Vice (H.S)

CHAPTER 16 - TROUBLE IN PARADISE

The drive is quiet, weighted with unspoken words. I keep my eyesight strictly set on the landscape out my window, but the scenery goes by in an unfocused blur. I find myself waiting for the silent bubble to burst; I wait for Niall to say something, to—

"Do you not like your ring?"

There it is.

I turn towards him as he slows to a stop at the red light. "What?"

"Your ring," he repeats. "Your engagement ring. Don't you like it?"

He's fishing for something, and I grind my teeth in preparation for whatever he's got in store for me. "Of course, I do. It's beautiful."

He nods, accelerating once again as the light turns green. He's quiet, contemplative beside me, and I return my gaze to the passing palm trees. The cool breeze sweeps in from the open windows. Minutes pass, empty of conversation before he cuts in again.

"Why do you never wear it?" He tilts his head, scrutiny in his eyes as he stares ahead at the road before us.

I shrug in response. "It's impractical. It's... gaudy and heavy. You can't possibly expect me to wear it all the time." I quirk a brow in his direction, crossing my arms in a small show of defiance.

"No, not all the time," he sighs. "Some of the time would be nice," he mutters under his breath.

The rest of the ride passes in silence.

We pull up to the edge of my gated property and Niall waves to the security guard before starting down the long driveway. Gravel flies, picking up dust as the tires work their way towards the house.

As we arrive at the front door, the housekeeper rushes out to greet us. But one sharp look from Niall and she frowns, scampering back into the house. He puts the car in park, tossing his sunglasses aside, hopping out and rounding the bumper to open my door for me.

I clear my throat, looking him in the eye. "Thank you for picking me up." I don't mean it, though. If he hadn't picked me up, I might have been able to spend a few uninterrupted moments alone with Harry. That's all I ever want these days.

He nods in response.

"I guess I'll see you in a few hours?" I inquire, turning towards the house. Another benefit tonight; this one is a silent auction charity for the Los Angeles orphanage.

"Let's skip tonight." His voice is firm.

"What?" I turn back towards him. "You're hosting the event, Niall. You can't exactly not show up."

"I've had a long day, Elwin. I'm not in the mood to... fluff feathers."

"So have I," I hold firmly. "But it'll only be a few hours." If I can suck it up for all of these retched events, surely, he can as well.

"You had a long day?" he points at me, mocking. "Touring sets? Trying on costumes and flirting with actors?"

My face grows red at his insult. "Please don't belittle the ways in which I spend my time. I can't exactly be the governor of California. The role's taken." I turn on my heel, walking briskly into the house. His footsteps follow closely behind me as he storms into the foyer. He stares blankly as I collapse onto the chaise.

"He called me Nigel," he huffs, running a shaky hand through his hair.

"What?"

I watch as he crosses the room to the bar cart, deftly pouring 2 fingers of scotch. He forgoes the ice, gulping the lukewarm liquor straight.

"The movie star," he chokes out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I groan tiredly, rising and walking towards the kitchen. "That was probably an accident," I call behind me. "People can be... intimidated by you."

He follows as I pour a cup of water from the tap, holding the cool glass to my forehead. He tends to bring on a migraine every time he speaks to me. Even as he stands in front of me, I won't look at him. I can feel his stare on the side of my face and the judgment of his gaze burns my skin.

"An accident? Please. I'm the goddamn governor..." he chuckles darkly. And you never shut up about it, I think. You never let anyone forget it.

He pauses his study of me, pacing around the room in heated anger as he throws back the remainder of his drink. "What's going on here, El?"

His question is completely devoid of feeling. Just numb condemnation.

"What do you mean?" I meet his stare with full force, anger and fury at the unspoken between us.

"I mean why are you defending that asshole?" He steps towards me, leveling me with a heavy frown. "Is this about your... little crush?" He waves his hand delicately in the air, indicating the frivolousness of my feelings.

My eyes dart away, evidence of my guilt. "You need to cut it out," he warns sharply. "We are engaged to be married."

"I know."

"That means something, Elwin." His voice is cold.

"I know!"

In a burst of madness, he grabs hold of my wrist. "You're embarrassing yourself."

"You are so very skilled at flattery, Niall." I bite back sarcastically, yanking my arm from his desperate grasp. I head for the back garden.

"Do not walk away from me," his voice carries into the yard as I storm off. He advances quickly, grabbing onto my shoulder, spinning me back around towards him.

I startle at the contact and his reaction is delayed, only a flicker of culpability before the frightening mask of indifference is back in place. I watch as his eyes dip down to my mouth, only a second of warning before his lips come crashing down on mine, hard and cold.

I pull away but he only tugs me closer. I use my hands to shove against his chest and he stumbles backward.

"You are my fiancée!" he slurs.

"You are drunk!" I shriek, my voice swallowed up in the autumn air.

He doesn't deny it.

"You're... drunk."

I take a step back, realization slowly dawning.

"Have you been drunk this whole time? Were you... drinking when you picked me up?" He looks away, avoiding my eyes. But again— he doesn't deny it.

The blood drains from my face.

"You could have killed me."

He opens his mouth to say something, anger laced in his brows, but I hold up a hand to stop him. "You... could have killed me."

"Ellie—"

"Don't!" I shout, pointing an accusatory finger his way. My hands shake with unbound fury. Fury and fear. I am afraid of him. "Don't you ever call me that."

He stalks towards me, his steps bigger and faster than mine as I back away. "I would never hurt you." The fiery look in his eye is haunting.

"You got behind the wheel of that car. That is hurting me."

"No," he shakes his head, drunkenly denying the truth. He reaches for me, clumsy fingers taking a fistful of my sleeve.

"Get your hands off of me!" My voice wavers as I pull away, vocal cords seizing and tears threatening to fall at any second. "I am not yours."

"No." His voice is bitter as he shakes his head, staring at the empty crystal glass in his hand before turning back towards the house, abandoning me in the garden. "No, not yet."

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