217 What Games Are We Playing?
Marcel was supposed to be furious, seething with anger as he headed to that room, but he was thrilled instead – intrigued by her challenge. Having been raised from young by his psychopathic father Daniel, Marcel had been trained to revel in danger. While others were running for their lives, he was embracing the pain along with its darkness.
Like an addict, his hands itched, and he flexed them, releasing a deep breath that had nothing to do with anxiety but rather anticipation. So the moment he came into the room, the whole world could as well vanish because she was the only thing he could see. There she was in her fucking furious glory, holding a gun to his third in command. Mi amore, she was beautiful.
Like a hawk, Arianna watched them intently for when they would strike. She had expected them to arrive at the sound of that gunshot, so she was not surprised when his underlings filled the room, guns fixed on her. And that was why she had avoided standing close to the window – she had no doubt Marcel had his snipers.
So she used Samuel’s body as a shield while waiting for Marcel to arrive and God! He was taking his sweet time. Does he think she was kidding this time?
But Arianna didn’t have to wait for long because the instant she saw the men create a path, she instinctively knew it was Marcel. He was still dressed in those clothes when he captured her earlier on but unlike before when they were running a marathon, she now had the time to appreciate him.
As much as it pissed her, Arianna had to admit that Marcel had superb genes. His hair was tousled and had that just-rolled-out-of-bed vibe and it was sexy. He was wearing a designer shirt perfected to his shape that didn’t fail to hint at the muscles beneath and her mouth watered upon thinking about what he would look like beneath.
She hadn’t gotten a chance to see him bare because the few chances they got intimate, he was always the one dominating her and God! Why was she even thinking of him that way?! This was the man who captured her and made her life miserable. She was supposed to be attacking him not appreciating him.
However, from the corner of her eyes, Arianna saw a woman lean into Marcel’s side which made her brows furrow instantly. Call it women’s instinct but even without knowing who she was, Arianna decided she didn’t like her. And it seems the feelings were mutual because the woman frowned at her.
But Arianna tore her gaze away from her and focused on Marcel’s instead; she had no business with the mystery woman. But then, her heart hammered in her chest when she met Marcel’s gaze, and the dark glint she saw in there made her second guess this plan of hers. Marcel looked at her like she was delectable prey when in reality, she was the one with the upper hand.
.....
“I leave you for a minute....” He drawled with his deep, husky voice, “And you already created this havoc? Your creativity is indeed admiring,”
Arianna couldn’t tell if he was taunting her or complimenting her. She would choose the first.
“I’m not here for word games, Marcel,” Arianna said, her voice cold and flat to prove to him she was not kidding. He tends to take her opinion for granted.
“Then what are we doing, huh? This game of ours is getting interesting, don’t you think so?” he was enjoying their bickering. How could a simple argument turn him on? She must be a f*cking siren.
However, the woman from earlier butt into the conversation,” Wait, what game are we talking about here? ”
But the response she got from Marcel was an arctic cold, murderous gaze that was enough to send even the bravest of men scurrying away from him.
The woman didn’t run away but she read the signs and shut her mouth immediately. She would think twice about interrupting Marcel the next time and Arianna couldn’t even tell why she took satisfaction in her humiliation.
Yet, she didn’t let all of those emotions show on her face and went on with her negotiation.
“No one is playing a game here, Marcel,” She told him sternly, “I’m here for business and you are going to listen to me else I would blast this bullet into his head,” She pushed the gun’s muzzle against his head to prove her point.
Before Marcel could talk, she added, “And don’t think I’m joking, I already shot him once. I’m not as innocent as you think,”
Marcel watched her, his little bunny negotiating with him. He bet if she knew how he goes about his negotiations, she would know this was the worst idea. No one negotiates with him at gunpoint and gets out alive.
If it was someone else, he would be dead already. Samuel might be injured but not incapacitated, all he needed was the signal from him – Marcel- and he made his move while countless bullets rocked her body. But like the tamed Samson, he gave his order, Arianna was not to be hurt. She was his.
Marcel would like to see how long this drama played out. It was entertaining; it was not every day he got to have fun.
“I never thought you were joking, little bunny,” He chuckled.
Little bunny? Arianna’s heart rate increased. He thought this was a joke. So without warning, Arianna fired to the ground twice and that made a statement because all of them took a step back, all except Marcel. Does that mad guy think he was made of steel?
Marcel might not have backed off but his face was steel this time; he was no longer smiling.
“What do you want?” Marcel asked with no emotion.
It honestly scared Arianna, but it was good for business. So she didn’t cower when she announced, “You are going to provide me a safe way out of here else you’d watch him die helplessly right in front of you. What kind of leader does that?”
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