Dakota shoves his knee, and the doors flick open of his mansion. Rough tiles replace with clear marble, which starkly reflects light from the glimmering chandelier.

"Eve, increase central temperature by three degrees." He barks a command.

Before my brain could process what he said, more lights glow from the ceiling. My head feels dizzy with the sudden rush of blood as out of nowhere, he flips me down on his pearl white couch.

It takes me couple of seconds to get my focus back and when I look up, I could clearly see the bitterness in his eyes as he glares down at me. "Pablo, tráeme toallas limpias."

I flinch back into the soft cushion of the couch as he curses me in a foreign script. Instantly, a man in his mid-fifties appears with a stack of fresh towels and keeps it gently on the glass table in front of me.

"Dile a Martina que haga un té de jengibre caliente." Dakota chants another series of enchanted dialect and the man immediately nods, rushing back to where he came from.

I gulp awkwardly before speaking. "Mr. Black I wanted to-"

"Dry your hair first." He dictates like a command and passes me a towel as white as the walls of his house. That's when I notice the pool of water under my ass caused by my wet hair strands which are staining his lavish-prolly-imported couch. Oh boy!

Dakota yanks his phone from pocket and swiftly dials some number with a frown on his face. I cautiously watch him with silent heart beats as he walks to the corner of his grand hall and speaks to someone on the call privately.

Is he calling cops on me?

My nerves jump in my skin as he says mentions some details and digits, then slowly, very slowly, turns his head towards me. My breath catches in my throat as his green eyes stare at me intensely. Something whirls in them darkly as he says, "Red."

"Hot gingér tea."

Jesus-flying-Christ! 

I get startle as out of the thin air a middle-aged woman brings me a hot boiling mug of tea. Her eyes form crow's feet as she smiles wide when I thank her. 

The warmth from the ceramic melts the numbness of cold from my fingers as I curl them around the mug. A sniff opens my nostrils, and a sip clears my throat.

"Shall I get the platés? La cena está lista." The woman asks Dakota. Green burns behind those intoxicate eyes as he looks at me and says, "Give us half an hour."

My heart slams against my ribs, and I hug the towel tightly around me. What is he planning to do with me in half an hour? What is he planning? My anxiety asks as well.

*Ahem*

"Mr. Black, I-"

"Drink." He commands in his cold-blooded voice as he acts busy while texting.

I pout and look around his palace which glows brightly under the radiance of solar lights.

Live stock updates scroll through the digital screen of his wall. Plain furniture with no fancy designs. There are no plants, no decorative items, only technology gadgets, stoney floor and lots of free space as if this man needs it the most.

Everything is in white or black. The only colourful thing in his house are paintings. Weird, bizarre artworks with deep dark meaning proudly hang on his boring white walls like trophies.

Other than the strange artworks, everything else is perfectly arranged, too perfect as if it is all for show. Just like him, all business type.

Bored by his interior design, my eyes gawk at the tall, dark brute in front of me. Dakota keeps his phone on the table and unbuttons his suit. 

Something moves inside of me and I am pretty sure it's not tea as he peels the dark layer of his suit, revealing his alpha body beneath it.

His white shirt clenches to his muscles like second skin, muscles that are ripped and tight and extensive and very, very hard. And a vague outline of his infamous tattoo appears under his soaked shirt that reminds me of his beast mode in riots.

But right now, he looks like a man who has immense money, no time and lots of bitches under his sleeves. And here I am, wetting his couch, looking like a drenched rat, and drinking ginger tea.

What am I doing? Why am I staring at him?

His thick fingers crawl up to his collars and with a jerk, he yanks open his tie. He undoes the first three buttons of his shirt and when my gaze reaches to his face, wet hair falls on his eyes, which are gazing right back at me.

My face flushes and I look away feeling so intimately awkward as if he is stripping for me. My eyes run everywhere in the house, except at the man of the house.

I crook my head to the right and my jaw drops to his glorious marble floor as I see a fully nude painting of a woman, pompously decorated on the wall of his living room.

The naked girl is lying on the bed with her chest up, legs slightly opened and tangled in red sheets. No clothes hide her intimate delicacies as she boldly stares at the viewers.

"This is a 1871 portrait of the most beautiful girl in Paris city. Serene." Curiously, my eyes crawl to the painting's owner. Dakota is standing next to me, with his hands deeply gorged in his pants pockets while his eyes gawk at the painting with a passion that Pheonix burns.

"Serene was the most famous wh0re in the beau monde of Paris. The wh0rehouse she worked at was said to be made of glass that glowed equal to diamonds, all earned by her. They say she was so beautiful that people gave half of their wealth just to spend a night with her." He talks about the girl like a possessed lover, as if he was present there, stared at her from a glass window, and prayed to the heavens to have her, at least for a night.

"And even in this painting, she boldly looks at the painter, not shying away coz she knows she looks beautiful. She knows she is the prettiest wh0re in the city and she sits there owning the title proudly like a crown with her chin up and showing the world what part of her beauty they are missing."

Something dark percolates in his eyes. Dark as his hair. Dark as his name. And then he looks at me. With the same intense, passionate gaze that he was giving the dead, pinned painting.

"Wow!" I exhale, feeling the abnormal thrust of my heart against my ribs, which quickens my breath.

Why is he staring at me? Why is he staring? My anxiety asks as well.

"May I know the intention of your sudden burst of emotions to meet me?" Suddenly, his attitude changes like a flip of a coin. "I believe it's not because you missed me, Miss Stone?" Dark humour twists his ardent features into a deep frown.

Finally, he asked!

I keep the mug on the glass table and lick my lips before saying, "I came here to discuss a very serious matt-"

"Wait." He raises his long index finger at me and bluntly cuts me off from speaking, again. "How did you even get in?" And asks with the biggest question mark on his face.

"Through the wall." I whisper lowly and hope he is deaf by an ear.

Dakota's eyes widen and this is the utmost expression I have seen on his face, other than frowning and growling. 

"The wall?" Hiking one eyebrow up, he shows his surprise as if he couldn't believe someone as tiny as me could breach his high-tech security barrier.

"Eve, get me the security footage." He barks in the air and instantly, the dead screen on the wall glows brightly and my face drains away colour.

I take a silent gasp as the screen shows videos of all the cameras present in his house, including kitchen, balcony, back garden, swimming pool, gym, driveway, front gate, even the living room where I am sitting right now.

He has his eyes everywhere.

"Show me the footage of main gate, ten minutes prior." Dakota orders to the unknown and the screen displays the iron gate in different angles. Heavy rain pours in the clip while an anonymous car awaits outside the gate and a girl walks out.

That's me.

My eyes pop in horror as I recognise my teeny drenched body climbing the humongous iron bars like mowgli. 'Fuck you, Mr. Black.' My voice pours through the screen and Dakota turns his head at me, dangerously.

I shift my eyes to the naked girl in the painting and we both stare at each other, awkwardly. It's better to look at her pink tits than stare at his I'll-chop-your-fingers-in-twenty-pieces gaze.

His attention gets back on the video and I release a strangled breath as if someone withdrew a gun from my head. My eyes follow the sizzling sound coming from the recorded footage, which displays me kissing the leaves goodbye and walking away with a happy face.

"Pablo." Dakota growls and the man comes rushing to the spot. "Cut those vines near the gate. I don't want any more intruders climbing down on my property." He orders while glaring at me with a gaze of a vulture.

I gasp as his harsh command of chopping my supporters, the one I smooched with my wet lips. 

He is a cruel man! A Tyrant King who cuts anybody's throat to keep his reign alive.

"Sir, you have a visitor." A voice comes through the intercom and my gaze slide to the screen. A girl in short black skirt, a white chiffon top, waits at the gate with a bag and umbrella in her hand.

Who is she? Who is she? My anxiety asks as well.

Dakota squints his eyes as if trying to remember the girl's face. And when he does, he takes a long stride of ardency and presses on the mic symbol. "Get the package."

I watch the live video as the security guard fetches the fancy bag from the waiting girl and sprints down the raining driveway to bring it for his boss. He didn't even let her in.

Dakota returns to the living room holding the pink colour shopping bag and with an expression I couldn't read. The shadow that darkened his mood before is now completely gone.

"Miss Stone." His voice drops low, and I look up. His eyes appear so dark that I could hardly see the greens in them and I gulp, feeling his attention on me.

"I believe you said you are here to talk about something. Desperately, I must add." He speaks in his corporate emotionless voice.

"Yes." A flutter of hope takes birth in my chest as he finally lets me speak. "I want to talk about the interview we had last week. There has been some misunderstanding." My eyes lit up and I lick my lips anxiously.

Dakota hums and nods his head while thinking deeply, as if he is trying to study his next move in the game of chess. He keeps the pink bag on the table in front of me and stares me in the eye.

"How about you change first and then we talk in my office like adults?"

My eyes gawk at the bag that appears costly and then back at the man who looks calm like a sea before the storm. I feel something off!

"Do I really have to change? I am fine talking like this." I tell him with my risen heartbeats.

"Yes." He lowers his gaze at my heaving body and whispers darkly, "I don't want you dripping on my table."

( ͡❛ ͜ʖ ͡❛)

Even I want a nude artwork of mine 😭 Someone just draw me!

I heard the ⭐️ Like button is giving free cupcakes to everyone.. go click it😜