Tangled Fate

DEFINITION OF PERFECTION

CLARA'S POV

“What’s with the delay?” 

I shuddered in discomfort as the words reached my ears, coming from a cold, deep, husky voice. Turning slowly, I locked eyes with a man leaving the Rolls Royce. Seeing him made my breath catch in my throat, and my eyes widened in shock and surprise.

He was tall, over six feet, and had a powerful, commanding aura around him that emitted mystery and allure. His dark hair cascaded around his sharp, chiseled jawline, framing his piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold a thousand unknown secrets. At that moment, I couldn’t help but unconsciously compare him to my longtime boyfriend, James Henderson, who was also undeniably attractive.

But this man was on an entirely different level of his own.

However, there was something achingly familiar about him. His shocking resemblance to someone in my past tugged unexpectedly at my heartstrings. I couldn’t quite place it, but it left me with a deep longing and an inexplicable void. 

I had seen this man somewhere before, but where?

The only thing I could do was stare at him, unable to tear my curious gaze away from his face. However, I quickly realized that he, too, was similarly fixated on me. His intense, icy eyes bore into mine, rendering me utterly defenseless. It was as if his gaze had the ability to unravel me completely, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable to his indomitable will.

His voice then snapped out of my thoughts. 

“I said, why was there a delay?” he repeated, his voice laced with a hint of scorn.

He wasn’t looking at me directly and schooled his features into a disdainful sneer. I then heard him mutter something under his breath. The cab driver, the target of his irritation, attempted to explain the situation to him. He listened intently, nodding or shaking his head at the appropriate times.

After a few minutes, the mysterious stranger spoke again.

“Well, is that all?”  

His dismissive question abruptly caught me off-guard, leaving my mouth gaping open, utterly stunned. He had no concern for the damage his driver had caused my cabbie. It was like it was nothing to him. His manner exuded an arrogance characteristic of wealthy, attractive men like him, a trait I thoroughly despised yet begrudgingly admired.

But for the most part, I wouldn't say I liked it, especially now. I clenched my fist, deep in thought, as I gave this man a death stare.

Arrogant individuals always managed to get under my skin, igniting a fiery anger within me. And as of right now, my rage was reaching its boiling point. I couldn't contain myself any longer.

I stomped up to him, my heels clicking harshly against the pavement, intent on giving him a piece of my mind.

“Excuse me, sir, but I think you need to pay for the damage your driver inflicted on this cabbie’s vehicle and give him a sincere apology!” I exclaimed, my voice trembling with frustration as I crossed my arms and raised my chin, staring the arrogant man in the eyes.

My cabbie, the driver of the Rolls Royce, and the mysterious man, all froze before the mystery man with his tall, imposing stature and icy eyes, stared back at me in mockery.

Undeterred, I stared back. If looks could kill, the intensity of our death glares would’ve resulted in both of us dying a slow and excruciatingly painful death. We were silent as the awkward, uncomfortable tension hung heavy in the air but charged with an unspoken challenge.

The man crossed his arms and stared me down. 

“Oh, you think I should be paying for the damage?” he retorted, raising a mocking eyebrow at me as his tone dripped with condescension. He then turned to the cabbie.