]Amara stood before the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with a mixture of anxiety and resolve. She couldn’t help but mentally retrace her steps to the moment she had impulsively said yes to Rowan’s dinner invitation. At the time, his charm and persistence had worn down her defenses, but now she was regretting that decision. When she called to cancel, his response had been a thinly veiled threat. He had insisted she come to dinner at her house, and she had no doubt he would make good on that threat if she didn’t show up.
With a resigned sigh, Amara turned away from the mirror and grabbed her keys. She walked towards her car, her thoughts racing. Lucas was waiting for her beside the sleek black vehicle. His face was lined with concern as she approached.
“Miss, are you sure you want to do this?” Lucas asked, his voice low and serious.
Amara nodded, trying to project more confidence than she felt. “Yes, don’t worry, I will take care of myself.”
Lucas’s frown deepened, but he reached into his coat and pulled out a small, discreet handgun. “Miss, take this. We can’t trust Rowan.”
Amara couldn’t help but laugh, though there was little humor in it. “Aren’t you worrying too much, Lucas?”
Lucas chuckled, a sound that was more nervous than amused. “Can’t help myself.”
She took the gun from him, feeling the cold weight of it in her hand. “Alright, take care of Vaughn.”
As she said this, she glanced over at Vaughn, who was absorbed in something on his iPad. Lucas nodded, watching her with a mix of pride and apprehension as she got into her car and drove off.
The drive to the restaurant was a blur of streetlights and darkened buildings, her mind swirling with a thousand thoughts. When she finally arrived, she took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. She straightened her dress, a navy blue outfit that clung to her in all the right places, and walked inside.
The sight that greeted her made her pause in her tracks. The floor was covered in red rose petals, and the entire restaurant was adorned with romantic decorations. For a moment, she thought she had the wrong address or that someone else was being proposed to tonight. But then she noticed the absence of any other customers. It was just her.
A manager approached her with a welcoming smile. “Miss Amara, right?”
She nodded, still feeling slightly dazed. “Yes.”
“Please, welcome, welcome. We have been looking forward to your visit,” he said.
“Excuse me?” Amara replied, her confusion evident.
“Sir has been waiting for you,” the manager explained.
“Sir?” she echoed.
“Mr. Rowan,” the manager clarified.
“Oh, alright,” Amara said, her heart beginning to pound in her chest.
The manager led her to the center of the restaurant, where all the chairs and settings had been removed except for one table, set in the middle of the room. Rowan had gone all out to ensure this night was perfect, at least in his eyes.
Rowan heard her footsteps and turned around. The sight of Amara walking in, led by the manager, took his breath away. She was stunning in her navy blue dress, the color highlighting her features and giving her an air of regal elegance. To Rowan, she looked like a queen, HIS QUEEN!
As Amara approached, Rowan’s mind and heart, both raced. There was something about the way she carried herself, even now, with a mix of grace and defiance that fascinated him.
He had always been drawn to her, ever since they first met. She was unlike anyone he had ever known-intelligent, strong-willed, and impossibly beautiful. He had spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to have her by his side, to be the one she turned to in moments of vulnerability and joy. And tonight, he was one step closer to making that dream a reality.
Rowan’s eyes followed her every movement as she was escorted to the table. He noted the slight hesitation in her step, the way her eyes darted around the room, taking in the extravagant setup. He could tell she was trying to maintain her composure, but the underlying tension was palpable.
As the manager left them alone, Rowan stood up, his gaze fixed on Amara. “You look absolutely stunning, Amara,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.
“Thank you,” she replied, her tone polite but distant.
“Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the chair opposite him.
Amara hesitated for a moment before sitting down, her posture rigid. Rowan could sense her discomfort, but he was determined to break through her defenses.
He observed her as she glanced around the lavishly decorated restaurant, the candlelight casting a soft glow on her features.
“Isn’t it too much, Rowan, for a dinner?” Amara asked, her voice laced with skepticism.
Rowan smiled, leaning back slightly. “Too much, to have dinner with you? Nope, not at all.”
Amara paused, thinking about how she should respond. She sighed, deciding to cut to the chase. “Let’s just have dinner.”
Rowan’s smile widened, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. “So that you can run after that?”
Amara frowned, not understanding his implication. “Huh?”
“Run and chase would be a nice play, don’t you think?” he suggested, his tone playful yet serious.
A cold sweat went down Amara’s spine. She straightened herself, trying to maintain her composure. “You’re overthinking. I just want to go home and sleep.”
Rowan chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “We can take a room here to sleep as well. What do you think?”
Without missing a beat, Amara pulled out the gun Lucas had given her earlier. She pointed it at Rowan, her expression fierce. “If you keep talking nonsense, I will shoot you, Rowan.”
Rowan’s chuckle grew into a full laugh as he looked at the gun in her hands. For some reason, he found her hands wrapped around the gun quite delicate. It was an interesting contrast, her strength and fragility interwoven.
“Fine, let’s have dinner,” he conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender.
Amara felt a surge of pride as she saw Rowan back down. A triumphant smile spread across her face, and Rowan couldn’t help but smile in return. Her spirit, her fire.. it was intoxicating…!
As they settled into their meal, the initial tension between them began to ease. The food was exquisite, each course a masterpiece of flavors and presentation. Rowan had gone to great lengths to ensure everything was perfect, and it showed.
“So,” Rowan began after a few moments of silence, “tell me something about yourself that I don’t know.”
Amara looked at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Why should I?”
“Because I’m genuinely interested,” he replied, his tone sincere.
She studied him for a moment, trying to gauge his true intentions. “I don’t see why you would be.”
“Because you fascinate me, Amara,” he said simply. “You’re strong, intelligent, and beautiful. I want to know more about you.”
Amara’s heart skipped a beat at his words, but she quickly reminded herself to stay cautious. “Alright. One thing. I love painting.”
Rowan’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Painting? I never would have guessed.”
“It’s something I do to relax,” she admitted, feeling slightly vulnerable.
“I’d love to see your work sometime,” he said earnestly.
“We’ll see,” she replied, not committing to anything.