Chapter 18

Kia lounged in the recliner, her MacBook balanced on her lap as she typed away. Without looking up, she asked, "If you could change your name to anything else, what would you pick?"

I stirred the ramen on the stove, considering the question. "Anything Else."

Kia blinked at me. "What?"

"What what? Anything Else. That's my answer," I said, as if it were obvious.

Kia narrowed her eyes. "No, I meant—" She exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. "You're messing with me."

"I'm not." I frowned, genuinely confused. "You said anything else. That was the only choice given."

Kia groaned, shutting her laptop with an unnecessary amount of force. "It was a hypothetical question, Iliana, not an invitation to be a smartass."

I scoffed, turning back to my ramen. "Well, I thought it was a very reasonable answer."

"Of course, you did," Kia muttered. "You'd probably name a perfume This Smells Nice just because someone asked what it smells like."

I gasped. "That's actually a good idea. Hold on, let me write that down."

She shook her head and went back to her work.

My phone pinged.

I glanced down, and a smile tugged at my lips. Zaden. True to his word at the dinner party a few days ago, he'd been texting me every chance he got—checking in, making conversation, asking how I was.

"Pathetic," Kia scoffed.

I laughed, locking my phone. "Oh, please. Don't think I failed to notice the little thing you have going on with Adrian."

Kia's fingers froze over her keyboard. "What? There's no—" She scoffed, shaking her head. "That's ridiculous."

"Uh-huh." I smirked, watching as a blush crept up her cheeks.

Kia cleared her throat and quickly looked back at her screen, typing furiously. But this time, there was a tiny smile on her lips.

My phone pinged, and I glanced down at the screen.

Zaden: Go out with me, doll.

I froze. Was he... asking me out? Like, actually? Someone pinch me—no, on second thought, knock me out because this felt surreal.

I stared at the message, my brain short-circuiting. Was this a question or a command? Knowing him, probably both. My fingers hovered over the keyboard as my heart did an embarrassing little flip. Clearing my throat, I tried to play it cool.

Me: Are you asking me or telling me?

His reply came instantly.

Zaden: Whichever one gets you to say yes faster.

I rolled my eyes, pretending that response didn't send a thrill down my spine. Before I could type back, Kia peeked over my shoulder.

"Wow. He really has you blushing like a teenager. Should I start planning the wedding?"

I scowled, locking my phone and shoving it under my arm. "Mind your own business, you menace."

Kia smirked. "Oh, please. The real menace here is you letting Mr. Tall, Dark, and Bossy get under your skin."

Before she could keep running her mouth, my phone pinged again.

Zaden: Doll, you're thinking too hard. Just say yes.

I chewed on my lip, trying not to grin like an idiot.

Me: Fine. But I'm making you pay for dessert.

Zaden: Sweetheart, you could order the whole menu, and I still wouldn't mind.

Okay. Yeah. I was done for.

I slip into a pink sundress—a soft, flowy number with delicate floral patterns, thin straps that tie at my shoulders, and a cinched waist that flatters just right. The skirt flutters around my thighs as I move, light and effortless, perfect for a lunch date that I refuse to call a date.

Just as I adjust my bracelets and give myself one last look in the mirror, my phone buzzes.

Zaden: I'm outside.

Of course, he is. Punctual and persistent.

I grab my bag, take a deep breath, and head out, pretending my heart isn't racing just a little at the thought of seeing him.

I grab my purse and head for the door when Kia calls out, stopping me in my tracks.

"Okay, but damn," she whistles, looking me up and down. "If he doesn't try to ruin that dress by the end of lunch, he's a stronger man than I thought."

I groan, throwing a pillow at her. "Jesus, Kia. Try being normal for once."

She dodges it effortlessly, grinning. "No fun in that. But seriously, you look hot. Have fun on your not-a-date with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Domineering."

I roll my eyes but can't hide my smirk as I walk out, my heart picking up speed the moment I step into the elevator.

When I get downstairs, there he is.

Zaden leans against a sleek, black Mustang, arms crossed, looking like he walked straight out of a damn movie. His white polo fits just right, snug around his biceps, while his navy-blue trousers add an effortless sophistication. Tattoos snake up his arms, intricate designs of roses, skulls, and patterns covering his skin like art on a canvas. There's even a glimpse of ink peeking from his collar, teasing at more hidden beneath his shirt.

He watches me approach, eyes dark and unreadable, but there's something else there—something sharp, hungry. Like he's already decided I'm his, and I just don't know it yet.

When I stop in front of him, he tilts his head slightly, his gaze dragging over me so slowly it makes my skin heat. Then, his lips curl into the slightest smirk.

"Get in the car, doll," he murmurs, voice low and commanding. "Before I decide lunch can wait."

He effortlessly closes the distance between us, his hands finding my waist and pulling me flush against him. The warmth of his touch sends an instant shiver through me, and I can't help but inhale sharply.

His scent—clean, rich, with a hint of spice—wraps around me, and as he leans down, his breath hot against my skin, I feel my heart race. He hums softly in approval, then presses a light kiss to my cheek, sending a jolt of heat straight to my core.

"You look absolutely stunning, doll," he murmurs, his voice low and rich, like silk brushing over my skin.

I freeze for a moment, completely caught off guard by the intensity of his words. My heart skips, and I forget everything around me—my mind's a blur as I try to gather myself.

Before I can even think to respond, he pulls away just slightly, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I brought something for you," he says, his voice carrying that playful undertone as he reaches into the passenger seat.

He pulls out a bouquet of white roses, pink roses, and lilacs, the soft colors standing out against the dark interior of the car. The mix of blooms is both elegant and unexpected, just like him. He holds them out toward me, the gesture surprisingly tender for someone so... intense.

I blink, a little taken aback. "For me?" I ask, my voice catching slightly as I take in the beauty of the flowers.

His smirk widens. "Only the best for my doll."

The gesture melts something inside me, and I can't help the soft smile that tugs at my lips. "You're full of surprises," I tease, accepting the bouquet, my fingers brushing against his as I take them.

He steps back, admiring me for a moment, his eyes dark with amusement. "I like keeping you on your toes," he says with a wink.

He pulls back just enough to look at me again, those dark eyes studying me with an unreadable expression. "You okay?" he asks, his voice teasing, and his thumb gently brushes over my waist, still warm from holding me close. It's a subtle touch, but it feels like he's daring me to respond.

I blink, trying to regain my composure. "I'm fine," I say, my voice a little breathless, my pulse quickening with the way he's making me feel.

A slow, knowing grin spreads across his face. "You sure about that?" he asks, his tone playful as he opens the door for me. "After you, doll."

I slide into the car, still feeling the heat of his touch lingering on me. When he follows, slipping into the driver's seat, he starts the engine, then casually throws his arm across the back of my seat. I can't help but notice the way his tattoos stretch across his arm, the vines winding around his muscles like they belong there.

As he glances back to reverse, the way he moves is pure control. Every shift, every flex of his muscles, is hypnotizing, and I can't tear my eyes away. The smoothness of his movements, the focus in his gaze—it's all commanding, making my heart race even faster, and my thighs clench without thinking.

I can barely breathe, the tension between us thickening. "God, you're ridiculously hot," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper, though I know he hears.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He rubs his mouth with his hand, hiding the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, but I can still see it in his eyes. He shifts in his seat, turning his face slightly toward the window, as though he's trying to hide his grin.

I raise an eyebrow, keeping my voice light and teasing. "What? I'm just admiring the view. No harm in that."

Zaden chuckles darkly, the sound low and seductive. "No problem, doll," he says, his voice smooth like honey. "It's all yours."

His eyes flick to mine, filled with that dangerous, teasing glint, and I can't help but smile. The game between us is far from over, and the tension in the air is almost unbearable, but I don't think I want it to end.

The rest of the ride passes in silence....from his side, I on the other hand find myself rambling about everything and anything. It's like I can't shut my mouth, even though I'm not sure why I'm talking so much.

Maybe it's the way he's looking at me, maybe it's the childhood trauma, or maybe I'm just trying to fill the air with words to distract myself from the heavy, unspoken tension.

I don't even remember half of what I said—I probably something about ducks or alcoholism or The office.

But through it all, Zaden listens. He doesn't interrupt, doesn't try to rush me, just lets me speak with that quiet intensity, his eyes never leaving the road but his attention fully on me.

I glance over, catching his eyes for a split second. "You really gonna sit there and listen to me ramble about nonsense?" I ask, half-laughing at myself. "I swear, you must be a saint."

I was just being modest. I don't speak nonsense. Infact one should write whatever I say and publish it. It can save a lot of lives.

Zaden doesn't smile, but his eyes flicker with something akin to amusement. "Maybe I'm just a really good listener, doll," he says smoothly, voice low and almost teasing. "Or maybe I'm just enjoying the sound of your voice."

I laugh softly, but the warmth that spreads through me is undeniable. He listens with such focused interest that I can't help but feel like I'm the only one in the world. Whether he's a great actor or genuinely engaged, I have no idea. But either way, it makes me feel like I'm important in this moment.

"But seriously, my favorite color is red," I admit, a little sheepish. "I don't usually tell people that when they ask, though."

Zaden shifts his gaze to me, the corners of his lips curving into a slight, knowing smile. "Oh yeah?" he teases, his voice low and smooth. "What do you usually say then, doll?"

I can't help but smirk, "Clear, of course. I try to be as transparent as possible. Am I making myself clear?"

Zaden chuckles, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Of course, ma'am," he replies, his voice dripping with mock formality, his grin widening. "Crystal clear."

The back-and-forth feels easy, almost natural, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It's just the two of us, caught in this fun, teasing dynamic that feels like something more.