Craving Oblivion (New York Billionaires Book 3)

19| Home

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Home

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Chapter 19: Home (Zarah's POV)

"Wait," I ground out, stopping Logan for the third time as he began opening his door to get out of the car. 

"We have been parked outside Cartier for fifteen minutes," he said tightly. 

"And we'll wait for another fifteen if we have to," I said, glaring at him out of the corner of my eye. 

He released a frustrated breath. "I don't have all day to do this with you. We just spent thirty minutes at a James Allen store only for you to decide you didn't like any of the rings there," he said. 

"Well, that's why we're here at Cartier aren't we, Mr. Markov?" I sang sweetly, turning to face him. "There are people I know in there." 

"I think you're forgetting, sweetheart, that the whole point of this is for people to see us together," he scoffed. 

"Not every single person," I huffed. 

"I have work to do, Ms. Romano, most of it concerning you. So whoever it is that you're avoiding, get over it." 

"What work do you have to do?" My brows furrowed in confusion as I turned to him. 

"I'm searching and scoping out The Dove for a certain waitress, remember?" He lifted a brow at me. 

"You're going to The Dove?" 

"Yes," he exhaled.

I watched him for a beat and then turned in my seat, resting my elbow on the center console. "Can I come?" 

He glanced at me. "No." 

"Why not?" 

"Because taking you back to where you were chased is the first step to getting my client's daughter killed," he explained slowly as if I were a child. 

"What if I can help?" I argued. 

He sighed and knocked my elbow off the console, resting his arm on it instead. "Can you help, Draga?" he asked pointedly. 

"I want to know what you're doing to keep me safe. How can I trust you if I just sit there completely blind?" I retorted, folding my arms across my chest. 

"Speak to your father first," he replied. 

"That's nice," I snickered softly, "you tell me to ask him, he'll tell me to ask you, and I'll be the damsel in distress who can't do a damn thing on her own because men won't stop trying to control her." 

"Stop," he exhaled and then paused, staring at me. "As much as I adore your feminist lens, you can't advocate when you're dead, Ms. Romano." 

I rolled my eyes and him and stared out the window, ignoring him. 

Sighing in annoyed defeat, he said, "This is the first and last time I compromise your safety. It's new territory and if you don't understand it, you'll ruin everything before we even begin anything. You have one rule." He held up a single finger.