Morally Grey (Grey Morals #1)

23

Isabella

"What's all this?" I ask as Kian lets a group of men in uniformed, polo shirts make their way into the apartment a weekend after our awkward dinner at his parents house. Charlotte's eyes had continued to burn daggers into my skin all evening and the saying if looks could kill  couldn't have been more fitting for a situation. I was surprised when Chief came and sat down at the dinner table, taking the only spare space next to Charlotte. I have to give it to him, Charlotte tried speaking to him, even sidling up her chair closer to Chief but he ignored her like she wasn't there. That was probably the most entertaining part of the evening as Kian excused us from the dinner party as soon as dessert had been eaten.

Speaking of, Kian doesn't bother responding to my question, instead choosing to direct the group of men upstairs. "Fourth door on the right," he orders.

Fourth door on the right? That's...

"That's my room!"

"Well done. You know the layout of the house," is his sarcastic response.

"Why are you sending men to my room, Kian?" I question. Before the interruption, I was sitting comfortably on the sofa having a coffee. I didn't know Kian was around, otherwise I'd have taken it straight to my room.

"Because you can't seem to understand what it means to unpack." Kian waits for the last guy to go towards the stairs and begins following them up, clearly not caring for my input.

I swiftly follow, chasing him up the stairs and abandon my lovely, fresh coffee. What on earth is he playing at?

Kian directs the men, informing them to be careful, telling them to unpack the boxes and organise my room. How dare he?

"This needs to stop," I argue but Kian ignores my plea. "Kian, I'm being serious. I want everyone out of my room."

"No."

"I can do this all myself, why did you hire people?" I ask, trying to stop the men from taking my belongs out of the boxes. They move around me, seemingly only taking orders from Satan standing to my left.

"Kian!"

He still doesn't glance in my direction which is perfectly fine with me. I continue with mission to try and block the men so that they don't touch my stuff. I'm not very successful and I almost see red when the first box is opened and my undergarments are on display for everyone to see.

I stew in silence as I watch the man take my matching bra and panties sets and begin to layer them neatly in a drawer like they're not lacey and being handled by a complete stranger.

"I wouldn't have taken you for a girl who likes pink," Kian comments and that's officially the last straw.

"You're such a jerk!" I explode. The corners of his mouth inch upwards. Does he think this is funny?

I stomp over to him and poke him in the chest. "Make them leave," I demand. No response. It doesn't help that he towers over me like a fucking brick wall. I glare at him from where I stand and he takes his time looking down at me, eventually meeting my eyes and holding my gaze strongly.

I don't back down and stare straight back, folding my arms across my chest and forgetting in my angered haze who I'm going up against.

The men move around us as if we're not there and both Kian and I engage in our own silent war. But as the staring goes on, something changes in Kian's eyes. The intensity of his stare evolves, no longer irritated and I can't put my finger on it. I realise exactly how close we're standing and I can almost feel Kian's body heat radiating towards me. My mouth goes dry.