped closer. "Even I have to admit your offer is so generous there's only one thing I can say…SCREW YOU!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, nearly shaking from the intensity of the fury I felt inside. I emphasized my statement with a loud slap across his face. I swear the sound echoed in the huge room.
I only had a moment to revel in the absolute shock that crossed his face—now marred by a bright red handprint on his left cheek—before I regained my senses, took advantage of his temporary immobility, and hauled ass out of there.
* * *
She had slapped him. Slapped him. Him. Roman Fiori. Sole heir to a fortune so vast it probably couldn't even be translated into hard cash because there weren't enough hundred dollar bills in existence. The leader of the Scions. Ranked as the #1 billionaire heir under the age of 25 by a leading global business magazine. The most powerful teenager in Valesca.
Roman gritted his teeth as he reached up to touch his cheek. It had been hours since Maya had left him standing there in the kitchen, too stunned to move.
He could almost still feel the sting of her slap. What shocked him even more than the act itself, though, was the mixture of emotions that had been plaguing him since the incident. Sure, he was furious, but he was also confused. After all, his offer had been exceptionally generous; for any other person, Roman would've gone to all lengths to make sure they would never wanted to step foot in Valesca again. The emotions that worried him most, though, were those of reluctant admiration and something else he couldn't quite name, but was sure he didn't like.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Roman stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, trying to calculate his next move. However, the only thing his mind could focus on was Maya slapping him across the face. Maya trudging home from school before he'd brought her here. Maya getting harassed by the other students. Maya yelling at him at that party.
The events of the last week sped through his mind like a tape on repeat rewind, flying by faster and faster until he felt like his head was about to explode.
"Agh!" Bolting upright, he flung his pillow across the room, where it hit the wall with a dull thud before sliding to the floor. Unfortunately, the pillow-throwing did nothing to alleviate his inner turmoil.
Roman scowled. "Stupid, stupid girl…" he muttered under his breath. "Stupid Adriana. Stupid Stan Hoffman…if he hadn't thrown that party, none of this would have happened…" He was quite aware of how ridiculous he sounded, but no one else was here, so who gave a fuck?
However, despite himself, Roman couldn't help but possess a burning curiosity about Maya. He hadn't bothered to really learn much about her, but now, for some reason, he wanted to know more. How did this girl, who had managed to slip past not just his but all of his friends' radars for so long, manage to withstand what had broken so many others in the past? Her resilience both frustrated and intrigued him.
He hadn't been in this much emotional turmoil since…well, ever. He really needed to get the damn girl off his mind, though he had a sneaking suspicion it would not be easy.
Roman narrowed his eyes as he went over his possible courses of action.
After deliberating for a few minutes, he grabbed his phone from his nightstand and scrolled through his phonebook until he came to the right number.
The phone rang only once before Richard, his father’s third assistant and his occasional personal assistant, picked up.
"It's me," Roman said, not bothering with niceties as he slid off his bed and walked over to the dresser mirror. He stared at his reflection. Was it just his imagination, or was there still the slightest hint of pink on his cheek? "Listen, I need you to get some information for me…”
* * *
He didn't seem to be coming after me. I glanced cautiously over my shoulder, but I didn't see a Ferrari attempting to run me over, and it had already been fifteen minutes.
Even though Roman was probably scheming up another plan to make my life more of a hell than it already was, at least he wasn't chasing me down. I'm not slow or anything, but I can't outrun an Italian sports car. Hell, even Usain Bolt can't outrun that Ferrari.
With a sigh, I trudged down the sidewalk, though I was unable to stop myself from gawking at the glimpses of huge mansions hidden by thick, lush shrubbery and tall iron gates. I was willing to bet none of them could rival the Fioris' massive estate. It may house the devil himself in that opulent interior, but it had all the trappings of a paradise on earth. When Roman had pulled inside the gates, it was all I could do not to gasp out loud at the sheer luxury of it all. The main house itself could put Versailles to shame.
I shook my head slightly.
I couldn’t believe arrogant twits like Roman got to lounge around their mansions and fly their private jets to ridiculously expensive locales where they did the exact same things they do at home—shop, party and turn their noses up at those less fortunate than themselves—when there were people starving out there.
There is no justice in the world.
Something rustled in a nearby bush, and I jumped nearly ten feet in the air. I stared at the bush warily until a furry brown squirrel hopped out, bushy tail sticking straight up. It stopped and stared at me for a second before scuttling up the trunk of a nearby tree.
I let out the breath I had been holding and laughed. God, I was paranoid, but it was getting dark, and I had never been to this area before. I wasn't even sure how to get home.
My smile morphed into a grimace as I stared forlornly at my broken phone. I'd tried to put it back together after leaving the Fiori residence, but it wouldn’t work. Valesca was as safe as a town could possibly be, but that didn't mean I was ok with wandering the streets at night with no means of communication. Besides, my mom would flip.
Having resolved to phone home at the nearest pay phone, I had just resumed walking when I saw a car coming my way from down the otherwise empty road. I immediately stiffened. The black Range Rover looked awfully familiar…
It slowed to a stop next to me, and the windows lowered to reveal the handsome face of Carlo Tevasco.
I let out a groan. Are you freaking kidding me? Was today Harass Maya With Your Car day?
"Hey."
I eyed him suspiciously. "Hi…"
"What are you doing here?" His voice was surprisingly low and gentle.
"Walking," I answered blithely.
He raised his eyebrows. "I can see that." Then his eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't tell me you just came from Roman's house."
I didn't say anything.
Carlo laughed softly, his expression one of amusement and something else I couldn't place.
"Are you planning to walk all the way home?"
"Yes." I tilted my chin up. "It's good exercise."
"And a good way to get killed."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, the probability of me getting bludgeoned to death with a designer stiletto is pretty high at this time, given my current social status." I pursed my lips. "Shouldn't you be yelling insults at me right now? After all, I did offend your good buddy Roman." My voice dripped with sarcasm.
Carlo shrugged his broad shoulders. "It's not like he didn't deserve it." His mouth quirked up into a smile at my shocked expression. "Don't look so surprised. He's my friend, which means I'm well aware of both his strengths and weaknesses."
"Strengths?" I snorted. "I wasn't aware he had any."
"Yeah, well, I guess it's all relative," Carlo said rather amiably.
I cocked my head to one side as I studied him. Now that I looked more closely, he really wasn't as intimidating-looking as I'd once thought, unless you count how intimidatingly good-looking he was. His thick, wavy black hair just reached the top of his collar, framing a strong, masculine face with thick dark brows set above fathomless ebony eyes, chiseled cheekbones, and smooth olive skin. Despite the overwhelming masculinity of his appearance though, there was a touch of vulnerability that I couldn't quite put my finger on, which softened his entire look in the best way possible.
"Are you done staring at me?" Carlo's tone was wry.
I flushed. "I wasn't staring at you," I lied crossly.
"Right." He shot me a skeptical look but didn't say anything else. Instead, he looked me over, and with a sigh, said, "I'm taking you home."
"No you're not," I replied almost involuntarily. I couldn't help it—it was a knee-jerk response. Part of me still couldn't quite believe I was having a civil conversation with a Scion. I was half-convinced I was going to wake up in my bed any minute now.
Carlo draped one arm over the open window and eyed me. "I don't usually do charity cases, but you've been through more than enough already. I really don't want to hear about you getting kidnapped or raped on the news."
"What are the chances of that happening?" I demanded, bristling a bit at the term 'charity case.' I was nobody's charity case. Nevertheless, a shiver of unease went down my spine. Call me superstitious, but now I was a little afraid something was going to happen just because I voiced my opinion that it wouldn't.
Carlo shrugged. "You never know. Valesca's pretty safe, but it's dark, you're a pretty girl walking alone, and there's some crazy people out there." As if to punctuate his point, a dog howled somewhere in the background, the sound echoing eerily in the otherwise silent neighborhood.
I nearly shot into the passenger seat. "Fine, I give in," I said, buckling my seatbelt. "You can take me home."
He looked at me incredulously. "Only you would be able to make it sound like you're doing me a favor," he chortled, making a sharp U-turn that threw me against the passenger door.
"Ow," I complained. "The reason I got in was so I wouldn't get killed, you know."
"Sorry. So where do you live?"
I gave him my address, and we settled into a comfortable silence as he navigated the pristine streets.
As I stared out the window at the passing scenery, I was surprised that I really was comfortable. I had never spoken to Carlo Tevasco in my life before today, and I'd never had any desire to, but my vibes about people were generally pretty accurate. I could tell Carlo had been genuine the entire time we'd been talking, and he was a lot nicer than I thought any Scion could be. Plus, he had a sense of humor, which was always a plus.
"So, were you on your way to visit…him?" I asked, trying to utter the devil's name as few times as possible.
"No, I live there."
"Oh." I blinked. "That makes sense." Perfect sense. The area where Roman and Carlo lived was the most expensive part of town. Of course the Scions lived there.
"What type of music do you listen to?" Carlo fiddled with the radio.
"Any kind, except for country." I wrinkled my nose a little. "There are very few country songs I like."
"So which ones do you like?" He sounded curious.
I shifted in my seat. "Um…some Taylor Swift and Carrie Underwood songs," I mumbled.
Carlo laughed. "Never figured you to be the type of girl who listened to Taylor Swift."
I arched one eyebrow. "Meaning?"
"I got the impression you were one tough cookie. I expected you to say heavy metal or rock."
I rolled my eyes. "Way to stereotype. Besides, do I look like a rocker to you?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes stereotypes make things a lot easier." His voice was wistful.
I was about to ask him what he meant when he abruptly changed the subject. "You know, you’re a lot nicer than I thought you’d be. How’d you manage to stay under the radar for so long?”
I actually laughed aloud at that one. I was nicer than he expected? More like he was nicer than I expected.
"Thanks…I think," I answered wryly. Feeling compelled to say something nice back, I added, "You're not as surly as I thought you were."
Another smile softened his face even more. "Thanks…I think." His tone matched mine. "I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m not a nice guy.”
"Well, for one, you barely talk in school," I pointed out. "Plus, look at who you hang out with."
"My friends are good guys. Yes, even Roman," he added at the look on my face. "In their own ways. But—" He abruptly stopped.
"But?" I prompted. I was becoming more and more comfortable around him, especially since he was one of the few people who had been even remotely nice to me this week.
"Nothing," he muttered, staring at the road straight ahead. "I already said too much."
Too much? He'd barely said anything past the superficial. Guys are just weird, I reflected. Still, the mood in the car was comforting, and I could feel myself sinking against the plush leather seat, some of the tension knots in my shoulders relaxing a little.
"Besides, you didn't answer my question."
"What question?"
Carlo stopped at a red light, and he turned to face me, the streetlight casting a faint crimson glow over his sculpted features. "How'd you manage to stay under the radar for so long?"
I shrugged. "Lots of practice and determination. Last thing I needed was to be thrust into the spotlight here."
"Most people live for the spotlight."
Like you and your friends, I wanted to say, but didn't. "Not me. It's too troublesome." My mouth thinned. "As I've learned all too well the past week."
The light turned green, and Carlo pressed on the gas, bypassing the particularly slow Lexus in front of us. He was silent for a while. "I feel like I should apologize for that."
I let out a sigh. "It's not really your fault." I couldn't believe these words were coming out of my mouth, but I meant them. Carlo had never personally hurt me, physically or otherwise. The only people I blame are the Valesca lemmings and of course, Roman Fiori.
"Not directly. But indirectly…" He paused, then seemed to shut down again. "Of course, I make it a point not to interfere with Roman's affairs." He pulled up in front of my house. I could see my mom pacing nervously in the living room window, and I winced. I was going to get a verbal beating for sure.
"Thanks for giving me a ride. I really appreciate it," I said, opening the door.
Carlo gazed at my house, taking in the small but tidy lawn, the red stucco roof, and the well-kept if modestly priced Toyota in the driveway. My father’s promotion meant we could get a nicer car, but my mom was really attached to the Camry for some reason. "How many people live in this house?"
"Just my parents and myself." I frowned. "Why?"
"You can fit three people in there?" He sounded shocked.
I let out a huff. Here I was, thinking he was actually pretty down-to-earth, and he had to go say something like that. "Of course it can," I said crossly. "We're more than comfortable."
"If you say so." He sounded unconvinced, but as he looked at me, a faint glimmer of that strange, unidentifiable look I saw earlier crept back into his eyes. "Well, it's certainly been an eye-opening night."
"I suppose." I was lingering, I knew, but I wasn't eager to go inside. Mainly it was because I didn't want my mom yelling at me, but I was also surprisingly disappointed to be saying goodbye to Carlo. I was almost certain our sort-of bonding time was a one-time experience. "Well, good night."
Carlo gave me a faint smile. "Good night." With that, he pulled out of the driveway and sped off.
Apparently, he really had been driving a lot more cautiously with me in the passenger seat.
I stood in the driveway for a moment, mulling over the day's strange events. My life had become a lot more troublesome, but at least it wasn’t boring.
Although, to be honest, excitement can be overrated.