Chapter 9
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 "How was your night last night?" Gryffin asked the next morning, pouring me a cup of tea.

 "It went well," I shrugged, stirring the sugar. "How about you? What did you do?"

 "Eh," he shrugged. "Watched some Netflix. Talked to Vin. The usual."

 "What did he say?" I got a butter knife from the cup we kept our metal utensils in. "Is he doing okay?"

 "Well, Mom apparently cut his YouTube time," Gryffin snickered. "So, he's pretty upset about that. I don't blame her, though."

 "Neither do I," I agreed. "He needs to focus more on his homework instead of his YouTube videos. He's in middle school. It's only going to get harder after."

 "If only Vin could understand that," Gryffin sighed. "But you know how he is. Being the youngest made him spoiled."

 "Like Mom didn't spoil you," I scoffed, handing him a jar of jam. "Can you put the jam on the croissant? I'll do the butter?"

 "Sure." He easily pulled the lid from the usually tight jar. "What did you and Kathryn do at the club yesterday?"

 I raised my eyebrow. "What everyone does at a club?"

 "Like?"

 "Drink? Dance?" I got two plastic plates from the cupboard, having to stand on my toes to reach them. "Why? Does that bother you?"

"If it did, I would have told you to stay home yesterday," Gryffin sneered. "No, it doesn't bother me. You're an adult, Adrienne. I can't dictate what you can or can't do."

 "Technically, you can," I pointed out. "You're still my older brother."

 "By only two years," Gryffin jeered, bumping my hip with his. "What club did you go to? Was it the one on the eleventh ave?"

 "No..." I thought for a moment. "I think it was on the seventh street. You know—by Betty's Grocery Store?"

 "You mean Callisto's Club?" Gryffin asked.

 "Yeah, I think that was it." I helped him carry our breakfast to the kitchen table. "Why?"

 "I think it's owned by Lazareth Noir," he mused, wiping his hands on the damp towel hanging beside the oven. "Every branch he owns is named after some Greek legend. Callisto was one of the muses."

 "That makes sense," I chuckled. "There is music at a club, anyway."

 Gryffin took a bite out of his croissant, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "Was he there?"

 "Who?"

 "Noir."

 "Yes...it's his bar." I licked the dribbling, warm butter from my lips. "Why? Did you want me to get his autograph or something?"

 Gryffin scoffed, scratching down his bare, muscled chest. "No. Why does everything I ask you have to sound suspicious to you? I was only curious."

 "Your curiosity frightens me," I teased, changing my voice in an attempt to sound poetic.

 Making retching sounds in the back of his throat, Gryffin pushed my head gently as he walked past me. It was the weekend, which meant that the newspaper had been delivered. But it wasn't the news that Gryffin looked forward to—it was the crossword puzzles.  

 I spun around on my stool, reminiscing about last night. Now that I think about it, maybe that one drink I had taken from Kath had made me so bubbly with Lazareth. God, I hope I didn't embarrass myself in front of him.  All I remember from the night before was dancing...the music loud...his hands on me...holding me...like a hero...or maybe a dark knight?

 "Holy shit!" I heard Gryffin exclaim from the door. Smirking, I stirred my tea, waiting for him to come into the kitchen so that I could tease him. 

 "What is it?" I asked, giggling as he walked into the room. He was as stiff as a board, his eyes blank and seemingly glued to the paper. His hands were clenched into fists—clenching and unclenching. 

 "What? Cat got your tongue?" I continued, unaware that he wasn't laughing with me. Silently, almost motionlessly, he dropped the paper in front of me. 

 "Read it," he ordered bluntly, sounding just like Lazareth did days ago in the coffee shop. He crossed his bulky arms over his chest. He was really serious, wasn't he?

 "Okay...?" Carefully, I picked the bunch of papers up, reading through the page that Gryffin had opened up for me. 

 Quicker than a hockey puck slides into the goal, I felt my heart freeze into ice, then thaw and thrum exceedingly fast in my chest. I shook my head, re-reading the paragraphs just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating anything, but unfortunately, in bold, block letters, my nightmare had just been printed into reality. 

 LAZARETH NOIR SPOTTED GETTING CLOSE WITH CLUB GIRL. POTENTIAL GIRLFRIEND?

"You said you were drinking and dancing," Gryffin spat, glowering at me, his eyes ablaze.

 My chest felt heavy and my breathing was shaky. "I-I was...well...I danced with Lazareth..."

 "Adrienne!" Gryffin snatched the paper from my glaring angrily. "God, for a girl with a GPA of 3.5, why can't you be as smart as you are in the classroom?"

 "What's your problem?" I snapped, rising from my chair. "So, I danced with him. Big deal?"

 "Big deal?!" Gryffin repeated. "What's the big deal?" He laughed cynically, throwing his head back and tossing the paper behind him. "The deal is, Adrienne, that you are now in the eye of the media. They won't let you sneeze without snapping a photo and pasting that onto the front page."

 "I'll talk to Lazareth about it, okay?" I scowled, practically tossing my plate into the sink. I wiped my hands on the dishtowel. "I'm sure he'll be able to do something."

 "Oh, for fuck's sake!" Gryffin groaned. "Yes, ask Lazareth. How about you go fuck him for some money too."

 "What?!" Anger burst in my chest, streaming around my body like a volcano. "What the hell do you mean? I'm not some slut, Gryffin, and you know that!"

 "Not yet, you aren't," Gryffin growled. "I don't trust him, Adri. He doesn't give a very cuddly vibe if that's what you hoped I was going to say about him. He's dangerous. He's a billionaire. They'll do anything to get what they want, and they can get anything they want. What if he's just using you?"

 "He wouldn't do that," I sniffed, crossing my arms. "Lazareth is different. He's not like the other billionaires."

 Gryffin shook his head like I was a lost clause, running a weary hand through his hair. "That's what they all say, Adrienne. That's what they all say."

~*****~

 "Will you be able to fix this?" I pleaded over the phone, gripping the device so tightly I thought it would be glued to my hand.

 "Can you tell me what happened, exactly?" Lazareth asked, hissing at someone who had previously been speaking to stay quiet.

 I frowned. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

 "You? Of course, not. What you have to say is more important to me than what they want," Lazareth purred, but it didn't go past me the poison that was on his tongue when he spoke of what I assumed to be his employee.

 "Oh...okay, then, I guess." I sighed. "Remember yesterday, when we danced in the club together?"

 "Yes."

 "And do you remember the flash that went off in my face? The one that you told me was just the light of somebody else's phone?"

 "Yes—I'm busy right now! Whatever you have to tell me, you can wait," Lazareth snapped, breaking off from whatever he was saying to me. He cleared his throat. "What about the flash, Adrienne?"

 I gulped, unaware if I was worried that he was angry at me, or at his employees. "Well, as it turned out—!" I paused to write my name on the sign-in clipboard. "It was the flash of a news reporter. We were featured on the front page today."

 "We were what?!" Lazareth was livid. I had to pull my phone away from my ear at his outburst, attracting many unwanted, unfocused eyes. I flushed, ducking my head as I walked to my seat. 

 "We were featured..." I repeated hesitantly.

 "Lazareth Noir dancing with a new girl. Possible girlfriend?" I heard Lazareth repeat with an audible groan. Something smacked against the wall from the other end of the call, and either it was the newspaper or his computer. I couldn't tell. 

 "When did this happen!" Lazareth practically roared. The speaker of his side of the phone was muffled, so I could only assume that he was speaking to his employees.

 "W-We don't know...sir..." a timid sounding woman replied, albeit waiting a few moments before doing so.

 Lazareth was silent for a few moments, but when he spoke, the venom on his tongue was so thick it made me squirm in my seat. 

 "If you value your jobs, then you'd better get your asses into gear and fix it," he growled. "I don't care what it takes—just make sure that the article is taken down. Do you understand me?"

 I couldn't hear his team's reply, but soon, Lazareth's warm, reassuring voice was back, speaking to me in a completely opposite way as compared to how he spoke to his workers. 

 "I'll get this fixed, Adrienne. Don't worry about anything," he assured, sounding like the calm, collected billionaire I knew he was...or, I thought I knew he was. 

 "O-Okay," I responded, unable to hide the short tremor in my voice. A woman appeared from the doorway at that exact moment, calling my name into the room full of people. "I have to go, Lazareth. I'll talk to you later, I guess?"

 "Yes, I'll call you later," he affirmed. "Don't worry about this, okay? I'll get this resolved."

 "Thank you."

 I cut the call. My hand wouldn't stop shaking as I put my phone away and got up to follow the nurse. Inside, my bag glowed with the light coming from the devil logo. 

 Once again, I had witnessed the Lazareth Noir both Kath and Gryffin warned me about. The cold, shrewd, even cruel sounding billionaire who got what he wanted, exactly how he wanted it, and when he wanted it. 

"Good morning, Adrienne," my therapist, Julia, welcomed, shaking my hand before gesturing to the seat across from her.

 "Hi," I murmured quietly, sitting down like I was ordered to. Julia plopped into her rolling office chair, pulling up my files on her computer.

 "How are we doing today, sweetie?" She asked, smiling somewhat sympathetically at me. "I saw your picture in the paper today. How are you feeling about that?"

Right to the point, I thought with a cruel snicker. "I'm...doing okay. A bit panicked, but okay, I guess."

 "Four square breathing, remember," Julia instructed. "Did you do the exercise I told you to do when you get anxious?"

 "I-It happened so quickly...I didn't get much time to do anything..." I mumbled, still reeling from Lazareth's call. Julia reached over the table and squeezed my hand.

 "Lazareth Noir is known for having his face in the paper constantly, Adrienne," she said warmly. "You aren't. It's perfectly okay to be shaken up about it."

 If only she knew... I thought. "Yeah, I guess he is. I...I wasn't really thinking straight last night..."

 "Do you know him? He didn't force himself onto you, did he?" Julia asked, frowning. "That doesn't seem like Mr. Noir."

 "How do you know?"

 "I don't. But from what I've seen, and heard, he sounds to be a very polite, if not, firm young man."

Yeah, totally firm. Definitely not harsh...well, maybe his body is firm...stop it, Adrienne!

I blinked, clearing my throat. "Um...yeah. No, he didn't force himself onto me. I agreed to dance with him...I met him before."

 "So, you're acquaintances?" Julia hummed, typing on her computer. "Where did you meet him before?"

 "I interviewed him for my school," I mumbled. 

 "Were you anxious around him at that time?"

 "No. I—I was never anxious about him," I lied, not really feeling like talking in-depth about my feelings for Lazareth, despite that being her job. "Sure, he seemed kind of...eccentric? But he was polite, if not, kind to me." He's always kind to me. Just with me. 

 "Well, that's good," Julia nodded. "Let's see—oh! The article and the pictures are gone from the website!"

 "Really?"

 She turned her computer monitor so I could see the page she was on. Sure enough, everything that had been in the physical paper this morning was gone, replaced by an article about the latest cooking show.

 Lazareth... I thought, smiling a small, hidden smile. How he had managed to take it down so quickly, I had no idea, but the anxiety that had once suffocated my heart dissipated immediately. A cool feeling flooded my veins. God, Lazareth, why do you keep confusing me? Why are my feelings for you so difficult to understand?

What are my feelings for you?

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