Chapter 5

AURIELLE

Of all the people, of all the streets, of all the cars in this entire city, it had to be this one?

Like a total idiot, I gawked at the person standing in front of me, the guy from the website. My face was so hot that I was surprised it didn't set off a fire alarm.

"I'm not dealing with this." I turned and walked in the opposite direction.

"Hey, wait!" His voice carried easily across the street. I walked even faster.

"I said wait." I heard footsteps behind me, unhurried but gaining fast. "Where are you even going?"

"Away from you, can't you tell?" I threw over my shoulder. "Goodbye mister."

"You look like you had a rough day,"

Those words forced me to a halt. I turned around slowly. He was closer than I expected, hands in his pockets and watching me.

"Excuse me?" I whispered savagely.

"No, that came out wrong." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I mean you look distraught, are you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I informed him, but my voice had cracked right in the middle of the sentence.

He wasn't buying my show of nonchalance. "Get in the car." He ordered.

"I'm not getting in your car."

"You were just standing in the middle of traffic," he noted.

"I was crossing the road!"

"You were standing still in the middle of the road, and screaming at me."

With a furious glare, I replied. "I was making a point because you almost ran me over."

"Mhmmm." He jerked his head toward the passenger door. "Get in the car."

How could I say no to that voice? I got in the car.

It was a very nice car. That was the first thing I noticed. I stared out the window and told myself I wasn't going to cry, but I cried, thinking about the divorce papers I had just signed.

Thankfully, he didn't ask me about it. He just handed me a bottle of water, and a handkerchief from the center console. An actual cloth handkerchief, which was such an absurdly old-fashioned thing to hold that I almost laughed.

Before I knew it, I was talking to him. "I got served divorce papers this morning."

"Oh." He murmured. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"What is there to say?" I chucked sadly, looking out the window. "My fiancé had always been a serial cheater, I always knew deep in my heart. I just didn't want to confront it. He is a lying, two-timing backstabber. Now, he has left me for his ex, and guess what? He has taken my company as well, a business I worked my ass out to run."

He listened without interrupting.

When I finally ran out of words, I felt wrung out and slightly embarrassed. I was grateful for the forward motion of the car so I didn't have to look directly at him.

"How long were you married?" he asked.

"Four years." I wiped my face. "Four years, and can you believe he looked me dead in the eye and said I disgust him? And my company..."

He didn't say anything to that. Which was honestly the right call.

I stared at the dashboard, then at the interior of the door, his hands on the steering wheel and then at the general situation of the car itself, which was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

"This is a very expensive car," I commented.

He glanced at me. "Is it?"

I narrowed my eyes. "You know it is, the seats alone probably cost ten grand."

I hesitated. "Where does your money come from exactly?"

He said nothing, but there was a smile of mischief on his face.

I felt my face warm slightly. "I'm not... I mean, I know you have a whole..." I gestured vaguely. "A whole profession. And that's completely fine, I'm not judging, I was literally a client. Your client—"

I stopped before I could say more embarrassing things. "Is that how you can afford a car like this? The, um..." I cleared my throat. "Through your job?"

He turned to look at me fully, amusement open on his face now. "My job?"

"You know what I mean."

He laughed, and the sound was oddly pleasant. "Not exactly, no."

I frowned. "Then how? Only people with serious money drive cars like this. Like, CEOs and heirs, people with influential surnames."

From the corner of my eye, I saw him turn to look at me.

"Let me introduce myself properly," he told me, and there was a formal tone in his voice, below the amusement. "My name is Dominic Frost.”

I turned to face him properly. He was already pulling to a stop at a red light.

"Hold up," I whispered as the name Frost started to come to me.

Frost... Why in the world did that name sound familiar? I must have come across it recently, though for the life of me, I couldn't figure out where exactly.

“I am a business tycoon and heir to Frost Companies and Frost Warehouses.”

I gasped in horror. "Oh, my God! You are a frost?"

"From what I have been told," he smiled.

"And I threw cash at you, and called you names,”

"Several times, actually, you were very thorough. I guess I deserved it." He laughed again.

“I must have mistaken you for someone else, I am so sorry,”

I pressed my fingers to my forehead and closed my eyes for a few seconds. When I opened them he was still watching me with that same unhurried attention.

“I figured,” he responded with a chuckle. "So what happens now?" He asked, mostly to the windshield.

Dominic Frost shifted forward in his seat and stared at me with a sudden intensity in his eyes. I couldn't look back.

“I will have to skip town, then look for a job or something.”

"Well, I might have a better idea. The way I see it, you have two options. Either you wallow in self pity and give up." He paused, and I caught myself holding my breath.

"Or you can work for me, and get your revenge."