Chapter 15

I'm so damn fucked.

The second she walked into my restaurant, looking like a single rose blooming in a field of thorns, I knew I was done for. She was right there, so close I could almost reach out and touch her but everything about her screamed untouchable.

Her usual warmth, that effortless sunshine, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she carried herself like a storm in a silk dress, exuding a presence that commanded attention and warned everyone to stay the hell out of her way.

Right now, she wasn't just Iliana—she was business.

The past week had been hell. All I wanted was to see my doll, just a glimpse, just a moment. But instead, I was stuck dealing with the most insufferable motherfucker alive, the potential owner of my New York branch. If it were up to me, I would've put a bullet in his head just to spare myself the headache. And I wouldn't have got caught.

I had to take a trip to New York urgently because he was backing out from the deal.

The deal was set. A price had already been agreed upon, his damn manager shook my hand on it. So why the hell did he feel the need to drag me through endless bullshit? Why did he waste my time, test my patience, and cost me the one thing I actually wanted this week?

I know I screwed up by not texting her. That's on me, I take full responsibility. And if there's one thing I learned about Iliana, it's that she won't let me off easy. She's going to ice me out, make me suffer for it, and knowing her, she'll enjoy every second of watching me squirm.

I had a golden chance with her, something real, something rare and because of that bastard, it slipped right through my fingers.

My thoughts are abruptly cut off by Adrian's loud, exaggerated cough.

Right. Him.

Why the fuck is he here again?

"Are you done sulking, or should I give you a minute?" he asks, leaning back like he owns the damn place.

"Shut the fuck up," I mutter.

He smirks. "Mmm. Talk dirty to me."

Before I can respond, the sharp clicking of heels pulls our attention to the scene unfolding in front of us.

The faint scent of vanilla reaches me first, and then I see them, four women walking toward us with an effortless kind of elegance. Kia and Iliana are deep in conversation, their heads slightly tilted toward each other, while the other two giggle amongst themselves.

Kia's sharp eyes meet mine first. And just as expected, her expression darkens into a glare, full of unspoken accusations. Then, her gaze shifts to the idiot beside me, and I watch as her eyes narrow even further.

But Iliana? She doesn't even spare me a glance.

Not a flicker of acknowledgment. Not a pause, not a second of hesitation. She strides past me without breaking her stride, her voice low and serious as she speaks to, who I assume she introduced me on the ball as her assistant. Her expression is all business sharp, focused, completely uninterested in my existence.

It stings more than it should.

Good, it should.

Adrian, ever the opportunist, steps in front of Kia just as she's about to walk past. "And where do you think you're going, gorgeous?" he drawls, flashing that cocky smile that pisses people off more than it charms them.

Kia rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Away from you Adam."

Beside her, her assistant, Hayley, if I remember correctly—stops too, watching the exchange with a barely concealed smirk.

I, on the other hand, can't seem to look away from Iliana. Because for the first time since we have met, she's treating me like I don't exist. And I fucking hate it.

Should I go talk to her?

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Without giving myself time to second-guess, I push myself up and stride toward her. Her back is turned towards me, completely exposed in that backless black dress, the smooth curve of her spine on full display., posture flawless, radiating that untouchable energy she wears like armor.

Clearing my throat, I say, "Doll."

The word slices through the air, interrupting whatever she was saying.

Her assistant spares me a brief, uncertain glance before quickly returning her attention to Iliana.

If I didn't know her as well as I do, I might've thought she hadn't heard me. But I see it, the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers pause mid-motion before resuming their steady, practiced movements.

"Doll," I say again, firmer this time.

Still nothing. Not a flicker of acknowledgment. Just a perfectly manicured hand tapping something on her assistant's iPad, as if I'm no more than background noise.

Alright. No doll.

My jaw tightens. "Iliana."

Finally, she turns.

And damn it, she's stunning.

Not a single hair out of place, not a single crack in that polished, impenetrable exterior. Just cool, effortless indifference wrapped in silk and confidence. Her expression is unreadable, her eyes detached like I'm nothing more than an afterthought.

"Yeah?" she says, tilting her head slightly. "Oh You're here? That's... surprising."

I exhale through my nose, stepping closer, forcing her to tip her chin up at me. "Missed me, doll?"

Her lips curve, but it's not a smile. It's something sharper, something almost amused. "Oh, desperately," she deadpans. "You know how I am, Zaden. The moment a man ignores me, my world just collapses."

I smirk, inching into her space. "You could've reached out too."

Bad move. Someone shut me the fuck up. Why did I say that?

She lifts a perfectly arched brow, unimpressed. "Oh, absolutely. And while we're at it, should I also help you pick out a nail color? Maybe gossip about our feelings over brunch? What is your favourite lipstick? Let me know if you need a dress or two because I have the best ones, princess."

I don't answer that. Because she's right. And we both know it. My mama has taught me better than to treat a woman any less than she deserves.

I asked for her number. I should be the one to text first. I was the one who initiated things and nudged them in the forward direction.

She lets out a soft sigh. "It's fine, really. You were busy. I get it."

Ficken

(Fuck)

I narrow my eyes, studying her. Too understanding. Too indifferent.

No attitude, no dramatic outburst just this casual, dismissive acceptance that makes my chest tighten.

Because from what I have learned about women over the years, I know I'm in deep shit.

"I should've texted, meine liebe," I say, my voice low.

She shrugs. "It happens."

I don't miss the slight tightness in her jaw, the way her fingers press a little harder into her assistant's iPad.

She's mad. She just won't let herself show it.

And somehow, that's worse than if she were yelling at me.

I take another step forward, forcing her to look up at me. "Iliana."

She finally meets my gaze, and for a second, just a second—I see it. The flicker of something deeper before she blinks it away.

"Yeah?" she asks, tone bored, like I'm keeping her from something more important.

I hold her gaze. "You're pissed."

She laughs lightly. "Pissed? No. That would imply I care."

Ouch.

I lean in, lowering my voice. "You do."

Her smile doesn't waver, but I see the way her nails press into her palm. "You always think so highly of yourself."

I smirk. "Only when it comes to you."

Her expression remains unreadable. "Well, as much fun as this little chat is, I have a business dinner to host. People might start coming in any minute now."

She steps around me, smooth and effortless, like I'm nothing more than a slight inconvenience in her night.

I let her go, but my eyes stay on her, my jaw tightening.

"Oh no, that's bad." Adrian's voice cuts through the air beside me, his tone amused.

I don't look at him, my gaze still following Iliana. "I'll have security escort you in about five seconds."

Adrian takes another sip of his whiskey, unfazed, and smirks. "You think you can intimidate me with threats, Zaden?"

I turn to him, a cold smile tugging at my lips. "They are not threats. They are promises."

He chuckles, swirling his glass. "You're too tense. Relax. What's new? You fucked up."

I glare at him, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "I'm going to fix it and she will be my doll in no time."

Adrian raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my frustration. "When did you started living there?"

"Where?"

"Delusion." He says while smirking.

I don't reply, just clench my jaw harder, watching Iliana. She's not looking back, and I don't think she'll bother. Not unless I do something to fix this.

"I should go talk to her," Adrian continues, leaning back in his chair, still grinning like he's watching a show. "Anyone who fucks with you is my friend without introduction."

I shoot him a look, my patience running thin. "Where is my gun?." I start looking around in my pockets.

He lets out a fucking squeal "I was kidding zaddy zaden. Forgive me." His voice loud, drawing unnecessary attention towards us.

Ignoring him completely, I shift slightly, reaching for my phone, my patience wearing thin. But the moment I make a move, Adrian panics, his grin fading into a nervous expression. Without warning, he bolts toward Iliana, his arms flailing as if he's trying to escape my gaze.

Shit

"Adrian, what the hell are you doing?" I snap, irritation rising in my chest.