Ruined By My Brother's Best Friend (by Silverwriter) novel Chapter 151

Memories of the way he kissed me, only to back out and tell me he regretted it rushed back and I was pissed all over again. “Henry Ashford.”

“And what did I tell you?”

I glared at him, refusing to let my body weaken my resolve. “I don’t know. You should remember your own words.”

He brought a hand to my throat and squeezed lightly. My lungs felt deprived of air and his touch brought fear and anticipation. “Your mouth, Arabella. Do you want me to shut you up again?”

The way his lips had closed over mine and the way he kissed me without actually kissing me… I remembered it all.

I was suddenly hot, so I looked away, avoiding the heat of his stare. “I want you to leave me alone.”

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

I bit down on my lip, refusing to turn.

Alvise’s fingers trailed along my chin, and then, without warning, he used his hold on my chin to force me to face him.

eyes narrowed. “You’re going to go back there, grab your things, and then leave this restaurant. Now.”

I pushed his hand away from my face. “No. I’m NOT doing that. I’m going to go back there and continue enjoying my date.”

“What part of this conversation made you think I was asking you to do it?” He scraped his tongue over his teeth. “It was not a request.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever it is,” I said, glaring at him, “an order, a request…” I placed my hand on his chest and fisted his suit jacket. “A freaking command.” I used my hold on his chest to pull his face down until I could make out every contour of his face. “I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.”

I pushed him away, my hands shaking. He moved back, and I knew it wasn’t my flimsy push that had moved him. With my head held high, I moved toward the door.

“I’m done playing games with you, Arabella.”

I turned around to look at Alvise. He was in front of the mirror, calmly adjusting his suit jacket and rubbing his hands over the barely-there wrinkle that had formed from my touch.

“I had no idea we were playing a game,” I said, my eyes catching his in our reflection.

Alvise adjusted his cufflink and nodded. “We have been.” He turned on the tap and washed his hands, his fingers rubbing against each other at what looked like a painful speed. “And I have been playing the game of restraint. That ends now.”

I raised a brow, confused by his words but alarmed by the hard line of his jaw and the way his veins stood out as he washed his hands for a moment too long. “What does that mean?”

He turned off the tap and straightened, his eyes still on mine. “You’ll soon fucking know.”

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