Black Rose

Chapter 9: Biker Boy

Illeana's Pov

There was just no way in hell I was stuck there with that asshole, pretending we were all nice and civil to each other. As if this suffocating function wasn't bad enough, his presence made me want to even puke. He was trying way too hard—every word that came out of his mouth, meant to win me over, just fell flat and bounced off me like a bad echo.

"You know you can't ignore me forever, right?" He said, leaning in close, his breath brushing against my right ear.

I didn't even bother turning to look at him. I could feel his smirk without seeing it. God, I hoped he would get worn out of my coldness soon. Maybe if I kept at it, he'd finally take the hint and give up.

"Well, don't be so sure, Mr. Matthew," I said, keeping my tone as indifferent as possible.

He chuckled softly, and for a split second, I almost thought it was the sound of him giving up. Almost. I knew better.

"Sure, if that's what you want to believe. But trust me, the more you retaliate, the more you're just wasting your time. We're bound to get married at some point. And in case it's escaped your notice, there's a lot at stake—especially for your family."

I whipped my head towards him, disbelief washing over me. Did he seriously just try to blackmail me? He probably wasn't even done, either. That's what agitated me the most about him.

"I thought you were a lot of things, but a spoiled brat wasn't one of them. I guess I was wrong. You're nothing but an entitled, self-absorbed man who abuses his power to get whatever he wants with a snap of his fingers. Well, Matthew, if no one's told you before that the world doesn't revolve around you, then consider this your lucky day. I'll remind you of it every chance I get. I'm not marrying you—no matter what's at stake."

I watched him carefully, waiting for him to snap or at least look offended. For a moment, I thought I had struck a nerve. His gaze softened slightly, but then he smiled—one of those forced, pacifying smiles he used to keep his ego intact.

"Baby girl, props to you if you think your rudeness is a turn-off because it does the total opposite. I'm scared you might bring my masochism demons back," he said, a faint trace of amusement in his tone.

I scrunched my nose in disgust. Masochism? Really? Admitting to something like that so casually was... unsettling. I just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

Whatever was keeping Kyle so late was going to land me in jail because if he didn't show up soon, I might actually kill him. How hard was it to send a simple text to explain why he wasn't here?

Across the room, I caught Ailee's gaze. She rolled her eyes before turning her attention to some man I didn't recognize. It wasn't even subtle anymore—she was trying so hard to make Matthew jealous. The worst part? He didn't seem to care. If only he could fall for her instead and leave me alone. Life would be so much easier. Ailee wouldn't be mad at me, and they'd both stop breathing down my neck.

"Why don't you attend business functions like these? I might actually believe you hate being a Dela Cruz. Not many people have seen you at all. Isn't that strange? An heir to one of the biggest companies, daughter to a famous family—why are you like this?"

His words snapped me out of my trance. For once, he said something that made sense and didn't make me cringe.

"By now, I thought you'd know why. Is your P.I. not doing their job properly? Even to this day, I have no idea how you figured out my    dessert." I replied, looking him straight in the eye.

He met my gaze, and for a moment, I wondered how he could be so fascinated with someone he barely knew.

"I don't have a P.I. on you—at least not one that isn't me. I do my own research: overhearing your conversations with friends, reading old magazines about the Dela Cruz family. If only you had a social life, I'd stalk your social media accounts. But you have none, and it's so strange. I even asked about it, but never got an answer."