With an elegant glide, the car slid to a stop before the grand façade of Ray's building in Hyatt Regency. Raymond stepped down and went into his mansion, a briefcase in his hand. Choice followed closely behind him into the foyer while Gerard and the chauffeur started to take her suitcase out of the trunk.
"Ray," she called after him.
He turned to face her in silence, the stoic look branding his face like he was born with it.
"What's up with the coldness toward your best friend?" She asked softly.
Her words, a gentle probe into the depths of his thoughts, a brave attempt to breach the frost that surrounded him.
But the question came out of her mouth in the wrong manner; carrying the weight of curiosity and concern.
She intentionally wanted to scold him, saying no one treated their best friend in the manner he did earlier. She would know because she has one and would never treat her carelessly.
Ray glared at her. Who did she think she was? Because he let her into his space, she felt she could poke her nose in his business?
"And what's up with you trying to meddle in my business, you'd better know your place." He warned and started up the staircase.
As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. His business was none of hers. She shouldn't try to make them and steer clear.
She stood there for a few seconds watching him disappear through the staircase until Gerard came in pulling a suitcase, same as the chauffeur. They dropped them off and went out. Gerard entered again with the last suitcase.
"Thanks, Gerard," she said to him with the hint of a smile gracing her lips.
With his demeanour professional and his manners impeccable, he returned her kindness with a nod.
"Just doing my duties, ma'am. Goodnight." He replied, his words a farewell.
His exit was marked by the rumbling of the engine as he climbed into the car and drove away into the night, leaving Choice alone in the foyer of Ray's sprawling estate.
With everyone else gone and silence embroiding the atmosphere of the ground floor, she took the leverage to look around, as her eyes wandered through the foyer, tracing the elegant contours of the space.
Her gaze roamed, free and unhindered, soaking in the splendour that surrounded her.
The floor, a polished mirror of stone, reflected the gentle light that bathed the room, while the walls held the secrets of art, their canvasses a silent conversation of colour and form.
Ray's home was an embodiment of opulence, a monument to wealth.
Hyatt Regency.
The glimmering towers of status and privilege, a realm of exclusive luxury where only the wealthy elite could afford to stake their claim. Even most celebrities could barely afford a glimpse of the riches within.
She found the elevator and used it to transport herself and two suitcases from the ground floor to the top floor.
As she brought with her into the master's bedroom the two suitcases, she noticed Ray was seated beside the floor-to-roof window going through documents, he had yet to get changed. When she entered with the last one, she noticed he was parking the documents into his briefcase.
"Do you plan on opening a store in my room?" He asked.
Bringing her back to the present.
She didn't hear him clearly, she was busy admiring the large and well-decorated bedroom. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."
He faced her. "Who on earth keeps three suitcases?" He shot at her the icy torrent of words.
The air carried the weight of unspoken tension.
She hated the way he talked to her.
She hated that he was sweet on camera but an arse in real life.
She hated that she believed the lie the man was to the public eye.
Her voice was a match for his, cold and determined, as she retaliated. "Well, you told me to get my stuff. I got my stuff. It's my stuff, Ray, I happen to have more than one suitcase."
Her words, like blades of ice, cut through the air between them, the atmosphere suddenly charged with a weighty silence.
"So, you plan on stuffing my bedroom with your cheap clothes and suitcases."
"Why do you always pick on me?" Choice shot back, her voice a bold, defensive retort. "This room is big enough to occupy even a hundred suitcases without causing any inconvenience so, get used to me being a part of your life, President Ray."
"I don't want to ever see my room messed up, if I ever see your stuff lying around, I wouldn't think twice to punish you," he warned and walked past her to get changed.
She rolled her eyes.
Punish her? What was she, five?
She moistened her lips and started to move her suitcases one by one to a suitable corner.
Ray undressed and entered the bathroom to shower. When he stepped out, she was standing by the glass window, her attention captured by the lights of the cityscape that glittered in the night like diamonds.
She turned to face him only to find out he wasn't on his shirt, he was wearing a different, more comfortable white pants and a towel was lying around his neck.
The sight of him, an Adonis in the dim light of the room, pierced through her defences like a bolt of lightning. Her gaze, unable to resist, devoured the lines of his body, her breath caught in her throat. His chest, chiselled and defined, rose and fell with each inhalation, the shadows accentuating his every contour.
The droplets that glistened on his skin, like diamonds in the moonlight, traced a path down his features, each one a subtle temptation.
He picked up something from the bed and she took a step back when he approached her.
"Choice," he tested her name for the first time, his voice low and raspy as it coaxed her name from his lips, "it's time."
Her heart gave a bang. It shouldn't react that way to a man like Ray.
But the way he had called her; the difference from the tone which he warned her with before stepping into the bathroom.
No matter how alluring his voice was, there was something very dangerous about him, but intriguing at the same time. Maybe it was the coldness in his eyes that he didn't bother to hide.
"Time for what?" She asked.
"What couples do after marriage." There was a smile on his face but it wasn't friendly in the slightest.
Choice didn't know what to say to him.
Caught in a whirlwind of emotions, frozen in place, her thoughts raced as her heartbeat stuttered like a flock of startled birds. The wall became a solid anchor in the swirling maelstrom of the moment as her back hit it, it kept her upright, but offered no solace as the man moved in on her, his presence dominating the space between them.
He placed the palm of his hand on the wall right next to her head. His body leaned forward to see Choice's eyes widen, "let's begin," he said.
"There's no way I'm going to bed with you." She protested.
"Didn't you dream that this would happen? When you decided to come notify me that you're my wife. You wrapped in the arms of King Ray, in his bed?"
How arrogant.
"No, and the last thing I'll ever do is allow a jerk like you to touch me." She shot back at him.
He dropped his hand and tossed the black cloth he was holding on her, then a perfume followed. She held them both. "You reek of cheap perfume and it's altering the expensive fragrance in my room, get into the bathroom, shower, change into that dress, and make sure to spray a good amount of the perfume on you so, you'll look good and worthy to be touched by me."
She hated him.
She moved away from him and made for the bathroom. She was only playing along with the arrogant big boss, she would never let him have his way. A demon in disguise. A man who was cold and evil with no heart in his chest. Never!
She was out after a long amount of minutes had passed. Her falĺen braids were now tied in a bun, and she wore no footwear. The sleeveless short, black dress exposed her every beauty for him to behold.
He skimmed at her for seconds and went to her. "Ready?" She heard him ask, the creepy smile that had made way continuing to exist on his lips.
Raymond Kingsley was a handsome man and Choice had agreed on it the first time she had seen him in person.
The closer he got, the more she tried to move, until she pressed herself against the wall, her body an ill-suited shield against his unwavering advance. "Where do you think you're going? Answer me." His words, a ghostly whisper, wrapped around her like a predatory mist, as he taunted her, his gaze burrowing into the depths of her soul.
She felt the heady pull of his nearness, her racing heart a traitorous betrayer of her inner turmoil. She kept her face thrown away. She couldn't stare at him.
"Look at me," he commanded in a deep voice.
She looked at him but couldn't stare into his eyes.
"What happened? You can't even look me in the eye? But you did earlier and even went as far as raising your hand at me."
"What now? I'm staring into them," she said, her eyes staring into his.
Ray looked straight into the eyes of the person standing in front of him, they were beautiful.
Beautiful and daring.
He grabbed hold of her jaw, examining her with an eagle-like gaze, he could sense the nervousness coming from her.
"Should we do this?" Ray restrained himself.
His deep, sexy voice enough to strike a chord in anyone's heart putting them in a daze enough for them to give him approval to do whatever he wanted with them.
He had never restrained himself before.
He was surprised at his own words.
She should have ran away from a man like Ray, she shouldn't have let him force her into a place where he had all control.
Would you date a fan? Ivy's question on the interview the other day played with her mind.
Ray had simply replied with a 'maybe'.
Maybe?
Liar.
With a man like that, a fan didn't stand a chance.
Aissh. Why was she thinking about dating the young man, instead of figuring out a way to escape him.
He didn't know it but she was ice for him when he taunted her but she became water when he asked for her consent even though it wasn't directly.
She was a whole ocean for that second gentleman he was.
Heard no response from her, Ray grabbed her by the waist, pulled her closer, he was about to press his lips against hers but she resisted; shutting her eyes and folding her lips.
He pulled away from her without her notice, not until he took his shirt and left the room slamming the door so hard. She opened her eyes and heaved a sigh of relief.