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Mercy

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Chapter 27: Mercy (Stella's POV)

Every so often, I would glance up and see Rhys patiently waiting in his seat as we sat across each other in my kitchen while I read over the contract one final time, making sure he had all the details right. I quit spinning the pen between my fingers and met his gaze. "Are you just going to stare at me until I sign it?" I asked hesitantly. 

"I'm thinking," he replied vaguely before sliding his arms off of where they rested on the counter and unbuttoning his cuffs before rolling the sleeves up his arm and looking away from me. 

"About what?" I questioned, glancing at his discarded suit on the table beside him. 

"About why you don't trust me." I stared at him until he met my gaze once again. "There are no loopholes in that contract, Ms. Almonte. Whether you read it three times or three hundred, that won't change." He rested his arms on the table once again, lifting a brow at me sharply. 

"Believe it or not, Mr. Romanov, it's not a loophole that I'm searching for. I'm contemplating." 

"Contemplating what exactly?" 

I blinked, staring at the table, trying to come up with the right combination of words to express what I was doubting without leaving him feeling as if I was doubting him. 

It wasn't Rhys that I didn't trust, just... his intentions and even my own and... whether something good could ever come out of us working together or if we'd simply end up being each other's downfall. 

"If by doing this... would we be getting in each other's way or really helping each other out? What if we're the ones who come out miserable from this deal?" 

"I'm willing to accept misery if it means I can see this through to the end." 

My brows shot up not in surprise but in question. "Is that how desperately you want to tear down my father? Isn't that your priority?" 

"Priorities change, Ms. Almonte." 

I blinked in confusion. "What is that supposed to mean?" 

He watched me for a minute before shaking his head quickly. "Nothing." 

Could it be that... he really is just trying to help me? Even if he doesn't want to admit it? 

"Okay," I sighed, clicking the pen and flipping to the first page of the contract, beginning to scribble down my initials on the bottom right corner of each page until I reached the last one and signed my name on the blank dotted line. Sliding the file and pen over to him, I watched as he did the same without any hesitation. 

When he shut the file with a sigh and slid the pen onto it, I stood up as he reached for his coat. 

"Do you want dinner?" I offered. 

A short, humorless chuckle escaped him. "Aren't you simply asking if I want to cook dinner again? I'm afraid I must deny your offer." 

I shrugged while nodding once in understanding. 

"How will you get your car back?" he questioned. 

"I have my keys and we have security at the building overnight as well. I'll just have it fixed tomorrow and go to work in a cab." Moving towards the cabinet, I reached for a glass, moving to fill it up with water from the fridge but when a loud clap of thunder echoed through the place and sent the lights flickering, I jumped unknowingly from the startling noise and the glass slipped right through my fingers, landing on the ground with a loud crash as it shattered everywhere. 

I took in a sharp breath and instinctively moved back, bracing myself with a hand on the counter behind me as my eyes dropped to the ground, taking in the tiny shards. I dropped my head in frustration, closing my eyes, mumbling softly, "Damn it." 

Without the courage to look at Rhys after embarrassing myself like that, even when I felt his gaze on me, I simply spun around and crouched down, opening the cabinet and grabbing the dustpan and brush before turning back to the glass, still hiding behind the counter as I began cleaning up the mess. 

My movements slowed and then stilled as Rhys stood up and came in front of me, standing with his hands comfortably pocketed. I sheepishly looked at him, my bottom lip between my teeth. 

He seemed to contemplate it for a moment before crouching down, extending a hand. "I'll do it," he volunteered. 

"No, it's okay. You should go, I bet the traffic will be bad. If you want to make it home before midnight then..." I trailed off faintly as he took both items from my hands and held my gaze. 

"I can handle the traffic," he reasoned. 

"But it'll be late—" 

"It doesn't matter." 

"Don't you have work to—" 

"I said it doesn't matter, Stella." 

I gave up, scooting back and hugging my knees as I watched him swiftly sweep up the shards, both of us standing up once he was done. He took a daunting step forward and I instinctively backed myself against the counter. 

"What?" I mumbled.

 Amusement twinkled in his eyes as he gestured for me to get out of the way with a nod. "Move, Stella," he mused. 

I slid over to the side, heat crawling up my neck while he disposed of the glass into the trash can. 

Finally, he turned to me while dusting his hands. "I'm going to head out." 

I nodded, shielding the death grip I had on the countertop behind me, keeping my hands hidden behind my back. 

As he grabbed his suit off the island, he stopped abruptly. "Oh, right. There's a party this Saturday, the day after tomorrow. It's Rowan and Evie's wedding anniversary, you're invited." 

I frowned in confusion, tilting my head to one side subconsciously. "But... I didn't get an invite." 

"You just did," he responded. 

"Doesn't that mean I'm your plus one?" 

"No. We were invited. Together." 

"But your friends don't..." Realization washed over me. "You told them," I said, "without even telling me? Really?" 

"You didn't exactly tell me you were going behind my back to seek out Logan, did you?" 

"I wasn't going behind your back," I argued, "he's Zarah's husband and a lawyer. I don't need your permission to talk to him just because he's your friend too." 

"I never said you did." 

"You're acting like it," I replied pointedly, folding my arms across my chest stubbornly. 

He dropped his suit onto the counter once again and approached me again. "Let me ask you a simple question." 

"Hmm, please do," I scoffed. 

"When you're in trouble, who do you call as your attorney? It's happened enough times for you to remember. When you're drunk and end up at a police station, who is it that you list as your attorney? Is it Logan?" 

I held his gaze. 

"Or is it me?" He stepped forward, bracing his hands on the countertop behind me, caging me in. 

My breath hitched as I lifted my chin to meet his gaze. 

He tilted his head sideways, pressing me for an answer, "Hmm?" 

I simply stared at him for a long time, my eyes dancing across his face repeatedly, scanning for a distinct emotion or a certain kind of reaction but he wasn't giving anything away. "It's you," I mumbled. 

He nodded lightly. "Exactly." 

"Why don't you just admit it?" I asked, blurting my question out before he could move away. 

"Admit what?" 

"That it bothers you." 

He watched me carefully, holding my gaze. 

"It bothers you that I went to Logan, so much more than you let on. You hate it. Because it was Logan?" 

"No," he shook his head calmly, "because it was you." 

I paused in doubt. "Don't you think you're getting immersed in your role far too soon?" 

"I don't know, practice makes perfect, doesn't it?" 

"And this is how you plan to practice? By tormenting me about this for eternity?" 

"It's only fair since it'll be tormenting me too." 

"Why?" I scoffed lightly. "Am I that special to you?" 

"Hmm," he nodded confidently. 

"Why?" 

"I can't explain it." 

"Are you this possessive over all your clients?" 

"No." 

"Just me?" 

"Yes." 

I paused from our quick bickering and my shoulders dropped. "Can't you just get over it?" 

"No," he shook his head quickly. 

"Now, you're just picking a fight." 

"Am I?" He took in a breath, tilting his head, "Maybe." 

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and stood upright. "Do you like fighting with me?" 

He hummed once again, staring down at me. 

"Is it amusing to rile me up?" 

"Very." 

"And to get riled up?" 

"By you? I'll take it. Anybody else? People normally wouldn't dare." 

"Why? Why is it always me? Why does it always come back to me?" I huffed in frustration. 

He paused. "Because I hate everyone, especially you." 

"But why?" I groaned loudly. "Why do you hate me?" 

His lips tweaked up into a smirk as he stared down at me. "You really don't get it, do you?" 

"No," I snapped. 

"Someday, you will." 

I rolled my eyes, looking away from him. 

"My friends will ask you at the party," he said all of a sudden, "they'll push for answers and try to force something that isn't there. Don't give in to it. Especially Logan, he'll definitely ask you." 

"Ask me what?" 

"What it feels like to have me at your mercy." 

"Why would he ask me that?" 

"Because he thinks I have other reasons for helping you." 

I was utterly confused but I didn't push for an answer. 

I'll just find out at the party. 

"But I don't even think I have you at my mercy," I mumbled under my breath, still trying to figure out what the question meant to begin with. 

"You do now," he said. 

My eyes snapped up to his. "Because I'm supposed to be your girlfriend?" 

"If that's what you think," he nodded. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, growing vexed the longer this conversation continued. "It's not like you've been at my mercy from the very beginning." 

"If that's what you think," he repeated, clearly entertained at my annoyance. He truly did like to see me all riled up. 

"You..." I growled quietly through gritted teeth, lifting my hands and forming them into fists before dropping them against his chest along with my head, taking in a few breaths, remaining like that thoughtlessly. 

I didn't think about it until I did it and everything hit me at once. The feel of his body against mine, the smell of his cologne surrounding me, the brush of his fingers against my back near the counter... My hands slipped down as I drew them back to my sides and stood upright. "You truly vex me," I told him. 

His hands slid back as he moved toward the window in my kitchen and snuck his fingers through the blinds, peeking outside. "I'm flattered," he mumbled absentmindedly while taking a look. "It stopped raining," he said to me before walking to the counter and grabbing his things. "I'll see you tomorrow," he added, "we should get our story straight before the party. Goodnight, Ms. Almonte." With a smirk and a salute of two fingers, he showed himself out. 

As soon as he left, I rushed to the window, pulling the blinds up and staring out. 

It really isn't raining anymore... Does that mean he was just lingering here? So I wasn't alone? 

Sighing, I slumped against the counter. 

We hadn't even begun this ruse and it was already messing with my head. I could only imagine what would happen to me by the end of it...

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Chapter 27

So I've been doing some thinking for the next book and DON'T WORRY this book isn't ending any time soon 

But since I plan my books in advance and now make the covers earlier so I can secure the copyright for them, I need to have the title

And for this next book I'm a bit confused between three titles so go ahead and vote on which one you think is best :))

1. Viscious Sins

2. Cruel Addiction

3. Twisted Fate

next ch: exception