A big fight

“If he were really yours you would be more careful,” Ariel yelled.

Kan stared at her in disbelief. 

He always wondered whether this day would come. Where she would claim Oliver for herself and remind him that he was not truly his father.

He wondered, but he had not thought it would happen. Not Ariel. 

And so soon? 

“Are you implying I do not care for him?”

“You have nothing to lose.” She stared at him with misty eyes. “You, Blaine, and your families. You will all go on with your 50/50 war,” she said, 

“But me?” She poked her chest with her index finger, “I am the one who would be losing it all and may never be the same.”

Kan stood still, staring at her, torn between pulling her to himself in a hug or shaking her up and asking her what she had done with that man in the elevator. 

But he did not have enough time to deliberate because she turned around, dug her phone out of her purse and was soon casting it on the television.

His jaw was working as he saw a rebroadcast of the news of Tucker's attempted murder. 

He said nothing as the woman, almost fifteen inches shorter than he was and less than half his size, turned accusing eyes at him.

“Did you do this?” She asked, her face red and tear-stained. “Did you do this when you knew a child would be in that car?”

“No.”

“No, you didn’t do it, or no, you did not know a child would be in that car?” She was squinting at him in fury, and he began to feel ugly things. 

He saved her.

He saved her and gave her the importance she thought she had. 

She would have died!

But looking at her now, he still could not hate her, not when he was staring at those eyes and already wishing they were smiling at him the way they usually did.

“No. I did not do it,” he said with a tone of finality.

A dark smile stretched her lips, and she walked close to stare up at him.

“This will be the last time you lie to me, Kan.”

“Kan saw us,” Ophelia said as she walked onto the terrace of Draco’s house. 

She had spent the day trying to find someone vulnerable to bribe at the only media house she knew would dare to publish the video if Kan went through with his threat and sent it to them.

Draco was half sitting, stretched out on a pool chair. 

She frowned, why was he never really inside his house?

She understood this rooftop terrace was beautiful, but it was not beautiful enough for her to risk her identity being exposed.

Private estate or not, they were still in Tokyo with their restless paparazzi. What if someone was with binoculars in one of these houses around, or worse with a sharp lense camera?

Draco chuckled and stood up. 

His lopsided smile was arrogant but stunning as he walked up to her. 

The only clothing on him was a black set of swimming trunks, and it seemed he had just gotten out of that pool.

There were still rivulets of water running down his hard chest, and his swimming trunk was wet and clinging to his body.

Ophelia looked away quickly, but Draco was already standing in front of her and gripping her chin.

“Don’t you think it’s about time anyway?” He stared into her eyes.

“Is that all you can say?” She asked angrily. “Do you know who Kan Sullivan is?”

“I don’t care.” Draco shrugged, and moved even closer to her, till he was pressing himself against her hip bone. “Don’t like him? I'll kill him.”

“Kill, kill and f*cking kill.” She wrested her chin out of his grip and stepped back. “This is not Sicily. Everything cannot be solved by violence.”

“I miss you. You are so hot when you spit flames like this.” He was smiling at her, amused.

“Can you even hear anything I am saying?” She shook her head in disbelief.

“No. I see those lips though.” His gaze was fixed now as one corner of his bottom lip disappeared between his teeth.

Ophelia turned around, and began to hurry away. 

This was useless. Men were useless. Why the hell had she come here after what he did in that parking lot?

Why had she even thought he would fix it? He caused this mess, he would only make things worse.

“Where do you think you are going?” She felt his hand around her arm, and it felt like a vice had grabbed her. 

She could not take even one step further.

She spun around, “Don’t think you can have a repeat of what you did earlier.” 

She had barely finished her words when his lips covered hers. She tried to step back, but his hand moved swiftly from her arm to wrap around her midsection, while his other hand gripped her jaw and held her in place.

Struggling was useless, and he expertly did not give her a pause or opportunity to use her teeth. 

His lips flattened hers, and he made her tongue dance only to the tune he played.

She soon stopped struggling as she began to feel the familiar heat rise up from her ankles, and also go down her shoulders, till they met in the middle, and she had to bring her legs together, an attempt to put out the flame that had caught there.

Draco had his knee parting those legs in a second, his thigh keeping them apart, and she groaned as she began to kiss him back.

He pulled his face away and let her chin go, “What did you say about not repeating what happened earlier?”

“You’re an animal.” She said, her face bloated and red.

She tried to struggle out of his other arm still wrapped around her waist, pinning her to himself, but he would not let her go.