Alina stood in the parking lot as the heavy downpour of rain splattered on the ground. Luckily, she was encased in a coat. The coat was given to her by Damian Thorn, one of the wealthiest and most notoriously ruthless men in LA. Thirty minutes ago, Lucas had dropped her here so that she could pick up her younger brother. Another thirty minutes and they would be going home.
A black Bentley, looking like polished granite, pulled into the parking lot. Alina scurried away from the vehicle to stand near the entrance. In a few minutes, there wouldn't be any space to hide, and she silently prayed that the rain would cease by then.
Footsteps reached her ears, and Alina quietly turned to see a man walking towards her. He was completely clad in black, and his blond hair stood out against the monochrome scene. Alina looked away and placed her gaze on the white painted building before her—the kindergarten area.
"It's quite a downpour today, isn't it? Even the forecast didn't notice the sudden change in the weather," the man said to no one In particular. His voice was smooth and sweet like honey, unlike most rough voices she had heard.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Alina clumsily looked at the man who was now standing beside her. His cologne was heavy, expensive—a scent of sharp intrusion. "Ahh, yes, right." She replied and turned back to stare at the building, impatiently waiting for the school to end for the day.
The man's eyes swept over Alina, openly assessing her. Her black hair was tied in a simple pigtail, and her figure wasn't short or tall, just the perfect fit. "I haven't seen you around here, Miss," he probed.
Alina shifted on her feet at the man's words. He was deliberately pushing her boundaries. She was not interested in entertaining another man with that predatory glint in his eyes. For some reasons unknown to her, she was comfortable around Damian, despite his haughty attitude and the dangerous aura that clung to him.
"I have a brother in middle school. He usually uses the school bus," but unfortunately, she couldn't pay the fee, she wanted to say. Alina was left with no choice but to come and pick him up herself. Unnecessary talks weren't her thing, so she kept a stoic face.
"Ohhh? That's unexpected," he replied and tucked his hand inside his trouser pocket.
Alina clenched her teeth and fidgeted with her worn-out purse. She was getting genuinely uncomfortable. "Who are you, by the way?" She replied in a low voice without looking at the man. If he was smart, he would know that she wasn't interested in this conversation. In fact, she wanted it to end immediately.
Noticing her body language was closed to his advances, the man crowded her, closing the gap of safety until his shadow consumed her. He came to stand directly in her front with a smile perched on his lips. "I'm Philip. Philip Hoffman, nice to make your acquaintance," he replied and flashed his perfect set of white teeth.
Alina then raised her head to look at him clearly. He was quite the charmer. "Nice to meet you too," she replied and looked away from him.
She reluctantly stepped away from him and came to stand closer to the entrance of the lot.
"Can I have your cell number?" He asked.
"No," Alina replied as all traces of her patience disappeared into thin air. What was his problem? If that idiot had put a ring on her finger, she wouldn't have had to entertain men like Philip.
Slightly taken aback, Philip's amusement grew. In LA, people usually fawn when they see him. Being one of the bigwigs in the country, he was used to people gushing at him or trying to win his favor. But this lady refused to give him her cell phone number. Then he thought about something he noticed. Her coat.
The coat was a limited design and made by a top leading designer company in LA. Even he had fought tooth and nail for the coat but ended up not getting it. Last time he checked, only three of them were made. The president's wife got one, Tony Hamilton—CEO of a stock company got one. As for the third person, it was anonymous. No one knew who later got it. Seeing one of those coats on this lady made him wonder who she really is.
From her casual hairstyle to her worn-out purse and shoes, he could tell she was a pauper. "You haven't told me your name, miss," he pressed on.
"Alina," she replied and impatiently checked the time. Fifteen more minutes and she's outta here.
"Alina it is. I'm quite surprised, you know. I can tell you are not the spendthrift type. Let me guess. You were not able to pay for your brother's bus fee which had skyrocketed from ten to thirty dollars, so you're picking him up by yourself," he said proudly.
Alina's eyes sharpened at his words. Campbell Academy is a prestigious school for the middle-class people and quite a few wealthy ones. Although it's not the very best, it has a worldwide reputation for having one of the best students in the country, and this has facilitated some rich people to bring their kids here.
"What does that have to do with you?" She questioned.
Philip smirked and spread out his arms. He was a man so full of himself. He would do anything to get her number even if it means going over his boundaries. "That coat you're wearing was a limited edition. Only the elite could afford that. In fact, only a few among the elite could purchase THAT coat."
"So?" Alina interrupted in a disinterested manner. It wasn't as if she begged Damian to give her the coat. But then again, he did that for her. A faint, almost involuntary smile graced her lips. She was probably wearing a coat the amount used in purchasing would be enough to feed her family for a year, along with other expenses.
"A poor girl like you cannot afford it. Even if you sleep your way with many men, you won't be able to get it. Perhaps you stole it," he replied with shining eyes as if he had caught Alina stealing the coat.
Alina's frown deepened at his words. Did he just call her a thief? "I didn't steal this coat. It belongs to m—" my husband, she wanted to say.
"You're lying, Alina. The designer had labelled the third person anonymous. Perhaps it was stolen and they couldn't trace it. Or maybe someone in the elite class got it for you. But that leaves me with a question. Why give you a coat worth thousands of dollars instead of them to change your wardrobe?" He added in mockery. Smiling so widely as though he was satisfied with his doings. He pushed his blond hair away from his face and stood so close to Alina.
"I won't spill your secrets if you give me your number, I promise," he replied. "Don't worry, I would go easy on you unlike those old urchins who spread your legs," he stated. If she refuses, it would take only a tweet for netizens to drag her reputation in the mud.
Seeing a fringe that had come off loose in her hair, Phillip was about to touch it when a vibration of pure, lethal power sliced through the heavy rain. The air itself went colder.
"Take your filthy hand off her, or I will remove it for you," a low, masculine voice, thick with coiled, lethal intent, echoed in the parking lot.
Philip quickly stepped back as he felt the hair on his skin standing as if a ball of fear had descended on him.
Alina quickly left his side, and the smirk on his face faded away. Who was that? He thought without looking at the newcomer.
"Damian," she breathed, the slight annoyance in her tone quickly overlaid with a familiar, dangerous thrill. "What are you doing here? I thought you had something to take care of."
Damian was quiet as he stared at her. Unlike their previous meets, some color has returned to her face, making her look vividly alive. "It was faster than I expected, so I came here instead," he replied like an obedient child.
Alina crossed her hands over her chest. "You should have gone back to work," she pouted. She wasn't a kid anymore that needed help from him.
"Boss is done for the day," Lucas replied from where he was standing beside Damian's car. She hadn't noticed when they had driven in.
"Then you should have taken him home," she refused to back out.
Damian smiled. "Are you scolding me, darling wife?" He asked, his voice dropping to a seductive, challenging rumble that only she was meant to hear. Then his eyes fell on the blond man who was staring at them in disbelief.
"Alina," Damian called.
"Mhmm," she answered.
"Why don't we continue bickering at home? I have something to take care of right now," he suggested. If he hadn't come, this man would have touched Alina.
Philip remained rooted to the ground, and hot sweat rolled off his skin. What had he gotten himself into? He wanted to move, but his feet refused to obey his wishes. He instantly felt small when the man began walking towards him.
He should have known that such a limited edition couldn't be stolen. It was purchased by an elite of the elite. Conglomerate Head, Damian Thorn. World's most powerful tech and agriculture CEO. His heartbeats drummed in his ears as the man finally stood at his front. How did Alina end up as his wife without the public knowing?
"You were right. I gave her the coat," Damian began, his eyes dark with controlled fury. "Because she's my darling wife. Thank you for letting us know that her wardrobe needs to be changed." He added and turned away. "You should be thankful. My wife pleaded for you."
Philip sighed in relief. He just got on the bad side of Damian Thorn's book.
"That couldn't be said for what I would do to you for harassing my wife, Philip Hoffman. So why don't you get yourself ready?" Damian replied and looked over his shoulder with an evil smirk etched on his lips.