His Wicked Love

Chapter Twelve

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ludus dolo

From where I watched Queen, she was a clear vision of perfection. Streams of sunlight kissed her face as she stood in front of her favorite café, Vintage Velvet's entrance. Her gaze remained wary as she looked around, patiently waiting... for me.

Don't get me wrong, I was desperate to meet her. But I was also a starved, deprived man, and it's not every day I find my muse waiting for me while I can watch her from afar. Calm, cold, and elegantly indifferent, she's not someone I merely want; my entire existence needs, craves, and begs for her.

I swear I'd become a saint if God ever promised me her.

One of these days, I'll have to realize I won't tire of seeing Quintessa Rossi, even if I kept watching her until my last breath.

I took a glance at my watch, then back at her again. It was five minutes past eleven. A part of me wanted to wait another five minutes so Queen would scold me for being late.

Hell, I loved her more when she snapped at me.

But then I decided I could save the playtime for later. For now, I'll just show up before her.

With that, I made my way out of my Aston. Pulling my sleeves up, I readjusted my posture before tucking my hand down inside my pocket.

I was a little far ahead of Queen, so she didn't see me immediately as I expected her to. Moreover, her car was parked too close to her for her to notice my presence.

Her arms were crossed over her chest as her heels tapped on the ground, a hint of impatience apparent on her face.

I smirked.

I kinda thought it was well-deserved for her as well. Because she was the reason sleep vanished from my eyes last night. I couldn't blink last night after her message, despite the fact that I was on the verge of fainting from tiredness after my fight with Emi.

For the entire night, I kept thinking about her and her text, wondering why she wanted to meet me, what she'd tell me. A part of me was well aware of the reason, yet I couldn't help but hide my curiosity. Then I left my home at eight in the morning, arrived here at nine, had some sweets for breakfast, and have been waiting since ten.

She arrived at ten fifty-seven. So it's not bad that I made her wait for eight minutes, right?

I shook my thoughts aside and decided to step ahead, only to still on my tracks right after. For some godforsaken reason, an invisible string seemed to pull Queen's head in my direction, and her eyes met mine.

The action was normal. Yet it seemed to render me feeble beyond everything. Hell, I would die before I could even reach her at this rate if my heart didn't stop trying to practically rip out of my chest.

Time seemed to cease before my eyes as I stood my ground like a statue cursed by the beautiful, yet lethal myth, Medusa.

I didn't know how long I was standing until someone pushed me harshly. "Stop blocking the road, dude!" The person grumbled and took his leave. The push caused me no damage except pulling me out of my daze.

. . .

What just happened?

I looked down and chuckled, shaking my head in amusement before I made my way to Queen. The woman had a questioning frown plastered over her face as she looked me up and down when I reached her. By her expression, I could assume a part of her was questioning herself why she decided to meet me.

I badly wanted to reassure her, saying, "Don't worry, Queen. We all make silly mistakes, and our silly mistakes are what lead to great things."

Like I have discovered my obsession for you through a silly, foolish mistake.

Queen seemed like she was searching for words, unsure where to start and where to stop and all. In the meantime, I took my time admiring the asset before me.

Her dress was simpler than I'd imagined.

Of course, she wouldn't dress up nice and pretty for you.

From the particular look, she wore a blue cardi with Levi's—the Wedgie Ripped High Waist Straight Leg jeans—and a pair of all-white dad sneakers from VEJA.

The combo looked outrageously good on her, and with the pendant with the letter Q adorning her neck, it was the cherry on top.

After a pregnant pause, she decided to speak up. "Why are you doing this?"

I blinked, feigning innocence. "Doing what?" I smirked when her nails clenched to her arm upon hearing my words. Her teeth kissed her lips before she opened her mouth again. "This nonsense. Marrying Anastasia."

I grinned again. "Because I need to get married?"

"Why her?"

"Because her sister is married?"

This time it was her who blinked in shock. But then her expression morphed into anger. "You are marrying my sister because I'm married? Are you crazy?"

"I thought you knew."

A defeated sigh left her, and I was nearly tempted to tell her about my plan, as a word of reassurance that it's not her sister I'm interested in. Goddess, I didn't even see Ana properly.

"Stop this," she said, "stop this marriage. You can have any girl you want. You don't have to come after my family."

"I think we'd get along nicely, Queen. Our families have been working together for decades, after all."

"Anastasia won't. She doesn't even love you."

I chuckled. "Same."

She was puzzled. It was a shame I couldn't tell her anything. It was a bigger shame she couldn't pick up my intentions. But who knows, Queen's face was unreadable in many ways. She may or may not be deceiving me with her expression. Either way, I liked it.

"I don't know why you are doing this-" For you. To have you in my arms. "Neither do I want to-" Should've known. "But don't do this."

I won't. I will never marry Anastasia Rossi, sweetheart.

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