Chapter 4
“Be natural, Ophelia. Don’t give them any openings, any weaknesses to exploit,” Sir Dimitri’s baritone voice rumbled in my ear as we walked down the red carpet, the flashing lights of the cameras blinding us.
“But this is my first time, Si--”
“Don’t call me Sir,” he interrupted, his voice a low murmur in my ear. “Remember, I’m your partner tonight.” His grip on my waist tightened, a subtle reminder of his presence, his power. “And I don’t like it when you call me Sir. It’s been eight years, and I’ve never heard you call me by my name. Am I too old for you, Ophelia?”
He stopped abruptly, his words hanging in the air, a challenge that made my heart race. I felt his warmth against my back, the heat of his body radiating against mine.
I fought to keep my composure, to mask the tremor in my voice.
It felt wrong, this attraction to the man who had been my parents' rival, the man who had haunted their lives and mine. Yet, for eight long years, I had found myself drawn to him, a sense of admiration and a flicker of something more growing within me.
"Seven years old gap, you're definitely too old for me, Si--" I began, my voice a nervous whisper. But before I could finish, his finger pressed against my lips, silencing me.
His touch was warm, a jolt of electricity that shot through me, making my heart skip a beat.
He held my gaze, his eyes a deep, fathomless pool that seemed to see right through me, to understand the unspoken thoughts that danced behind my eyes.
"Why do I feel that you're lying, Ophelia?"
How could I have forgotten?
He was a man who could see through people, who could read their emotions, their desires, their fears. And in this moment, I felt exposed, vulnerable, like a deer caught in the headlights.
"I'm no--"
"Dimitri?"
Sir Dimitri's head whipped around, his gaze darting away from me.
My breath caught in my throat.
I felt a surge of relief, a sense of normalcy returning to my body.
I had been caught in his gaze, his power, and for a moment, I had forgotten how to breathe. But now, with his attention diverted, I could finally catch my breath.
"Jetro?" Sir Dimitri's voice called out to the man who had interrupted us.
I scrambled to compose myself, oblivious to the flashing lights and the curious gazes of the crowd.
I smoothed down my dress, straightened my posture, and forced a smile to my lips. The heat of my cheeks still burned, a reminder of the intense emotions that had been stirred by sir Dimitri's words, his touch.
"It's been a while, cousin!" The words, laced with a hint of amusement, sliced through the air, pulling my attention towards them.
Dimitri stood with his back partially turned towards me, his focus on the man who had just addressed him. The man, his eyes locked on me, seemed to take in every detail of my face, his gaze lingering a little too long.
"Is she your girlfriend?" The question, casual yet laced with a hint of something else, hung in the air. "God, she's beautiful!" He grinned, a wide, dazzling smile that seemed to light up his entire face.
The man started to move towards me, his eyes still fixed on mine, but Dimitri pulled me closer, his hand tightening on my waist.
"She's not my girlfriend, but she's someone important to me. Stay your nose out of her business, Jetro. We're cousins, but I don't trust you." Dimitri's voice, a low growl that held a hint of steel, cut through the air, silencing the man's playful banter.
The grin that had been plastered across Jetro's face vanished, replaced by a flicker of something darker, a hint of annoyance that sparked in his eyes.
"Looks like my cousin, the one and only Dimitri Cox, has learned to mark his territory," Jetro chuckled, "If she's that important to you, then I might really stay away from her. I wouldn't want to lose my life before my time. See you later, cousin." He winked at me, a playful gesture that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Don't mind him. He's a womanizer, but he knows his place, especially when it comes to me," Dimitri said, his gaze meeting mine. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, a hint of pride, as if he was acknowledging the power he held over the other man.
"I wouldn't give him the time of day anyway. And I have no intention of entertaining other men," I added, my voice a low whisper. I felt a flicker of defiance, a sense of determination to prove that I was not a prize to be won, a trophy to be claimed.
Even if I like this man in front of me, no doubt, I was still my own person, with my own thoughts, my own desires, and I wouldn't be manipulated or controlled.
Dimitri's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.
His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, a touch of something deeper.
I couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind, what he was thinking, what he was planning.
"Let's go, the banquet will start soon," Dimitri said, his hand resting lightly on my back, guiding me forward.
We were close, uncomfortably close, our bodies brushing against each other.
For eight years, I had been a hidden weapon, a secret weapon in the war that raged between Dimitri and his enemies.
But tonight, I was no longer a secret.
For eight years, I had lived with the constant threat of death hanging over my head.
The whispers of danger, the chilling phone calls, the shadows that seemed to follow me everywhere I went.
I had been targeted, hunted, my life a constant game of cat and mouse with those who sought to silence me.
But I had always survived, always escaped, always found myself safe, thanks to Dimitri's men. They were his shield, his protectors, the ones who kept me safe from harm.
Dimitri, was always busy, always preoccupied with the war of business. He had never saved me with his own hands, but I knew he was watching, his gaze always on me, even when he wasn't physically present.
I stole a glance at Dimitri.
The flashes of the cameras, reflecting off his features, sent a jolt through me, my heart pounding against my ribs.
I knew that there's a seven-year age gap between us, but I couldn't help but be captivated by his face, his sharp features, his flawless skin.
There wasn't a single wrinkle, not a trace of stress, not a hint of the battles he fought.
He was a man who seemed untouched by the ravages of time, a man who seemed to exist in a realm of his own.
His gaze, when it met mine, sent a shiver down my spine.
I had encountered his gaze countless times, those piercing eyes that seemed to drain the very energy from my soul.
Yet, my heart still fluttered, still skipped a beat, still succumbed to the pull of his presence.
His gaze was a force of nature, a whirlwind of emotions that left me breathless, disoriented, and utterly captivated.
Was I truly falling for the man who had become the nemesis of my deceased parents?