I changed the chapter name

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Martini

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Chapter 18: Martini (Amara's POV)

This was unusual. Four days of absolutely nothing, of utter silence and peace from Tristan Harper. The last time I saw Tristan, he was leaving my apartment with my blood staining his clothes and it seemed like after that, he went radio silent. 

I spent the past four days resuming work and focused mostly on the Ambrose and the twenty-year-old Ricci family case. Both cases were extremely vexing. I almost regretted taking upon Mr. Ambrose's case. No matter how much time I invested into it, no matter how many leads I followed, and how many men I tracked, our rival, Clark Walker was a man of mystery, it seemed. 

To put it simply, he had gone underground and hence could not be tracked or located. With him gone, my plans of negotiating to settle were spiraling down the drain and with Ambrose growing impatient, it wouldn't take long for him to snap at me. 

The Ricci case was proving to have a similar fate. 

Maybe reopening the case after so long is futile after all. I can't find any leads or resources, not even a person of interest to meet and question. 

My last resort would be to ask my father but for now, I was truly keeping that as the last resort. I wasn't giving up on them, on that case just yet. I couldn't. 

My eyes drifted to my ringing phone as I sat at my kitchen counter, staring at the old Italian newspaper articles dating back twenty years. Whether it be the article for Il Testimone or L'Alleanza, both Italian newspapers published the same story and both articles revealed no clues. 

A defeated sigh escaped me as I grabbed my phone and answered Ambrose's call. "Mr. Ambrose," I greeted, spinning the barstool and getting off, scooping Donna off the counter and carrying her in my arms to the couch. 

"Amara," he replied, "I hope to see you tonight. I believe I sent you the official invitation yet you did not confirm." 

I glanced at the invitation for his party as it sat on my coffee table, becoming my new favorite coaster. "I'm your attorney, Mr. Ambrose. Even though you're going against my word and hosting this party..." I rolled my eyes. "I'll be there." 

It was a stupid idea to host a party with a big old red bullseye painted onto your back and your enemy out on the loose but arguing with Ambrose was like talking to a brick wall. Pointless. 

"Good," he said sternly, "since you're attending, we'll talk business there. I hope to see you in a few hours then, dear." 

"Goodbye, Mr. Ambrose," I responded before hanging up and tossing the phone beside me. Sighing loudly, I held Donna up in outstretched arms above my face. "Should I just stay home with you tonight, Donatella?" 

She remained still in my arms, the sheen in her icy blue eyes brightening as she meowed. With a few quick kisses at the top of her head, I set her down and went up to my room, getting ready for the night. 

Deciding it would be best to arrive fashionably late and leave disrespectfully early, I took my time getting ready. My movements slowed a bit until I dropped my hands in my lap, staring at the jewelry box in front of me and the small women's signet ring that sat in it. 

Slipping it over my middle finger, I traced the 'J' engraved onto the surface in cursive, staring at it for a beat. A faint sigh escaped me before I cleared my throat and closed the jewelry box, rising to my feet. 

Stepping back, I eyed my dress in the mirror and ran my palms down the sides, feeling the smooth cream-colored satin beneath my touch as it flowed down to my ankles. The dress hugged me in all the right places with two thick straps of big white pearls holding the dress at my shoulders, leaving my back bare and exposed with a backless cut. 

With the leg sheath and gambler's dagger strapped to my thigh being hidden, I looked and felt just as elegant as I was supposed to. 

By the time I arrived at the party, it was in full swing yet still met the same fate as every other party in New York's upper east side since this too was all business. Instead of finding Mr. Ambrose in the crowd, I decided to see how long I could stay hidden. 

With my father here, it turns out, not too long. "Are you hiding?" he asked knowingly, standing beside me at the bar. 

"You know me so well," I mused, linking my arm with his. 

"Tu sei mia figlia. Certo che lo faccio," he mumbled, patting my hand where it rested on his arm. 'You are my daughter. Of course, I do.' 

Spinning us around, we faced the bar. "What drink can I get my daughter tonight?" he asked, lifting his brows at me. 

"One vodka martini," I replied with a small smile. 

"Shaken not stirred for my little James Bond?" he teased, fixing a stray hair on my head as it slipped out of the bun my hair was pulled back into. 

"No," I laughed. 

He faced the bartender. "You heard the lady." 

I slowly withdrew my arm from his. "Don't let me keep you, Dad. Your friends are searching for you." 

He glanced around in confusion until I pointed them out in the crowd. "Enjoy, cara mia," he smiled, patting my back lightly before walking away. 

"Thank you," I said, taking my drink from the bartender. 

"Have you always been such a Daddy's little girl? Since you were younger?" Cal questioned, appearing beside me with his own empty glass in hand which he came to refill. 

I paused and turned to him. "Not much of a choice when I only have one parent, is it?" 

He grew stiff as he cleared his throat and glanced at me. "That's not what I meant. I'm sorry." 

I let out a small chuckle, "It's okay. What's wrong? No date tonight?" 

"I'll find her," he replied, leaning against the counter as he searched the crowd. Picking up a newly filled glass, he nodded forward. "Found her." 

My gaze followed his as he spotted Aurora in the crowd. "Cal," I warned. 

"Amara," he mocked, shooting me a quick wink as he sipped his drink and then strutted off. I scoffed lightly under my breath and shook my head in response, turning to face the bar. 

Moments later, I felt those eyes on me before I found him. I felt that shiver run down my spine. I felt him far before I heard him. 

"I hope you won't taint me in your blood tonight, Malyshka," he said, his voice low with a little more than its usual rasp. 

I could feel his lips brush against my ear and I couldn't help the way my breath caught. Every inch of my body was suddenly ablaze and every part of it was alive and awake. There wasn't a single part of me that wasn't aware of his presence or the effect it was proving to have on me. But every part of me was adamant to ignore it and deny it. 

Spinning around and lifting my eyes, they met Tristan's where he stood mere inches away from me. My gaze followed him as he moved to stand beside me and beckoned the bartender over. 

"A glass of Jack Daniel's," he ordered. His eyes drifted to mine, knowing that I was watching him. "You seem almost surprised to see me." 

I paused, collecting my thoughts. 

How can a mere moment throw me off so quickly? 

"I thought I got rid of you. It's been a while, hasn't it?" I replied. 

"That easily?" He arched a brow at me before shaking his head once. "Don't you know me at all?" 

I scanned the room for Ambrose. "Did you invite yourself tonight? I find it hard to believe that Nicholas Ambrose invited his ex-attorney. Even harder to believe that you showed up for a good reason." I took a sip of my drink. "If I remember correctly, you were furious when he fired you," I said, a little smirk hiding behind my glass as I sipped from it. 

"Ambrose is a difficult client, Ms. Milano. I'm sure you're not exactly pleased that he hired you. Then again," he paused to scan my face, his eyes lingering on my cheek and the small, healed scar, "I hope your wounds were worth it." 

I glanced at his attire briefly, taking in the navy blue, almost black, suit he wore. "Where have you been?" I questioned. 

"Miss me?" he smirked. 

I scoffed in disbelief. "I don't think that question holds even a hint of longing in it, Mr. Harper. Since you're trying to kill me, I prefer to know your whereabouts." 

He watched me for a moment. "You don't seem to believe me when I tell you I'm a man of my word, Ms. Milano. I agreed to wait for the perfect time, didn't I? Don't worry, Amara darling, I won't kill you without warning." 

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I glared at him while facing him. I couldn't help but ground my teeth as I grabbed the collar of his suit and tugged forward lightly until we were barely inches apart. 

His eyes dropped down to my hand as I lifted it up and took his chin between my fingers, pushing him to look away as I whispered in his ear, "Respectfully, Mr. Harper, go fuck yourself." Flashing him a sweet smile, I patted his chest once and moved to leave only for Tristan to latch onto my hand and tug me back into place. 

"Your drink, Ms. Milano," he said, holding it out for me. 

I eyed his suit once more, contemplating whether I should tip the glass over and spill the entirety of its contents on him. After all, I developed a habit of doing that. Unfortunately, it seemed like he read my mind. 

He let out a dry, cold chuckle. "Not again, Malyshka. You've already spilled several martinis on me. This suit is Tom Ford. You've developed a habit of tainting all my clothes, haven't you?" His thumb lightly brushed over the ring on my finger as he glanced at it before I could tear my hand out of his grasp. 

"Careful, Mr. Harper," I warned, "or you'll be going back in your Tom Ford suit covered in your own blood tonight."

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Chapter 18

Take this chapter as a bit of a filler. My exams started today but I just wanted to get a chapter out so I saved the good stuff for the next chapter lol

also, I'm going to start adding the links to the outfits (mainly her outfits) in the comments right at the beginning of the chapters, so anyone who wants to check them out, can use those :))

next ch: touch