Richard's POV
As she throws a cold glare my way, my body shudders but not for long.
The sight of her dress spilling over her thigh, her hair relaxing over her shoulder takes my breath away.
Her eyes sparkle despite the anger in them. Her skin is so soft and smooth, and temptations to trail my hands over them run through me.
Suddenly, she steps away, diverting her gaze from me. A man appears in front of her, and I recognize him.
Griffin.
They talk for a second before he leads her upstairs, making me raise a brow in curiosity.
What the hell is he taking her there for? Why is he taking her upstairs?
I did not have time to tend to the jealousy flaring up inside of me when Leonard taps my shoulder with a soft triumphant chuckle.
I twirl around in anticipation to face him.
Even without a word, the truth is obvious. It is her. Every fiber in me can attest to that. Everything about her is familiar to me. There is no denying that she is the one.
But I wanted my doubts cleared. I wanted no more atoms or tiny pieces of doubt left before taking the next action. But now that the truth is stark naked in front of me, I am clueless on what the next action should be.
Ask her to tell the truth? Tell her I have evidence that she is my ex-wife? Tell her I know everything now and it was high time she came clean and let's get past with the past?
Will this partnership even work out if we both know the truth about knowing about each other's real identity?
Leo signals to me to follow him out of the big hall and I obey, staring back to be sure Arabel isn't in sight. When we are outside, I stretch an arm towards him and without a word, he drops it.
It is a recorder.
My only piece of evidence.
“I’m afraid you already know the answer, boss. She is your ex-wife,” he reveals eventually, looking proud of his accomplishment.
If there is anyone I trust to do a job like this, then it is Leo. His skills and confidence are top-notch. The fact that he always manages to include a tiny bit of drama intrigues me.
With a nod, I thank him before heading back to the party just in time to see Arabel coming downstairs with Griffin.
A man approaches her and they talk for a while before he leaves but not without giving her a brief side hug and a peck on the forehead. I furrow my brow.
Just then, it hit me.
She is married. To that young hot dude.
At the thought, my heart sinks. But then, my mind drifts back to the tiny recorder sitting calmly in my pant pockets. I should listen to it. Every answer to all the questions twirling around my head lies there.
Before that, I need to talk to her. I want to know if she is still going to keep up with the pretense. And I want to steal her away from all the perverted-looking old men gawking at her.
Without thinking, I stride towards Griffin, flashing him a professional smile.
“Griffin.”
“Ah, Richard. I'm glad you could make it,” he lets go of Arabel and comes to embrace me. “How is America?”
“Fine. We should talk business before you go back, shouldn't we?” I nod, unable to express my disinterest in talking business with him.
I am not here because of him. I only came here for a purpose; to see Arabel.
I know it sounds crazy considering how she has to come back soon because of our contract but I told myself I can't sit around waiting for Leo to give me a call before I know the answer to my question of who she is. I decided it was best to come as well.
Griffin's invite came in late so I rejected it. When Leo told me she was meeting with him at the party, I took the next available flight just so I wouldn't miss the party.
“I would love to talk to the beautiful woman beside you. She looks familiar like…” Griffin laughs, placing a hand behind her back as a sign for me to go with her.
Red crimson spreads across her face and I don't know if it is out of embarrassment or out of anger. She opens her mouth to protest but he walks off immediately, making me grin widely in excitement.
Our eyes meet and the anger disappears from her expression instantly.
“Good day, Mr. Giodano…”
“Call me Richards and I will call you Bella. We don't need to be formal with each other now that we are partners and also for the fact that we are outside the office.” I say, interrupting her.
She looks at me for a while, making me wonder what must be going through her head. When she smiles, I can't help the tugging up of my lips too in a light smile.
Stretching my hand at her, I ask politely. “Can I have a dance with you?”
“I'm afraid I can not. I need…”
“No!” I shut her up, thinking of an excuse to keep her here. We need to dance, I need to watch her. I need to talk to her.
The thought of seeing her go now leaves an empty feeling inside of me. I know I will be devastated and I will regret coming here for nothing.
“Please stay. It's just one dance,” I try to persuade.
She bites her lower lip, a habit I have noticed in just a few days of seeing each other again which I never knew of her in the years that we have been married as man and wife.
Quilt settles deep inside me, reminding me of how little I cared for and knew about her. She didn't deserve it.
When she takes my hand, I know I won.
Carefully, I take her to the dance floor, conscious of placing her two hands on my shoulder and mine around her waist.
Warmth spread through my back down to my spine and to every part of my body.
Slowly, we dance without a word. She is trying so hard to avoid my gaze but my eyes are fixated upon her. She is too beautiful to miss. Too beautiful to look away from.
Her lips are so inviting with the reddish color aligning the shape.
Her eyes are so sexy.
Alluring.
Inviting.
Tempting.
And her dress compliments it all.
The slit in front of the simple dress does not help in keeping my sense in check as I take in every bit of her like a drunkard.
After five minutes of a quiet dance, she tries to step away but I am quick to hold her back, raising a brow.
“My child,” she murmurs suddenly, looking flushed. “I'm afraid I have to go now. My baby is with the nanny and I promised to be back early.”
I want to be selfish but I can't. I met that cute baby once and she doesn't deserve to be deprived of her mother's love, attention, and presence.
When I remember Mother's assumption of that girl being my child as well, another angle of temptation runs through me, making me want to spill the beans about knowing who she is and asking if Daisy is mine.
This means ruining it all. It means pushing her away.
First, I need to ensure she signs the contract before putting it to her.
“Can I take you home then?” I know she will protest so I quickly add. “We haven't had time to talk about our contract. I'm afraid you need to get back to me earlier than our agreement.”
She looks confused. “Why? Is everything ok?”
“Everything is fine. I'm worried I might have to go on an urgent business trip first thing in the morning and I really have no idea when I am coming back. Might be a day or two or even a week or two,” I reply quickly.
She nods. “It's fine. I can wait till you are back.”
“No!” I almost shout.
Telling her I will be on a trip is just a ploy to get her to sign. I don't have any trips scheduled for this month or the next.
“Don't worry, I will come back so we can talk tomorrow. I really need to go now,” she succeeds in stepping out of my hold, making me feel the absence of her soft waist.
“Bye, Richards.” She waves at me, making me lost in a trance as I watch her leave in a hurry. It seems to me Daisy isn't even the problem.
She is running away from me. Running from my prying eyes. Running from my touch. Running from my watch on her every move.
I could literally feel her tremble while holding her waist. She might seem independent and more mature now but that underlying habit of being scared of eventualities is still deeply rooted in her.
She is brave yet timid.
Shy yet courageous.
I am jerked back to life by the sudden change in song. With a blink, I rush forward towards the door to see if I can perhaps convince her once more that I can take her home. I would love to take her home.
This way, I can always visit whenever she isn't in New York or when I am coming here for a business conference or meeting.
When I get outside, my gaze darts forward, sideways, and backward but she is nowhere to be found.
Frustrated, I let out a grunt before placing my two hands on my waist.
My mind drifts back to the recorder and I grab it quickly with anxiety. I move away from the entrance as more people begin to arrive, parking their cars all around. I find a quiet lighted area before pressing on the recorder and sitting down.
“No, I am not!" It sounds like a yell to something and I furrow my brows in confusion.
What was Leo asking her?
“But you have a child?” Leo's voice booms after the long moment of silence.
“Yes.”
Another silence follows. A long stretchy silence that makes me think the recording is over.
When the sound of her voice reaches my ears again, I relax with more curiosity dripping out of me.
“I was married,” she points out again, sounding like someone who is being forced to confess her sins. “I am a divorcee.”
My heart stops.
I knew it but hearing this from her makes my heart thump more wildly in excitement. I want to jump up and down to have finally found her after so many years but then something else hit my head.
This isn't just about finding her. Leo asked her about her child. Obviously, he was trying to get information about whether she got pregnant out of wedlock or not. And that was her reply.
My heart skips a beat again and I jerk forward as the realization dawns on me suddenly.
Daisy is mine?