┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

Powerful

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Chapter 28: Powerful (Tristan's POV)

She stared at me in disbelief before tugging her hand out of my grasp. "You think you are at my mercy? Seriously? What more do you want, Tristan?" She stepped forward, her chest brushing against mine. "Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for my life?" 

"As much as that would be a sight to see, no," I sighed, staring down at her, allowing myself yet another chance while I had it to let my gaze travel across her face, taking in each of her features, my gaze lingering on her lips before coming back to her eyes. "I should have killed you when I had the chance," I said quietly. 

"Why didn't you? Don't say it was because I asked you not to, that's no reason. If you listened to me that easily, our relationship would be very different. You want me dead yet you keep saving me. Why? Why can't you stand the thought of me being in danger? And don't give me bullshit about how only you have the right to kill me. So tell me tonight, why?" 

I don't know, goddamn it. I don't understand it either. 

I craved her. I still craved her just as much if not more than the day she walked into my life, more than the day I first kissed her, and especially more than the day she walked out of it. I craved Amara, I've always craved her. Amara was an aphrodisiac, a drug I couldn't get enough of. 

It took years and every ounce of me to give her up the first time and I didn't have it in me to do that again. I had more self-control years ago than I could have fathomed and I used up all of it to keep myself away from her because she clearly wanted nothing to do with me. But I could only restrain myself so much longer. 

Fate kept putting us against each other and by agreeing to kill her, I only played myself. The worst part was that Amara had no idea; the lengths I'd go to for her if she'd let me. Hell, I hardly understood myself when it came to her. 

"It doesn't matter why," I told her, "the fact is, I choose what to do with you." 

She scoffed and lightly shook her head. "You can't play God, Tristan." 

"I am God in every scenario, Amara. I will always win." 

She stared at me for a beat and then took a precise step forward, coming within inches of me, and held my gaze without cowering. "Is this what it feels like then? To have a God at my mercy?" she asked, a light smile tugging at her lips. 

She inhaled sharply and her eyes dropped to the gun as I brought it up to her jaw suddenly. "Listen to me, Ms. Milano," I said, my voice low as I traced the revolver along the slope of her neck, down, and across her collarbone. Stepping forward, I steered her toward the wall and backed her up against it. 

"If you don't do as I say, especially tonight," I paused, tracing her jaw with the gun as I leaned into her, "you'll find out what it's like to be at a God's mercy." 

She stared at me blankly. "I think holding me at gunpoint should relay that message clearly on its own, don't you?" 

I tipped her chin up in warning. "Amara." 

"Is this what death looks like, Mr. Harper?" she asked, arching off the wall and inching closer. 

"You tell me, Malyshka," I replied, trailing the gun down her chest, stopping right at her cleavage as her breath hitched. "Does it always look so tempting?" I questioned, mostly to myself. 

She moved quickly and unsuspectingly to snatch the gun out of my hands but I beat her to it and lifted my free hand, swiftly wrapping it around her throat as I lifted the gun out of her reach. 

In the blink of an eye, my fingers tightened around her next and flexed in warning as I pushed her back into the wall, making her wince lightly as her head collided with it. She closed her eyes and let out a rough, frustrated breath, letting her hand drop to her side in defeat. 

"Almost quick enough," I smirked, tilting my head to one side as I stared at her. Trying to get out of my grip, she struggled for a minute until my patience reached its limit. "Ms. Milano," I said sternly, pulling her forward by the throat. "My patience is wearing thin tonight and I wouldn't suggest you test it further. Be a good girl—" 

She rolled her eyes in annoyance and my fingers flexed as a threat. 

"Be a good girl," I repeated, "and come with me." 

"On one condition," she bargained, "you will get me all the information from tonight's party that I'm missing out on because of you. Otherwise..." Tugging my hand off her throat, she came closer and grabbed my tie, pulling me in. "I will kill you." 

"Are you asking for my help with your case?" 

"No. This is you compensating," she retorted. Brushing past me, she headed toward the exit but stopped after a few steps and turned back to look at me. "Aren't you coming?" 

Tucking the revolver into my waistband and adjusting my suit over it, I made my way over. "Where to?" I fell into step beside her. 

She slowed down briefly and glanced inside once again but I snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her over so she was further away from the door and now on the other side of me. She shot me a pointed look but didn't comment on it. "Buy me dinner," she demanded instead, "I'm hungry." 

"Are you asking me?" 

"No," she said as we walked out and into the parking lot side by side. "I'm telling you." 

I bit back a light chuckle and trailed behind her. 

Fishing her keys out of her clutch, she threw them at me. "You drive." 

Glancing at my car, I left it behind and unlocked hers, both of us slipping into our seats. Amara remained quiet for the most part, staring out the window as a soft sigh escaped her. 

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. "What made you think it was a good idea to go to The Hunt without knowing anything about it?" I questioned. 

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Mr. Harper," she sighed. The nearest restaurant to us that would be open at that hour was Nova, so I headed there. 

"Don't let The Hunt get the better of you, Ms. Milano," I told her, "it's more than just a gentlemen's club." 

"How so? It offers more than private dances, private rooms, and games?" she snickered. 

"Half the people who walked into that room to play Russian Roulette are not going to walk out alive." 

She turned to look at me. 

"They all gamble on their lives," I added. 

"Why would someone do that?" she asked. 

"The same reason you did. For information, to get rid of their enemies in the name of a game, to win money." 

"And why were you there?" she pressed further. 

I kept my eyes on the road as my hand tightened on the wheel. "To watch someone die," I answered honestly. 

"I won't ask who," she said, turning to the window again. "So don't ask me any questions either." 

Within a few minutes, I parked in front of Nova and we headed inside where we were led to a table for two. The restaurant was mostly empty, save for a few couples dining together and a few men having meetings. We placed our orders soon after and then finally ran out of things to distract ourselves with and focused on each other instead. 

She leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table and holding her chin in the palm of her hand, staring at me, reading me. I leaned back in my seat and rested my hands on my thighs, watching her. 

"I'm tired of this game," she said after a minute. "Cat and mouse," she added with a light scoff. 

"What's wrong, Malyshka?" I asked, lifting a brow at her, "you don't like being the prey?" 

"But you like being a predator, hmm?" she mused, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. 

I took a sip of my drink instead of answering her question. My gaze lifted to hers as I began tracing the rim of my glass with a single finger after setting it back on the table and lightly tapping my ring against it. 

"It makes you feel powerful, doesn't it? To have this kind of control over me? Push me around like this?" She leaned in closer, resting her arm on the table between us. "Does it turn you on?" she whispered with a tiny smirk. 

I lifted a brow at her lightly and continued tracing the rim of my glass with a single finger. "It does," I replied honestly, "you tell me, Amara, does that make me powerful... or you?" 

We stared at each other for a beat until our waiter cut in and served both of us before walking away. 

"It turns you on to control me like this?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. 

"Does it seem like I have any control over you at all?" I questioned. "You do the opposite of everything I say." 

"Then perhaps that is what turns you on," she said, watching me intently. 

"Perhaps you turn me on," I told her. 

Her brows twitched up as she twirled the fork between her fingers, watching me. "Last time you went down this road, it left you with nothing," she reminded me. She was right. 

I had to kill her even though it killed me just the same. And I had to do it before I surrendered to her because, believe me, she could have me whenever she wanted me. But as I sat here in front of her, my head finally seemed to have caught up with my heart and told me that it was too late. 

I should have killed her when I had the chance, when I hated her enough to, when I was still capable of it. Because looking at her in front of me ignited something else within me. 

"Last time we went down this road, I spared you," I said, my leg brushing against hers beneath this table. "If you run away again, I will kill you, Amara." 

She set her glass down after taking a sip. "What do you want me to do, Tristan? Let you kill me?" 

I paused, observing her. "I want you to stay by my side," I said, "I want you to let me save you." 

Hesitantly, she asked, "Until you decide you want me dead?" 

"Until I admit that I don't," I reluctantly told her, "no matter how wrong that is, no matter how badly I should."

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 28

ITS ABOUT TO GET SO GOOD, BELIEVE ME

next ch: trust

BOY DO I LOVE ENEMIES TO LOVERS

I've never written them like these two lol