Chapter 9: Bianca - Crush - Change

Bianca
Crush

A text from Miles woke me up the following morning. The house was quiet and the sun had long-since risen by the time I stumbled out of bed. I quickly realized that no one was present except Titus.

He was sitting in the breakfast nook reading the paper when I dragged myself into the kitchen. I felt slightly better today, and by tomorrow, I’d probably be pain-free entirely. I appreciated that everyone had obviously decided to let me sleep in.

But still…

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I sat at the table across from the dragon. “Where…” I started, but then my attention drifted to the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon being pushed across the table toward me.

“They went out,” Titus answered my unspoken question as he also slid a glass of orange juice beside the plate. I eyed the orange liquid, wishing it was coffee instead. “Drink it anyway,” he commanded, breaking through my disdain.

I looked to him, a shiver shooting down the back of my neck. Was he reading my mind? Not right now, it was too soon. “C-can you…”

“No.” Titus’s forehead wrinkled, and expression dropped slightly. “I can read what you’re thinking on your face. You’re a little bit predictable that way.”

I absolutely was not. To prove him wrong I grabbed the juice, sipping it without complaint while eating the rest of my breakfast.

Meanwhile, Titus outlined the plans for the day. “I’m taking you to work with me.”

I chewed on the bacon, waiting for more, but he didn’t say anything else. He’d picked up the paper and held the coffee back to his mouth before I finally prodded, “And…?”

Titus lowered the cup. “‘And’ what?” His voice was light, and I almost imagined he was teasing me.

“What else are we going to do today?” My thoughts were still safe, and so I let them wander. We were going to Titus’s office, which meant that the mystery might finally be uncovered. Would it be like the movies, where he had a slick modernistic lair and a million resources at his disposal? Would there be multiple TV-sized computers mounted on the walls, face-recognition software, and rows and rows of guns?

I bet there was—his bedroom already carried much of that vibe.

“Probably paperwork.” Titus hummed as his attention drifted to the large window. “A few conference calls. Then lunch.”

“Oh.” I stared at my eggs, suddenly sad. That didn’t sound very fun at all. Would my phone battery survive the day, or should I bring a charger?

“Yeah, the afternoons are better. I can’t kill anyone until after twelve,” Titus replied coolly. “Too much bloodshed in the morning is considered bad luck.”

I blinked, unsure that I’d heard him correctly, before peering at him. “What?”

“What?” he repeated, lightly swirling his coffee cup before taking one last drink, looking as if he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary at all. “I said that there might be some collection efforts in the afternoon, but I’m not sure. It depends on what Maria has on the schedule.”

No. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he remained unaffected.

That wasn’t what he said at all.

“Get dressed.” Titus inclined his head, clearly referring to my current state of unreadiness. “Once you’re done, we can go.”

I scrambled to my feet, barely pausing to swallow down the two white pills that’d been left beside my plate. I wasn’t about to miss this for the world.

* * *

We were on the road less than a half-hour before Titus pulled off the highway, following an off-path—but surprisingly smooth—road that led through the woods. Even though the best of the fall foliage had long since cleared, the vegetation was surprisingly beautiful. I pressed my face against the glass to get a better look.

“Like what you see?” Titus asked lightly.

“Yes.” My breath fogged up the tinted windows, and I pulled my sweater over my wrist, rubbing at the spot. “How are they still colorful right now?”

Titus hummed under his breath before responding. “I wonder.” There was a hint of mystery in his voice—enough to cause me to tear my attention away from the lingering reds and oranges to look at him. The corner of his mouth curled up, but his attention remained on the road. “I enjoy autumn colors and make sure to surround myself with plants that will still bloom later in the season.”

I glanced outside once more. Considering it this way made sense. After all, my element was Wood, which was the representative of spring. And for as long as I could remember, that’d been my favorite season. “So is Metal autumn?”

“Yes,” Titus replied.

“Does that mean we’re getting close to your office?”

Titus didn’t answer. Instead, he followed the road to the left, and as we rounded another corner, a large, gleaming building stood in front of us. This time when I pressed my face to the glass, it wasn’t to look at the trees.

It was several stories high, and where the pale white, reflective siding wasn’t shimmering in the sunlight, ran rows of wall-length windows. Despite that, it was impossible to see inside even from several yards away, which meant that the windows were prime for privacy.

This was a building that a man with money should own. Not like Damen’s affinity for items and homes in various states of disrepair—although, to be honest, I’d grown rather fond of the onmyoji’s sentimental reasoning.

It was kind of cute.

Still, I was gaping as Titus pulled the SUV under a glass-covered overpass, and by the time I managed to pull myself together, he’d already jumped out of the vehicle and was opening my door.

“Do you like it?” he asked, holding my hand against his chest as he helped me down. I could feel his heart racing under my palm, and I realized that he was worried I’d disapprove.

But what I thought didn’t matter. It was his business.

However, the fact that he cared made me feel important. “Yes,” I managed, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s very… you.”

His face lit up, and he placed my hand into the crook of his arm as he walked me past the sliding glass doors and past the staring doorman.

I wanted to remind him that we were supposed to be only friends, and generally speaking, male friends didn’t lead their female friends around in such a manner. But there was acute excitement in the way he carried himself. I couldn’t stand to ruin it.

As we moved through the lobby and toward the silver elevator, his jaw softened and his shoulders relaxed from a tension I didn’t even realize he’d been carrying. His fingers twisted in mine as the elevator moved to the top floor, and he was almost smiling by the time we reached a light oak doorway.

I didn’t think I’d ever seen him this happy, and I couldn’t bring myself to burst his bubble.

It wasn’t until Titus used one hand to throw open the door, pulling me after him into the room, that my apprehension began to kick it into gear.

Because, really, what was I doing? We’d been on our first official date just yesterday, and now I was going, alone, into his private office with him.

I’d read enough boy-on-boy dark romances where the innocent happy-go-lucky office worker was seduced by the brooding, wealthy C-E-O to know how this scenario might play out. But Titus would have more morals, I was sure. He would not toss me onto his extremely study-looking, but very tidy, desk and kiss me breathless. He was far from being a dark, brooding antihero with multiple secrets.

Wasn’t he?

“Titus Ducharme!” Maria’s furious shout greeted us as we entered the room. “Where have you been since yesterday? How dare you just leave…” She stormed through an attached doorway, and her angry tirade trailed off as she spotted me waving stupidly at her.

“Bianca!” Her perky—but angry—face shone bright red, and she glared at Titus. The dragon was smirking and ignored her as he led me to the desk that held my fascination only seconds before. “You ass,” she told him.

But why? I slowly lowered my still-raised hand back to my side.

“Not you,” Titus told me, guiding me to the light grey leather chair. “Maria’s upset because I skipped a boring meeting yesterday afternoon.”

“Boring meeting?” The embarrassment dropped from her face, and she narrowed her blazing eyes at the dragon. “I worked for weeks to set that up. But…” her attention returned to me, and her features softened into a polite smile. “Hello, Bianca. I’m really glad to see you.”

Was she though?

My heart was breaking, though I was certain that neither shifter could tell. I was an expert in hiding these things, after all. But I’d thought we might be friends, even going so far as to ignore that lingering feeling in my gut that tried to convince me that she didn’t really like me. She wasn’t avoiding me, I’d tried to reason, she was a busy woman.

After all, Titus, while somehow productive, seemed to obey no one but himself.

But seriously, what was the point of even having a personal assistant if he wasn’t going to let her do her job?

Besides, what must really hurt her self-esteem was the fact that, despite not listening to her, he still appeared to be so successful. No wonder she was so angry.

So, clearly, she had a lot of personal issues keeping her away. Of course, she didn’t want to be friends with me. I was a basket case who came with a ton of baggage.

“I need to get to work,” Titus said, unbuttoning his suit jacket and laying it across his desk. “Maria, can you take Bianca down to the café?”

Maria stepped back, dropping her clipboard back to her side as she stared, open-mouthed, at the dragon.

Yes, it was obvious she wanted nothing to do with me.

What was he doing? My skin burned in embarrassment, and I sank further down into my seat. I was too ashamed to speak or to show any sort of indignation at the insinuation that he needed to arrange playdates for me.

I didn’t want playdates. I wanted friends.

An image of the boys crossed my thoughts, and I pressed my hands to my cheeks as I shook my head, willing the reminder away.

They didn’t count as friends—not platonic ones. It was easy to admit, at least sometimes, that whatever this weird relationship thing we had going on between the five of us, it wasn’t the same as good old-fashioned girl-on-girl friendship. The boys didn’t want to get manicures with me—although Titus did like to do my hair.

And there was also my lingering fear that I might have to admit that Bryce was right, about one thing at least. It was becoming dangerous to wear my usual nightclothes around them. Damen, especially, stared in the most unnerving ways.

So soon, slumber parties between us might have to be taken off the table too.

This was just the worst.

“O-okay!” The stunned look finally dropped from Maria’s open-mouthed expression. She pulled the clipboard to her chest, glancing at me only once, before she fidgeted nervously. “Let me just get my stuff.”

* * *

I decided to wait until Maria finished settling into the seat across from me, Jack and Coke in hand, before daring to test the waters.

We’d been waited on, of course, because what security-based office building didn’t come complete with a fully staffed restaurant and café? And my cappuccino appeared on the table almost instantly. But to order alcohol, Maria was still required to pick up her beverage from the bar.

Because an open bar, too, was apparently a completely normal perk of an everyday nine-to-five security position.

Then again, I wasn’t stupid. Most of Titus’s employees were probably shifters. I was still unfamiliar with the biology involved, but my werewolf comics had theorized that the metabolism of alcohol and drugs was much different in shifters than humans.

These people could drink on the job—they’d probably never gotten drunk in their lives.

These people were also incredibly nosy.

Sure, they’d averted their eyes when Maria was with me, but the second she slipped away, I could feel their attention on me. I was nervous, embarrassed, and still a tiny bit upset about yesterday. The last thing I wanted was to be stared at.

Maria was unhappy too. She didn’t even wait until returning to the table before she’d begun tossing back her drink.

Still, my impatience got the better of me, and Maria had barely sat down before I broke the suffocating silence. “I’m sorry.”

She then decided to put my working theory about shifters and their alcohol tolerance to the test by losing her balance and dropping her cup to the floor. She proceeded to fall into her seat as her elbow banged loudly against the table.

I was too stunned to even speak again. How was it that I managed to injure her in this manner every time the two of us went out? Granted, we’d only ever gone out twice, but still…

Two out of two was a rather concerning record.

“What?” She cradled her elbow and waved the concerned wait-staff away. “Why are you sorry?”

“Well…” I glanced at the broken glass on the floor, everything in me itching to make it better. “I hurt you again.”

“How?” she asked. “I fell on my own.”

“But it was my fault,” I pointed out.

She let out a loud groan, pressing her face into the table as she wrapped her hands over the back of her head. “I can’t do this.”

I knew it.

I clutched my fingers in my lap.

She really didn’t want to be friends. I was nothing more than a presumptuous loser.

“You need to stop,” she continued, not even looking up at me. I bit my bottom lip as I braced myself for her next words. “It’s fine to be sensitive, I can roll with that. But you have to stop apologizing all the time. You cannot blame yourself for other people’s actions. You do it with Finn, and you do it with me. You’re stressing yourself out for no reason. Good leaders know when to take ownership of something.”

I straightened in my seat. We might not be friends, and my dreams might be shattered, but I couldn’t let this misinformation continue unopposed.

“Actually.” I pressed my finger to my chin, my thoughts racing to put my conviction into words. “A good leader is responsible for their subjects—that includes any mistakes they make or if they turn evil. ‘The buck stops here’ and all that. It is a leader’s responsibility when there is a failure. So if you get hurt while doing something with me, that’s my fault.”

She looked up, forehead wrinkling as her mouth remained hidden behind her arm. “That’s completely different. I’m not your subject, I’m your friend.” My heart skipped at her words, but she wasn’t finished yet. “I’m not going to blindly follow your orders, which means I’m going to tell you flat out if something is stupid. If it’s something I disagree with, I won’t do it. That means that if I mess up, it’s on me, not you.”

A lot of what she was saying made sense, but there was only one thing my thoughts could focus on…

“My… friend?”

Maria pushed herself off the table, crossing her arms in front of her as she answered. “Well, duh.” She leaned closer. “Do you think I’d skip work for any other reason?”

“But…” That didn’t make sense. She’d been so annoyed with Titus for bringing me here. “You yelled at Titus and called him a butt.”

“Oh, him.” She leaned back in her seat. “That’s because he could have just told me that he was going to be with you, and I never would have gotten angry. There’s usually only one reason he’d disappear in the middle of the day.” She stroked her chin. “Then again, I could have just guessed. Outside of being abducted, you’re the only other thing that’s been able to get him out of this office.”

“But…” I bit my lip. “He always seems to be skipping…”

“He hates meetings.” Maria waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Hates them. The only sort he’s interested in are those that require finesse, which is not something that most of these day-to-day operations involve.”

I bunched my skirt in my fist, feeling both pleased and nervous at her statement. On one hand, it made sense. I really couldn’t see him being happy discussing budgets all day. If there were other aspects to his work that he enjoyed first, I could definitely see him being a workaholic. However, there was also something else she’d said that was concerning.

“Titus has been abducted?”

Maria looked up, having just dropped napkins on the floor to clean the drink. “Sure,” she answered. “Loads of times, though never against his will.” Her grin faltered, and she let out a low breath at my questioning stare. “Bianca, his work is dangerous. He consults with law enforcement to track down drug mules, bust black markets, and takes down human trafficking rings. This company also specialized as hired muscle for certain industries. Titus’s skills are well known across many locations, and even those who have zero connection to our world just because of the work he does, and the fact that he’ll work for almost anyone. That’s how he’s gotten so successful; his biggest competitors will only focus within the supernatural realm.”

“How can you be abducted on purpose?” My pulse raced and palms sweat.

All her statements had been very loaded, but that would have to wait. He’d always been so indiscernible in my eyes, and—as a supernatural Mafia leader—always the one in charge. Placing yourself as a prisoner was the opposite of being in charge.

It meant that on a regular basis, he was the one in danger—not everyone else.

“Undercover work mostly,” Maria mused. “He won’t tell me when he plans on doing something like that, which is why I get upset.”

“Because he might die?” My voice was smaller than I wanted, but it was a difficult question to ask.

She barked out a laugh, not even pausing when the waitress returned to drop off another coffee. But she did wait until the woman left before answering. “No.” She clarified, even though I’d already gotten that from her reaction. “What most people fail to understand is that Titus is only a prisoner when he wants to be. Sometimes I think he likes it. It gives him a chance to cut loose and really rip people to pieces. He’ll only do it on investigations where he wants to inflict maximum damage.”

“And it’s dangerous?” Obviously, it was. I found myself leaning on the table as I waited for her response anyway. Finally, I was getting some answers. “That’s why you get worried?”

“I don’t get worried.” Maria suddenly slammed her fist on the table, and I jumped back in my seat as my coffee splashed over the edge of my mug. “How dare he not ask me to go with him? The only thing I get is a trip to the weight room. How come he does all the fun stuff without me? It’s been ages since I’ve killed some degenerates.”

Oh.

That made sense too. Maria was a lioness, and very energetic. And I, too, understood the feeling of just wanting to punch something. It could be very gratifying.

“Should we do something together?” I asked, trying to come up with a solution. After all, video games were beginning to grow rather boring. I’d hoped that Brayden, at least, might offer up a strategic challenge, but I’d beaten him as easily as Bryce.

I might be able to study strategy. I really preferred not to get sweaty, if possible. But then again, Maria was a lioness, and she would enjoy such physical activities. In the wild, it was the lioness who hunted and killed, while the male lion remained useless in the background.

She could be a fighter, and I, her manager. That might be fun.

We could make so much money. Probably.

She lowered her head, glancing around the room to make sure no one was listening, and leaned across the table.

“What do you mean?” She was whispering. “What are you thinking?”

“Bryce is still holding my money hostage,” I told her. “And I need to make investments and do things.”

“How is he holding your money hostage?” Maria frowned. “That doesn’t sound like him. He’s a total pushover when it comes to you. It’s almost disgusting, the way he gushes. Just ask him for his credit card.”

“I don’t want to keep using his money.” I was speaking faster now as urgency raced through me. How could I not have come to Maria about this sooner? Surely, she’d understand. “He says Mu’s money is tied up, and I am poor.”

“Well, it is tied up.” Maria’s frown deepened and her voice was cautious as she slowly replied. “Have you just… If it bothers you, ask Titus for money. He’s loaded too. He wants to buy you stuff.”

“I will not!” I’d been a freeloader long enough—and every dollar spent on me without repayment was a black mark against my soul. There were so many things on my private wish list, and Damen refused to even let me do a single chore. If he’d cooperated, I might have been able to strike a bargain, but alas.

I had no way to earn all the things I wanted, and I would be the one to gift myself the newest Vogue collection, and the Hello Kitty autumn releases. Everything I needed was slipping through my desperate fingers.

“If you’re so poor, how did you afford those Jimmy Choo’s?” she wondered out loud. “They look good, by the way. Where were they when we first met?”

“It doesn’t matter!” I slapped my hand on the table. Never would I admit to her that these two hands once scrubbed Finn’s ink-stained blazers. It’d taken a while for my stash to become refilled. But thankfully, various prized items from my adoptive parents randomly appeared in my room one day. “Do you want to beat up things or not?”

“What are we beating up?” The doubt in her eyes cleared, replaced by an almost terrifying gleam. “I’m down for whatever.”