PURPLE HEART - Soliders Of Fortune [BOOK TWO]

Chapter FIVE

Maksimilian Angeloff

"Qué?!" (What!?) Sunday stares up at me in disbelief, her pouty mouth agape in horror and her sweet amber eyes swimming with panic like two startled saucers of honey.. Even in a state of shocked outrage, she is something stunning, ethereal and angelic in appearance.. "You're going to what?!"

"Marry you.." I reiterate bluntly, with all the certainty of a sure bet.. Because let's face it, the girl doesn't have much of a choice.. Sure, I'll let her think she has a say in the matter, but at the end of the day, I'm not above force and threats of violence to get what I want..

No, what I need..
And what I need is her..

"Estás loco!" (You're crazy!) She expels a puff of frustration and a stern frown crinkles her delicate brow as she pronounces me insane with her sexy Spanish tongue..

"Yut.." I hum in amusement, sipping the eighty-proof in my glass with a smirk.. "You're probably right about t-that.."

"Oh no-" Sunday sets her Tequila down on the table, gentling her tone as if to temper my reaction to her rejection, like I might fly off the handle at any given moment.. "Lo siento, I can't marry you, Señor.."

Ah, so now for the part where my skill set is tested, but if there was one thing I am good at in this life, it's this.. The negotiation..

You'd think she'd know better than to refuse a man like me and the consequences that might cause, but it seems Sunday still has a few lessons to learn..

The first of which will be that nobody tells me 'no'..

And while I won't physically hurt the girl, there are a million different ways I could make or break her.. I can give, or I can just as easily take away.. Still, I'm also wise enough to know that honey catches more butterflies than vinegar.. And that is exactly what Sunday is.. A delicate and beautiful butterfly.. So fragile, vulnerable and without any means of protecting herself.. In the kill or be killed natural world, anything that pretty, tends to die first and fast..

But I could make her the exception.. If she'd just fucking let me..

Motioning towards the sofa, I force control over my stammer with an iron determination, willing myself not to sound like a bumbling idiot.. "You haven't even heard mm-my offer yet.." Making a gentlemanly gesture for her to take a seat and make herself comfortable, I wait for her to sit..
Perching on the edge of the sectional, Sunny tugs at the hem of the oversized sweatshirt she wears to cover her thick, tempting thighs.. I turn my back to refresh my vodka neat at the bar.. "Drink?"

"Si, but-" She watches me pour three fingers into a diamond cut crystal highball with the bite of her bottom lip.. "I feel like I should probably tell you; I- um- I don't actually like vodka.."

I know I should be offended on behalf of my ancestors... After all, it's unheard of in my corner of the city for anybody to turn down Beluga.. But something about her innocent honesty charms me, and I can't help but chuckle to myself.. Pausing mid pour, I turn to glance over my shoulder at her, attempting to hide my amusement behind a stoic mask.. "Well, what do you like, Zayka?" The question carries an unintended dry resonance as it drifts through the air, but she doesn't seem to notice..