MoboReader> Billionaires > A Drink with the Devil

   Chapter 4 Four

A Drink with the Devil By Aubrey Wolfe Characters: 21176

Updated: 2019-04-27 00:43


"Where are we going? I didn't expect you to be out of there in a hurry, " Angelo asks when we're back in the car.

"My father called, he said he's leaving for Boston, he was called back for a reason he didn't feel like sharing. But he didn't fail to remind me to speak to my brother about settling down, becoming more mature."

He gives me an odd look.

"How does he expect you to do that? You're his younger brother, not exactly someone to be giving him relationship and future advice."

"That's what I said."

We continue our ride in silence, and I take the time to think of what I'm going to say to my brother.

I ask Frank if Darius is home when we get through the door, and he points me towards his office. I knock lightly but walk in when I realize the door in unlocked – and walk right into him undressing a random girl.

"Bro, what the hell?" he cries and tries to cover himself, pushing the girl away. She scurries for her clothes, both of them in a panic, as I stand calmly at the door, waiting for them to decent themselves.

"Can she leave? We have business to discuss, " I say blatantly, not caring about the glare she is giving me.

"She has a friend, " my brother winked.

I cringed at the thought. "Not interested." I turn to the girl and gesture for her to get out. She makes a high pitched grunt and stomps her foot as she leaves, reminding me of a child about to have a tantrum.

I can kind of see now, what my father was speaking of.

Darius walks over to the mini bar and pours two glasses of scotch, handing me one, before he takes a seat on the couch.

"What business do we need to speak of? Is father really not letting you celebrate your graduation and freedom?" he asks.

"It isn't that kind of business, but it is something father asked me to speak to you about specifically, he dropped by the other day."

This made Darius sit up. "What did he say?"

"He said he was concerned about your partying and sleeping around, he doesn't think you're mature enough to take over when he is ready, " I say, not bothering to beat around the bush. My brother may be immature in some areas, but he still grown up enough to handle criticism, especially from our father.

"That's ridiculous, I have proved I am more than mature and ready to take over, in countless other ways. So, what if I have a love for alcohol and women? What does marriage or being lifeless all the time, have to do with running the family?" he rants on.

I let him blow off a bit of steam before I say anything.

"He thinks it would look better, and prove you are mature, if you decide to settle down with someone he approves, which basically means someone who isn't a slut, or a random woman off the street, " I specify and give him a pointed look.

He rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively towards me.

"That isn't going to do anything but make me unhappy. I don't want to get married, I haven't found anyone I want to spend the rest of my life with, I'm content with the way I'm living. Why isn't it enough for him?" he cries.

"I don't know, brother. I know as little as you do, and even I protested the thought, knowing it would make you unhappy. But it's what he wants, and the only option he mentioned."

My brother looks at me, a struggle clearly evident in his eyes.

"Well, I don't really see any other option, seeing as he didn't give me another one, " he grumbles. "What about a party?" he asks.

"A party? Are we not talking about how to prove to father you aren't an immature alcoholic? I don't think a party is the right way to do this."

He shakes his head. "Hear me out. We have a party, for me to find the perfect girlfriend, and we invite all the best eligible bachelorettes from all over the state, to show father that I'm looking for a serious, sophisticated woman who can help me run the family, and help me mature or whatever, " he says and rolls his eyes, still not wrapping his head around this request.

"Lucky for you, father won't be there. He left back to Boston for business, I don't know when he will be back. So, if you have a plan for this, I'd do it now, " I say. Darius winks and lifts his glass up to me in cheers, before downing it.

I have a feeling he already has a plan up his sleeve.

***

I go back to my room after the talk with my brother, and search for my phone. I bring up Olivia's name and type out a message, asking if she is free tonight for dinner.

Sure, I'm free tonight.

I'll be there at 7:oo.

I throw my phone on the bed and rush over to the bathroom to start getting ready. I want to impress her, but not seem flashy or appear like I'm showing off. She already has some idea of how much money I have, no need to flaunt it.

I settle on a nice restaurant downtown New Jersey, closer to her place, and have asked Frank to drive us so we both can relax and enjoy ourselves. Not only is this our first date, it's also the best time to get to know her, and find out how much she knows about me.

Maybe, just maybe, there is a chance she is stronger than she looks.

I send Olivia a quick text that I'm on my way to make sure she's ready outside when we get there.

I stop along the way and grab a single rose to give to her, not wanting to seem cheesy with a whole bouquet, but wanting to arrive with something to give her. There are so many different emotions swirling through me as we pull up to her apartment building, and I spot her on the curb.

She stands out like a ray of sun, beaming beautifully in the darkened entrance, a single street light above illuminating her face and breathtaking outfit.

I try my best not to trip over my own feet as I step out, my eyes surveying her body like a piece of fine art.

"You look gorgeous, " I manage to breath out, holding out the single rose. A small smile touches her lips, lighting up her face and smoldering blue eyes.

"You clean up pretty nicely yourself, " she says, fluttering her eyes at me over the petals of the flower. My breath hitches in my throat, and I hold back a cough.

I turn to hide my fluster and open the door for her. "Shall we?"

"Thank you, kind sir, " she giggles and slides into the cool leather seats. I try my best not to stare at her ass as she does, wanting to have some respect, though it's impossible not to stare at her luscious curves as she buckles her seatbelt.

Once we're settled and moving, I slide my hand over her exposed leg, the feeling of her smooth skin bringing back a flood of memories from the first night we spent together.

It would just be the cherry on top of the sundae if the night ended the same way. Having her in my bed again, waking up to her gorgeous blue eyes and sexy bed head, my heart thumped in my chest just thinking about it.

I'm so hooked.

No matter what happens after tonight, there is no denying it.

I'm falling for this girl hard.

***

I take Olivia to a restaurant named The Mirrage, Angelo saying it's the perfect place to take a girl if you're trying to impress her, but not also seem like a typical snob, surrounded by more snobs.

He picked a good place, I think as I enter the building, my arm securely wrapped around the small back of Olivia's waist. The main foyer is decorated with small, golden hanging lamps, giving the room a warm glow, which continues into the dining area with the small table lamps placed in the center of each table, but no lights hanging from the ceiling.

The tables are draped in deep red table clothes, with intricate, silver designs sewn into the material, forming small flower patterns. There is also a stage up at the front that I didn't know was going to be here, indicating a possible live performance.

The waiter leads us to a remote table at the back, and I shoo him away before he can pull the chair out for Olivia, wanting to do it myself. She flashes me a small, teasing smile as she thanks me and takes a seat.

"This place is lovely, " she says, glancing around the room admiringly.

"I'm glad you like it, my friend Angelo suggested it to me, though I didn't know they have live performances."

Her eyes light up. "Live performances?"

I look towards the stage and nudge my head for her to turn in the direction. She swivels slightly in her chair and gasps when she spots the empty stage.

"I've never been to a fancy restaurant with a live performer, " she says and turns back with a flirtatious smile. "You've really on done yourself."

"Honestly, I didn't know about that, " I say and she lets out a small giggle, easing my tension a little. I didn't want her to think it was over the top, too flashy.

A comfortable silence falls over us as we look over our menus. I can't help but steal glances at her over the rim, watching her blue eyes scroll over the options, the space between her eyebrows scrunching together slightly as she concentrates. She wiggles her nose lightly while she thinks, causing my heart to thump harder at how adorable she looks.

I swallow the lump in my throat and turn back to my own menu, just as the waiter returns with a pitcher of water and asks if we're ready to order drinks. I ask to start with a simple bottle of champagne and appetizer.

As the waiter steps away, someone taps the microphone, drawing everyone's attention to the stage. A quiet hum falls over the crowd, watching a young blonde woman take the center of the stage, a small entourage band setting up in the dark behind her.

"Welcome to Le Mirage, I hope you're all having a wonderful evening. My name is Charlotte Rose, and I will be your performer for the evening. I am open to song requests throughout the night, if I know them, " she pauses the let the crowd chuckle lightly. "For now, sit back and enjoy your meal and beautiful evening."

Everyone claps before Charlotte starts off with a slow rhythmic melody. It adds to the dim atmosphere, warming the room along with the small table laps, giving the room an amber glow.

Looking across the table, I meet striking blue eyes, that make my heart skip a beat and blood warm in my veins.

Everything in this moment feels perfect.

Too perfect. To the point where I also can't help but feel like by the end of the night, something is going to go terribly wrong.

***

After we ordered our meal and relaxed into comfortable small talk, I was able to shake the bad feeling. Everything seems to be progressing as perfectly as before, and I haven't even made a fool of myself yet.

Olivia tells me she majored in the Arts at Harvard, and had a minor in Business and Ethics,

because she felt it was a good thing to have, but still kept her passion for art above all else.

"What kind of art are you into?" I ask.

"Oh, mainly just drawing and a bit of painting when I have the time or inspiration, I've used water-colors a few times but found it wasn't for me, same with pottery and all the other different areas. Classic pencil and pad have always done it for me, " she says and beams a little with excitement.

Usually when I went on a date, and it came to the part where we make small talk, I was never really interested in what they had to say, or they were extremely boring. But I'm hanging off every word Olivia is saying, wanting to hear anything and everything I can about her.

She really is something else.

"So, what did you take in Harvard?" she asks.

I was hoping to avoid talking about me for the evening, but I also knew it was inevitable. "I majored in Business and Ethics, as well as Law and Politics, with a minor in Human Rights, because it seemed interesting."

Olivia gapes back at me, like most do when I reveal my study experience.

"Wow, that's quite the course load, " she mutters, smiling nervously. I want to know what she is thinking. Never has it bothered me so much to not know.

The waiter comes back around to clear our plate and take our dessert orders. I don't want Olivia to see how much of a sweet tooth I have, so I tell her to order for us, cheering silently when she picks the exact cheesecake I had been eyeing.

We split the rather large piece, only being given one spoon anyway. It feels like everyone has drifted far away, even the live music swirling in the air softly, and it's just Olivia and I.

After we're done eating, I quickly pay the bill on the way out, tipping the waiter a large amount for the quick and absent service. I don't like when the waiter or waitress constantly comes back to check on your table or refill your glass, especially when you're trying to have a romantic evening.

I lead her outside, unsure of what to do next. The night air is crisp, but warm, perfect for an evening stroll.

Without saying anything to one another, we walk down the barren street, nothing but the glow of the stars painting the sky.

I feel her hand brush against mine, and without hesitating, I reach down and entwine our fingers together. I see her smile at me from the corner of my eye, her cheeks turning a light pink.

"So, what's next on the agenda for tonight?" Ava asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I didn't really have anything else planned, I wasn't exactly sure how dinner was going to go. If it went well, I was going to play it by hour, " I say nervously.

We share a comfortable laugh, and continue walking.

After a little while, I get a prickling feeling on the back of my neck, making my hairs stand high. I turn my head slightly, peeking over my shoulder, and see a dark figure a few street lights down.

Someone is following us.

It has to be someone personal, no rapist or mugger would follow a girl, who is accompanied by another man. The risk of things going wrong are too high when trying to attack two or more people.

Especially if they have no idea who I am.

Since they are alone, it tells me there is a large possibility they do.

I run over the different scenario's in my head, keeping greatly in mind that Olivia is with me, and if anything happens, she will be in the cross-fire.

I can feel the person grow nearer.

Fuck! Why does this have to happen now?

Olivia squeezes my hand and I look down into her concerned eyes. She can tell something is wrong. I don't want to worry her, though, and scare her away.

I spot a sports bar across the street, still open and advertising that they're still serving drinks. I tug Olivia's hand a little and rush across the street, watching the figure from the corner of my eye. They stop and remain across the street, one street over, when they see us turn inside.

"What are we doing here?" Olivia asks, taking in the musky bar scene, the smell of beer and stale chips hitting our nostrils instantly.

"I thought we could sit down for a few minutes, grab something to drink and think of somewhere to go, " I say, trying to think of an excuse on the spot. I take us over to the farthest end of the bar, away from the front door and windows. I don't want any chance of being seen from outside.

I signal over the bartender to take our order, stealing nervous glances around the room while Olivia is distracted ordering.

"Is everything alright?" she asks, putting a cautious hand on my leg. I snap my head in her direction, shocking her a little. She goes to pull her hand away, but I quickly snatch it back and grasp it gently.

"Yes, everything is fine, I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind at the moment, " I say and bring her hand to my lips, kissing the back of it, savouring the feel of her skin and intoxicating smell.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Though she tries to sound confident, I can hear the hesitation and fear behind her voice.

She has the perfect idea of what is bothering me, and she isn't sure if she wants me to confirm her thoughts or not.

I'm not sure I want to confirm her thoughts, either. I don't want to scare her away, but if I want to pursue anything with her after tonight, I'm going to have to confide in her eventually.

She will be a part of my world.

Something darts through the crowd and catches the corner of my eye. I turn my head toward the movement, and see a familiar face walking towards me.

"Well, well. If it isn't the infamous Greyson Mathers."

"Hello, Marcus, " I growl, the name poison on my tongue. Marcus Belford. The son of the famed lawyer, Andrew Belford, which of course is only a cover for his real job.

Boss of the Armenian Mafia. The only person to continuously challenge my father for territory in America, so he can expand is drug and money trafficking. It will be easier to get around if he owns property by the border, especially territory right next to the Canadian border.

The gives him a whole other country to pump his drugs into.

I can't say my father is any better. But I am.

"Never thought I would see you in a place like this, without your brother and his entourage none the less, " he says and flashes me a sly smile, before his eyes slide over to Olivia.

I feel the blood boil in my veins, before he even says anything to her.

"And who is this beauty?" he asks and holds his hand out to her. I react without thinking, and slap it away, stepping in between them. I hear Olivia gasp behind me, completely taken back, but Marcus just continues to grin at me.

"Oh, my. Touchy, are we? I can tell she is a special one to you."

Shit! Huge mistake.

By quickly defending Olivia, just from even touching him, I exposed a weakness. He knows she means more to me than a bar floozy or simple date.

"I hear your father is welcoming you into the family finally, I've been waiting to hear of your initiation. Have you begun preparing?" Marcus asks and flashes another sly grin at me.

He knows exactly what he is doing. He is testing the situation. He knows Olivia is someone special, but he doesn't know how much she knows.

I want to punch that grin off his face so bad, my hands are shaking.

I can feel Olivia's eyes staring at the back of my head, boring into me like lasers. I want to turn and face her, tell her he's lying. But I can't.

Because he isn't lying. In a few weeks' time, I will begin my initiation into the mafia, and one day become my brother's second in command.

"I take your silence as you haven't started preparing."

"Shut the hell up, Marcus. This isn't the place to discuss such things, " I mutter, gritting my teeth to hold back my anger. It has always been hard when I see his smug face, and know I can't hit it.

"Why not? The pretty lady doesn't mind, right? Since she is so special to you, I can imagine you've already told her all about this, " he says, the grin still plastered on his face.

With every word he says, the thread holding my anger together snaps a part piece by piece.

"I think you need to leave, " I say, my voice almost a growl.

"But I just got here, and we haven't seen each other in so long, since you went away for school. I always wondered why you never came back for the holidays. Boston isn't that far away, and we all know you have the money for transportation." Marcus turns and signals over the bartender to order a drink.

"Don't tell me you're ashamed of where you're from?" He is pushing all the right buttons. The only thing keeping me from pummeling his face into ash, is Olivia sitting right behind me.

So close, I can feel her trembling.

Just then, Marcus' eyes widen, seeing my eyes shift behind me to Olivia. A bright smile stretches across my face.

"Oh, Greyson. Have you not told her who you are? Did you really think you could keep it a secret? My friend, you will learn something quick when you finally enter into the family, and that no matter what position you are given, you will be stripped of your name. It will no longer carry the angelic reputation you tried to establish in college. I guess she isn't as special as I presumed."

Those last words are enough to tip me over the edge. I lift my hand and collide my fist with his face, feeling a sickening crack under my knuckles. Everything after that is a blur. I feel a fist collide with my cheek, but I'm too blinded with rage to feel or see anything. I'm not even sure if it's Marcus who hit me.

When I broke out, everything around us seemed to as well. Another fist hits me in the face, snapping me back to reality, and I stare straight into the bloody face of Marcus, his grey eyes enraged and dirty blonde hair no longer greased back, now sticking out all over the place.

I can feel my own hair is a mess, and my eyes glazed over with anger. I make a move to leap at him again, but he moves quickly, and before I know it; I'm face to face with the end of a gun barrel. Everyone in the room stops in their tracks, their eyes turning to Marcus and I.

The cool, cocky demeanor Marcus had before is now gone, replaced with anger and intimidation. I try and keep my cool in the face of his gun, but suddenly feel a hand on my arm and almost jump out of my skin.

I turn, and my heart drops to the pit of my stomach when I look into the terrified eyes of Olivia. The hand that grips my arm is trembling, as if the temperature has dropped to below freezing.

What the hell have I done?

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