Page 39 of The Price of Power
“How about we see how our first night together goes before we start on the renegotiation process?” he said.
Even though he’d phrased it as a question, I knew he wasn’t looking for an answer. He’d made his decision, and all I could do was snap my mouth closed, nod, and try again another time.
“Good,” he continued, as if everything was settled and fine, before holding out the silver dress. “Then put this on and get ready to go out. We’ll leave in twenty minutes.”
Leave? Twenty minutes?
What the hell was happening? He’d gone from seductive to combative to dismissive all in the blink of an eye.
Or had he?
Now that I thought about it, Gabriel’s tone had stayed surprisingly consistent throughout our conversation.
My reactions to him, on the other hand, were all over the map. His touch made me feel one way, his words another. And I was completely clueless about how to deal with my own guilt and shame. Maybe after a few days, I’d get used to these wild emotional shifts, but right now, I was giving myself whiplash.
“Where are we going?” I asked as he turned around and started walking away from me.
“I already told you,” he said without stopping or turning around. He didn’t even bother to slow down. He just strode right out of the closet. “Out.”
I wanted to howl in frustration at his condescending answer. I wanted to scream or punch a wall. Maybe throw one of these priceless-looking vases against the floor just to have the satisfaction of watching it explode into a thousand pieces. But none of that would do a damn bit of good.
Besides, Gabriel’s threats of an eye for an eye were still echoing in my head. I wasn’t in any rush to see how he would balance the scoresheets if I lashed out in violence.
So instead, I turned to my old friend sarcasm, balling my fists at my sides as I called out, “Yes, your majesty. Your wish is my fucking command.”
“Good job, dolcezza.” His laugh drifted in the closet from far away—all the way from the bedroom, if I had to guess. “Now you’re finally starting to understand how the game is played.”
Chapter Thirteen
OLIVIA
Twenty minutes later (and not a second sooner), I stepped out of Gabriel’s closet, ready for a night out.
Even though I wanted to swap out the dress he’d picked for me, I went with his choice, figuring it was easier than getting into another argument. After all, if I was going to survive the next three months, I would need to start choosing my battles more carefully.
The hemline was a little shorter and the neck a lot more low-cut than what I bought for myself, but even I had to admit it looked good on me. Since I didn’t have a lot of time, I didn’t do anything extravagant with my hair or makeup—simply taming my curls with a little oil and refreshing my mascara and lipstick.
The rest of the time I spent trying to get the hang of the ridiculously high heels. But when I needed to cling to Gabriel’s arm for support while walking down the stairs, I realized it would probably take me the entire summer to master them.
Gabriel didn’t seem to mind. The smile that had spread across his face when I’d first grabbed onto him mid-wobble was still plastered there when we got down to the car.
“Don’t worry,” he said, opening the passenger-side door for me. “I’ll always be right here when you need someone to hold on to.”
I didn’t take the bait, keeping my mouth shut as I slipped into the seat.
After all, if I didn’t talk, we couldn’t argue. And if we didn’t argue, then he wouldn’t pull me close or push me up against the wall or touch me in a way that made my heart pound and my skin burn.
Unfortunately the downside of this new strategy became immediately clear when he blew past the turn he’d taken last night, driving farther south.
“We’re not going to La Sera?” I asked.
His smile turned wicked as he shifted gears. “Do you want me to take you there again?”
“No,” I answered quickly, almost afraid a yes might accidentally slip out. “It’s just…if you’re not taking me there, then where are we going?”
“There are a lot of nightclubs in Manhattan, Liv,” he said.
Well…yeah. That much I knew, but how many of them had private rooms with erotic performers and two-way mirrors? This time, though, I kept the question to myself. Gabriel was already treating me like some naive innocent instead of a grown, professional woman. The last thing I wanted to do was give him more fuel to add to that fire.