Devil of Pride

Chapter 10

Ella

Love is a weird thing, the concept of two people staying loyal to each other for their entire lives, the constant give and take, the affection two human beings exchange.

As much as I despise the clichés that are always connected to the whole "Love at first sight" thing, I can't help but feel like there might be something real about the assumptions.

I don't think I'll ever be able to accept, let alone give in to the fact that I am falling in love with Diego. I'm not the girl to run after men but him... he has something change in the way I look at the world. In his presence it seems less hurtful, like him being by my side alone is enough to make the world peaceful, even when it's just for a few moments.

I'm standing in my bedroom in front of my mirror, looking at the way the silky red dress clings to my body at all the right places. My hair is in soft curls, half up, half down. A golden necklace resting between my collarbones with a single white pearl in the middle.

I finally got over my fear and agreed to go out on an official date with Diego. I guess we will see how that will turn out. I can feel the butterflies in my stomach flutter around wildly, making anxiety but also excitement thrill my skin.

I've been stressing about how to go at it since a few hours now. I can't say I actually thought i'd ever hear from Diego again but he proved me wrong once again when he asked me for a date. I don't have much information on what we're gonna do all I know is that he'll pick me up at six to go get Dinner. Mysterious fucker.

Before I know it the familiarity of the blacked out limousine driving up to the front of my house has me take some last deep breaths. I watch the back door swing open when his frame lifts out of the seat and he strolls over. He takes my hand into his and presses an old-school kiss onto my palm.

"You looks gorgeous, caro," he mutters under his breath as if it wasn't meant for me to hear. I answer with a soft smile, "Thank you... you don't look bad yourself," I add. It's the truth he doesn't look bad at all. The classic black two-piece suit with a black tie and a white dress shirt underneath. My thighs involuntarily squeeze together as images of what he looks beneath all this fabric hits me. Letting out a shaky break I tell myself to focus on the here and now instead of the things that happened between us a few nights ago.

"Shall we?" He asks.

I almost forgot how soothing his warm and deep voice is to my nerves. "Right, of course." I nod my head yes and allow him to lead me down the walkway to the limo. I don't think I'll ever get used to being involved in this amount of wealth.

The air conditioning chills the skin of my arms and legs, both exposed to the cold. The ride through the brightly lit city stays quiet apart from some rather unimpressive small talk about the weather.

My stare is fixed on the view out of the window the entire time, watching the street lamps and trees pass as the landscape shifts into buildings that grow taller the further in we drive.

Eventually we pull up to a fancy looking restaurant. I didn't even notice that we stopped until Diego opens my door for me and hands me his hand to help me up. I gladly lay my hand in his before he pulls me to my feet, the pressure my high heels expose my feet to making itself known once my heels hit the concrete again. The man at the entry takes the keys to the limo from the driver who walks in with us. The inside is absolutely stunning. Big tables with red and white tablecloths, silverware and plates set up perfectly for each empty seat of the table we're lead to. Huge chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and exotic plants like palm trees and orchids in every corner of the room. This certainly is one of those places you have to wait weeks if not months to make a reservation and Diego pulled this off spontaneously within only two days.

That man probably has things than I could never imagine, money and plenty of power at that. I don't think I'm aware of who I'm dealing with yet at all. But yet again I get myself into something I might or might not end up regretting.

I don't think a man has ever pulled out a chair for me and pushed me to the table or help doors open for me. Things that seem to be obvious standards have been lacking in my past relationships so I might as well enjoy the fact that I managed to pull a gentleman that still knows how to treat a woman properly.

So after a man dressed in a suit, a towel neatly folded over his left arm which he holds in front of is waist, hands us the menu which too looks way too expensive to be real I let my eyes take in everything for a moment. The front displaying the restaurant's name in cursive golden letters carved into the red leather.

Finally I get myself to actually open it, letting my eyes skim over all the crazy dishes they serve here. Snail soup from France, german beer, fries from Belgium, all kids of steaks, salads and rare wines from all over the world. I actually consider ordering a few of the smaller things to try my way through until I meet the prices listed at the end of each line; $40 Wines, $80 steaks... this place really must be high-class. Which is probably one of the reasons I feel so out of place.

The closest to this was when I was in Spain with my parents a year before they died. I went out with them rather often but when living on the streets, restaurants isn't something you can afford at all. I guess I missed it a little bit. Even though I feel so out of place sitting here it reminds me of better times, times Cody, my parents and me were a happy family and no one had to worry about where to sleep or when you could afford the next meal. I don't even notice the smile that spreads across my lips before Diego's eyes meet mine... those chilly, deep blue eyes filled with admiration. My eyes drop to his smile which makes him so much more attractive if I'm honest.

"Don't worry about the money, love, it's all on me tonight." He reassured me as if he's been reading my mind this whole time. I can't help but appreciate him for making that clear.

He probably can afford it, can't he?

We both placed our orders and wait. After a while the same man comes back, pouring our each a glass of red wine.

"What's your secret?" I ask him, more jokingly than actually meaning anything If I'm honest. He raises a brow at me his expression showing pure confusion. "Your work, I mean. What do you do to afford all this," I laugh and ask, gesturing around.

"Oh, right"

"Me and my brother are working for our father in our family business."

"Seems quite successful..." I assume, that guy must be damn loaded. He hums in response, our conversation trailing off.

"Your twin brother, you said?"