All I've Never Wanted(21)
"Yes. As long as you agree to the terms I just stated."
"The terms you just stated."
Roman shot me an exasperated look. "Did a parrot fly in here while I wasn't looking and take over brain?" he growled, his temper back in full force.
He was clearly bipolar.
I smiled sweetly. "Of course not," I cooed, feeling a flash of satisfaction at the surprise that leapt up in his eyes at my tone of voice. "Don't be silly." I stepped closer. "Even I have to admit your offer is so generous there's only one thing I can say…SCREW YOU!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, nearly shaking from the intensity of the fury I felt inside. I emphasized my statement with a loud slap across his face. I swear the sound echoed in the huge room.
I only had a moment to revel in the absolute shock that crossed his face—now marred by a bright red handprint on his left cheek—before I regained my senses, took advantage of his temporary immobility, and hauled ass out of there.
* * *
She had slapped him. Slapped him. Him. Roman Fiori. Sole heir to a fortune so vast it probably couldn't even be translated into hard cash because there weren't enough hundred dollar bills in existence. The leader of the Scions. Ranked as the #1 billionaire heir under the age of 25 by a leading global business magazine. The most powerful teenager in Valesca.
Roman gritted his teeth as he reached up to touch his cheek. It had been hours since Maya had left him standing there in the kitchen, too stunned to move.
He could almost still feel the sting of her slap. What shocked him even more than the act itself, though, was the mixture of emotions that had been plaguing him since the incident. Sure, he was furious, but he was also confused. After all, his offer had been exceptionally generous; for any other person, Roman would've gone to all lengths to make sure they would never wanted to step foot in Valesca again. The emotions that worried him most, though, were those of reluctant admiration and something else he couldn't quite name, but was sure he didn't like.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Roman stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, trying to calculate his next move. However, the only thing his mind could focus on was Maya slapping him across the face. Maya trudging home from school before he'd brought her here. Maya getting harassed by the other students. Maya yelling at him at that party.
The events of the last week sped through his mind like a tape on repeat rewind, flying by faster and faster until he felt like his head was about to explode.
"Agh!" Bolting upright, he flung his pillow across the room, where it hit the wall with a dull thud before sliding to the floor. Unfortunately, the pillow-throwing did nothing to alleviate his inner turmoil.
Roman scowled. "Stupid, stupid girl…" he muttered under his breath. "Stupid Adriana. Stupid Stan Hoffman…if he hadn't thrown that party, none of this would have happened…" He was quite aware of how ridiculous he sounded, but no one else was here, so who gave a f*ck?
However, despite himself, Roman couldn't help but possess a burning curiosity about Maya. He hadn't bothered to really learn much about her, but now, for some reason, he wanted to know more. How did this girl, who had managed to slip past not just his but all of his friends' radars for so long, manage to withstand what had broken so many others in the past? Her resilience both frustrated and intrigued him.
He hadn't been in this much emotional turmoil since…well, ever. He really needed to get the damn girl off his mind, though he had a sneaking suspicion it would not be easy.
Roman narrowed his eyes as he went over his possible courses of action.
After deliberating for a few minutes, he grabbed his phone from his nightstand and scrolled through his phonebook until he came to the right number.
The phone rang only once before Richard, his father’s third assistant and his occasional personal assistant, picked up.
"It's me," Roman said, not bothering with niceties as he slid off his bed and walked over to the dresser mirror. He stared at his reflection. Was it just his imagination, or was there still the slightest hint of pink on his cheek? "Listen, I need you to get some information for me…”
* * *
He didn't seem to be coming after me. I glanced cautiously over my shoulder, but I didn't see a Ferrari attempting to run me over, and it had already been fifteen minutes.
Even though Roman was probably scheming up another plan to make my life more of a hell than it already was, at least he wasn't chasing me down. I'm not slow or anything, but I can't outrun an Italian sports car. Hell, even Usain Bolt can't outrun that Ferrari.
With a sigh, I trudged down the sidewalk, though I was unable to stop myself from gawking at the glimpses of huge mansions hidden by thick, lush shrubbery and tall iron gates. I was willing to bet none of them could rival the Fioris' massive estate. It may house the devil himself in that opulent interior, but it had all the trappings of a paradise on earth. When Roman had pulled inside the gates, it was all I could do not to gasp out loud at the sheer luxury of it all. The main house itself could put Versailles to shame.
I shook my head slightly.
I couldn’t believe arrogant twits like Roman got to lounge around their mansions and fly their private jets to ridiculously expensive locales where they did the exact same things they do at home—shop, party and turn their noses up at those less fortunate than themselves—when there were people starving out there.