Prologue Part 3

By the tilt of her head and even with her eyes concealed, she was obviously looking at Frank and not me. I felt irritated for some reason but kept my face straight and void of any emotions. We wouldn’t want to be too obvious, would we?

She turned to me and looked up. She looked like she wasn't pleased with the idea of me being six to seven inches taller than her, as she visibly tried to adjust her height and straightened her back all the more. "You must be Jordan Gallagher?" She queried, her well-defined eyebrows arched, awaiting any type of reaction from me. I noticed that she didn't extend her hand for a handshake, but simply looked at me behind her sunglasses.

I found myself just staring at her. All of my experiences with women, my sweet talking talented self refused to take over, and I suddenly felt tongue-tied. The need to drink some cold beverage became so strong that I felt my throat go dry. She eyed me from head to toe, seemingly assessing why I was dressed in crumpled fatigues and questioning my life choices like keeping a three-week old beard. I inwardly moaned for not shaving before Frank and I went out to meet her. I notice her lips twisting as if trying to find the most polite words to say to me.

"I'm Vee," she said, finally extending her hand in a manner that said don't dare ignore my hand or I'll cut your balls. "Venera Rustik Yates."

Her last name quickly registered, and her familiar face explained it. She had features like Viktor's, and her proud stance like her father. I had never gotten the chance to meet her at parties, and I think I could recall Viktor saying that he had a spoiled little sister who started a modeling career at the tender age of six who traveled around the world in her private plane for her projects. She was the daughter whom the Yates matriarch had died giving birth to. The Yates senior had sworn to let go of all his wealth just for the doctors to save his daughter's life, after his wife failed to survive. No wonder, the only princess of the Yates grew up with such glory in her entire being.

I realized I had zoned out for some time, as I felt another poke from Frank, who was already looking at me with disdainful eyes, reminding me that I haven't accepted the heiress' offered hand. I don't usually feel awkward with handshakes as I always get one with my line of work, but this time as I stared at the woman before me, I felt like turning around to find a faucet and quickly rinse my hand to get rid of dirt. But no, I didn't have time to do just that, unfortunately, and the raised eyebrow of the Yates princess looked like I needed to salute instead.

And I realized, I still had not extended my damn hand.

Finally giving up, and with her eyebrows arched dangerously higher than earlier, she withdrew her hand and slowly - very slowly - took off her sunglasses. I subconsciously held my breath. What I saw almost made my entire being shake with anticipation. I felt my breathing escalate and my ribs hurt with the intensity of my heartbeat as I received the most vicious yet enticing glare I had ever been thrown my entire life. Her bright green eyes were captivating. They were so bright that they seemed to emanate with their own luminescence and the tiny flecks of black lines outlined her irises like a powerful aura. Her lashes were very dark and long that they looked naturally curled to perfection. Her nose was upturned, seated in the middle of her face like a proud royalty ready to breathe fire at anyone who dares object to her wishes. As my eyes traveled downward, I glimpsed at her lips which were slightly pouting, evidently displeased that I didn't care to shake her hand in greeting. I would like to apologize for my ungentlemanly behavior, but I doubt if the princess would even accept it.

"I know you're wondering how I figured out your hiding place," she said, going straight to business. She folded her arms across her chest, and with my eyes following her every move, her lovely bosom didn't escape me. I felt my throat go dry for some reason.

I heard Frank clear his throat and offered to usher us to a private room where we could talk. As we passed other tables, I noticed men and women alike cast an admiring look at my visitor. I even saw one of the guards grin at Frank suggestively, and I felt a little irked by it. Ignoring my other self's urge to break the guard's neck, I followed where Frank had led the Yates princess.

Once we were seated in the private room, the lovely lady gratefully took the bottled water on the table offered by Frank and savored the drink. I found myself swallowing hard as I watched her slender throat glide up and down as she drank. She tossed the now empty bottle into the garbage can and then in one swift movement, turned to face me again, all ready for business.

“I am here,” she growled like a lioness, “ to ask for your hand in marriage.”