An Italian's Conceited King (IRS Book 3)

Chapter 18

Valentina Point of View

'You say you are Garcia kid who is friends with my brother and apparently my fiancée?' The look on my face can give him enough knowledge on how distrustful and lame he sounds.

Like seriously? I have a fiancée? Not just anyone but a Majesty, like the people around him calls?

He doesn't deserve me. He can be a King but his tone has enough sparks to let me know that he is a King of flirt.

'Yes, now come with me so we can talk somewhere private. If people around find out who I am then you will have a hard time handling your dear fiancee's fans. I can't let you experience that on our first meet, yes?' Huh! He definitely is out of my league because he has no league to start with.

How can a person be so conceited?

Does he think he is some kind of God that people kiss the path he walks on?

'Wait a minute, buddy. You have a mask, black shades, a cap covering your face and you are worrying about being found out? You may be my brother's friend like you claim to be but I don't believe and no way am I following you anywhere. To me, you look like a socialite serial killer. Before I gather attention from people around, you better leave and never show your hidden face again.' I gritted and turned around to arrange the heaps of flowers I have in baskets.

Why did he leave ears, he should've covered them too. What if people find out that it's his Majesty's ears that are roaming around without a face?

How scandalous!

He caught me by my arm and turned me around and wrapped his arm around me while his other hand took off the mask and shades from his face.

The moment the covers on his face was taken off, that moment, the same moment when my eyes locked with his arrogant self-love ones, I knew right then and there that he will bring nothing but problems to me.

His eyes, unlike other people in power, contained a strange mix of wisdom and deception that scared me for a moment.

He was a cunning son of a fox and I knew it right that moment.

But – but why the hell is he so handsome. He angular sharp jaw, rough features, smirking lips, eyes filled with love for himself and a very sarcastic arc of eyebrow.

They fit well!

It was as if every feature of his has a life of its own that is playing well to trap me into something I have no knowledge about.

'Looks like my dear fiancée is stumped by her husband-to-be's charms. How about I stop torturing you and just take you to get our marriage registered first before going the formal way.' Huh?

What was he saying? I did not hear much.

Wait... What the hell was he speaking?

And that was how our first meeting started and ended in a span of five good minutes when I took the chance to take my leg to his shin and took the chance to take his shin to a burial ground once and for all.

With a hit on his crouch, a hard one at that, I thought he wouldn't show his handsome face again and forget about this nonsense betrothal he was spinning about. But what I didn't know was he liked to be hit by me.

That was the last time I saw his mask and shades and first time I saw a naughty promise his eyes when he left me.

Years had gone by but our first meeting was still as fresh as new in my memories. The kiss the other night in the bathroom made me forget all the distrust and hate I have for him for a moment.