Red String Of Fate

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“Oh my holy shizzcakes.” I murmured to myself. I noticed the entire hall was now staring at us with a mixture of shock, surprise, anger and jealously. I opened and closed my mouth, speechless. Literally. Suddenly, Kyler grabbed me and pulled me out of the hall. I felt the guards close the door behind me as we left. He jabbed at the elevator and it came down extremely quickly. I wonder if the elevator was fingerprint activated. It never came down that quickly for me. He walked in and I followed unsure of what else to do. He pressed the screen and typed in an unknown level. He entered a pass code and the elevator doors closed.

As the elevator doors opened again, it led to a private presidential suite, similar to mine. He pushed me onto the sofa and studied me. I gazed back into his eyes with confusion and he spoke for the first time.

“You’re the one who stole my suite.” I frowned at his words. This suite was most definitely his. What on earth did he mean? Then it clicked.

“You’re the jerk who walked in on me in the bathroom.” I got onto my feet with exasperation. I didn’t pay attention to his face when he first raided my suite’s bathroom because I was more preoccupied with hiding myself under the water.

He raised his eyebrows at my choice of words. “Tell me your name.”

“It’s polite to state yours first before asking.” I replied, being extremely difficult.

“You already know mine.” He countered and I frowned.

“I don’t care.” I stood my ground stubbornly and he sighed.

“My name is Kyler Thorne. Now who the hell are you?”

“It was not so nice to meet you but anyway, I’m Reni.”

“Reni …?”

“You don’t need to know.” I sat back down and glared at him.

“I think I do.” He rested his penetrating gaze on me and I sighed and co-operated.

“Reni Taylor.” I smiled to the best of my ability considering the situation.

“Right. So Reni, tell me how the hell you ended up with your lip on my lip?” He sat down opposite me and picked up a already waiting glass of wine.

“It’s a long story.” I began hoping he would just say he didn’t have time and leave. No such luck.

“I have time.” He relaxed and began to swirl his wine.

I glanced at the clock before I began again. “So … the lights went out.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, following my story.

“I was making my way to the wall so no-one would bump into me in the panic.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, someone bumped into me.”

“And?”

“I dropped my champagne glass.”

“Clumsy.”

“Stop interrupting. Do you want to know or not?” I glared at him, annoyed. He held his hands up in a surrendering way and let me continue.

“It was dark. People were shrieking. I tried to sidestep the glass but I failed and I stepped on it instead. I cut myself.” I pointed to the part of my calf where a red mark ran across it and some dried blood stained the skin while fresh blood still flowed out from the cut.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice before.” He apologised out of proper etiquette. “Let’s clean you up.” He got up and headed for the bathroom. He came back with a first aid kit. He kneeled in front of me and began to work at the wound. I felt slightly nervous and looked away from the blood. I felt the antiseptic scorch my skin and I let out a small whimper of pain.