CH.7

Scarlet's sleek red Lamborghini purred as it emerged from the garage a little over a minute later, its powerful engine rumbling like a wild animal.

Following close behind was a black SUV carrying her team of burly bodyguards like silent, intimidating sentries protecting their charge.

Her car had just crossed over the bridge that linked the city's main arteries and was about to make a right turn at the traffic light when a flashy black sports car blew through the intersection, clearly running the red light.

Tires squealed as the two vehicles collided with a sickening crunch of metal on metal.

"Son of a bitch!" Scarlet snarled, her delicate features contorting into an enraged glare as she gripped the steering wheel in a tight grip.

Who the hell was this reckless douchebag with the audacity to drive like such an irresponsible jackass and damage her prized car she cherished more than life itself?

The other driver's blatant irresponsibility and disregard for traffic laws infuriated her to her core.

A burning wrath ignited low in her belly as she realized her beloved vehicle had undoubtedly suffered damage from the senseless incident.

Just as her rage started to boil over, the driver's side door of the offending car swung open and a young man stepped out, his expression indignant - as if he had done nothing wrong.

The arrogant sneer on his face only stoked Scarlet's fury higher.

She forced herself to remain seated, letting her bodyguards handle the situation while she watched through tinted windows.

Her disapproving glare intensified when a group of men in crisp black suits - seemingly the other party's security detail - emerged to flank and assist the young man.

Her own guards immediately moved to surround him in a silent threat.

The two groups quickly engaged in a tense standoff, posturing and sizing each other up for an inevitable physical altercation.

Scarlet rubbed her temples tiredly, feeling the first twinges of a tension headache coming on.

Couldn't these idiots act like civilized adults for once instead of behaving like primitive gorillas?

Flinging her door open, she stepped out gracefully and barked, "Stand down!"

Her men reluctantly retreated a few paces, still shielding her protectively as she moved forward to confront the insolent young man herself.

He met her furious glare with an unsettling look that she couldn't quite pinpoint. Was it curiosity? Disdain?

There was something unreadable simmering behind his eyes that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

The man exuded a palpable aura of menace and power that should have been intimidating. Yet...there was an undeniable charm and magnetism about him too - the kind that caused a subtle, unwanted ache of desire to spark low in a woman's belly. The kind that made her clench her thighs together instinctively.

'Damn it, what Am I thinking?' Scarlet berated herself harshly and quickly shoved the inappropriate thought aside, focusing on keeping her expression neutral.

"Look, we're both adults here," she said in a tone of forced calm. "I don't think it's necessary to turn this into a street brawl. Send your goons back and I'll do the same with mine."

Dane glared at her menacingly, one eyebrow arching in a clear look of disdain. It was evident he found her statement completely unacceptable.

"Nobody gives me orders, lady," he sneered, his voice a dangerous rumble. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Scarlet arched one perfectly sculpted eyebrow disapprovingly. One of her guards started to step forward, but she subtly waved him off before he could disclose her identity and escalate the confrontation further.

"It doesn't matter who I am," she replied with an edge of steel. "You're the one who caused this whole mess, not me. And I don't care about getting the damage repaired if that's what you're worried about. Could you please just move out of the way so my people and I can be on our way?"

Scarlet squinted slightly when Dane’s expression remained impassive, almost as if he hadn't heard a single word she said. In fact, his pupils were visibly dilating as his gaze raked over her body with unsettling intensity, hungrily drinking in every lush curve accentuated by the slinky red dress that clung to her like a second skin.

He was a lover of the color red.

His darkened eyes skimmed over the exquisite lines and luscious contours of her magnificent form with undisguised appreciation.

Dane's eyes closed briefly, swallowing hard as if struggling for control over himself. He couldn't quite believe that this girl - the very same girl who was meant to be a mere target for his hatred - could take his breath away in such an unexpected way.

He knew everything about her, from her daily appointments down to the most minute details of her life.

He wielded complete power over all her channels of communication. This was the same woman he had cultivated a deep, abiding loathing for his entire life, long before they ever met face-to-face. And now that their paths had finally crossed...

A faint, sinister smile curved Dane’s lips as he watched Scarlet's graceful figure turn and sashay back to her vehicle, feeling his long-planned revenge taking an intriguing new twist.

She slid back into the purring Lamborghini before it peeled away with a squeal of expensive tires, the black SUV close on its tail, leaving the young man standing alone and watching until her car disappeared from sight.

Dane closed his eyes again, head falling back as he vividly recalled the mouthwatering sight of her - that slinky red dress, red lips, black nails and stilettos...all wrapped around a body that was pure, undeniable temptation.

He turned abruptly on his heel and stalked back to his own car, his security detail scrambling to follow as he roared away in another squeal of tortured rubber.

He'd always had a particular affinity for the color red, and it was only amplified to dizzying heights when paired with black in such a deliciously wicked combination.

"Damn that bitch!" Dane snarled through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

He slammed a fist against the steering wheel hard enough to make the chassis shudder violently.

With a screech of protesting tires, he wrenched the wheel and changed direction, making a beeline for one of his private warehouses at breakneck speed.

It was his usual coping mechanism whenever his anger reached the boiling point - to retreat to his lair and attempt to regain control while he wrestled his rising, primal urges back into submission.

Only this time, his fury was laced with another undercurrent entirely...one with a more base, carnal edge that both terrified and intrigued him in a way he didn't fully understand.