Elite Affairs - Book one

Chapter Seven

"I can't stop thinking about you"

With a dismissive glance, Léon turned and walked away, leaving Açelya seething with rage and humiliation. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, not just from the verbal insult, but also from the proximity of their bodies, which had sparked an unexpected jolt of electricity. She felt like she'd been left standing in the wake of a storm, her emotions raw and turbulent.

Açelya's eyes blazed with anger as she watched Léon disappear into the stacks, his confident stride and broad shoulders radiating an air of superiority. She clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms, as she struggled to contain the fury coursing through her veins. The silence around her seemed oppressive, punctuated only by the sound of her own ragged breathing.

For a moment, Açelya stood frozen, her mind racing with scathing retorts and witty comebacks, but Léon was already gone, leaving her to simmer in her own indignation.

No, this time she won't allow him to undermine her.

Açelya followed Léon out of the bookshop, the soft glow of the luxurious mall's chandeliers illuminated her determined stride. The gentle hum of conversation and the soft clinking of coffee cups from the nearby café created a soothing background melody, but Açelya's mind was far from serene. Her eyes blazed with a fierce inner light, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat, as she navigated through the throngs of shoppers with a singular focus. The opulent surroundings - the gleaming marble floors, the lavish displays of designer goods, and the towering fountains - faded into the background as she closed in on her quarry.

Léon, oblivious to the storm brewing behind him, sauntered through the crowds with the confident air of a man who knew he owned the place. His long strides devoured the distance, his dark hair gleaming in the soft light, his chiseled features set in a expression of bored superiority. But Açelya was not intimidated. She had had enough of his condescending attitude, and she was ready to confront him. As she approached him, the soft rustle of her clothes and the gentle stride of her sneakers, on the marble floor served as a warning, a declaration of her presence that brooked no ignored.

"Léon," she said, her voice firm and even, like a perfectly tuned instrument, cutting through the ambient noise of the mall. "I think you owe me an apology." Her words hung in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down in the midst of the luxurious surroundings. The nearby shoppers, sensing the tension, began to stare, their faces a blur of curiosity and concern. But Açelya stood tall, her eyes locked on Léon's, her jaw set in determination.

Léon turned to face her, a hint of surprise flickering across his features before his usual smirk returned. "Oh? And why is that?"

Açelya's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You insulted my intelligence back there. And I'd like to know if you're willing to admit you were wrong."

Léon raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over her with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "Wrong? About what? Your limited grasp of literary theory? Please, don't make me laugh."

Açelya's face burned with indignation, but she refused to back down. "You have no idea what I'm capable of understanding. And even if I didn't, that doesn't give you the right to belittle me."

Léon snorted, his expression dismissive. "Spare me the drama. If you can't handle a little criticism, then maybe you shouldn't be trying to read books that are beyond your level."

Açelya's eyes flashed with anger, but she kept her cool, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I see. So, it's not about the book at all, is it? It's about you trying to assert your superiority over me. Well, let me tell you, Léon, it's not working."