Shadows of Deception Ch. 04

Her touch lingered on his skin offering nothing but a pleasurable sensation with no further motives, a gesture meant to anchor their connection as she delved deeper into her assessment of Roman Aurelius.

"You want to be liked, you want to be loved, respected, and accepted. I can help you with that."

Roman raised an eyebrow, captivated by her words and the implications they carried. Belladonna skillfully wove a hypothetical scenario, illustrating a picture of the power that public perception held. Her fingers carded through his hair in a calculated, almost loving manner, further entwining him in her persuasive web.

"The tabloids aren't exactly kind. They called you a," she took her phone and checked her source, "Spoiled, temper tantrum-throwing, man child."

Roman sneered, all traces of amusement were gone and his eyes held contempt.

"But," She set her phone down and cozied up to him, cradling his head in her hands with a lover's touch, gently stroking his temple. "Everyone loves seeing a bad boy reformed. Least for a little while." Her touch remained tender, her fingers continuing to run through his hair, creating a sense of comfort and intimacy. "They just need to get to know the Roman Aurelius I know." She placed a soft kiss on his lips, "The one that visits me at work and tells me how beautiful I am, the one that brings me coffee because he knows how busy I get, the man who calls me his Angel more than my own name. I'm sure everyone would love to get to know that Roman Aurelius."

Roman, slightly taken aback by her composure, responded with a hint of caution, he had to admit he rather liked how she thought. The tabloids had long been a source of irritation for him.

"That's quite an agenda you have there, What makes you think you can make it happen?"

"I'm a fashion photographer, Roman. It's my job to make people look good" Her fingers grazed his scalp, gently tugging on the strands of his hair, eliciting a tremor of pleasure from him. "So, how about it, Roman? Do we have a deal?"

"You know, Angel, no one comes in here and strong-arms me into anything I don't want."

Belladonna leaned in closer, her touch lingering in his hair, her eyes meeting his. "I'm flattered that you think I'm capable of 'strong-arming' a man like you. I like to think of it more as a renegotiation of terms, terms that suit us both." Her confidence was unwavering.

"I don't think you understand the buttons you're pressing here, Belladonna." He couldn't help but be captivated by her, his gaze locked with hers. "I think we have a deal, though." Belladonna's grin widened as she met his gaze. Breathing a sigh of relief, she went to disentangle herself from him but found she couldn't. "How should we seal this new deal?" Roman asked, sounding like a spoiled child who didn't get his treat after he was good.

Before he could prompt her, she pressed her lips to his in a kiss filled with challenge and victory. Slow, sensual, and smoldering on his lips that left them tingling. It was the type of kiss he never gave a woman but he ate up when lavished upon him like Belladonna was doing. Roman was a spoiled tantrum-throwing brat, but that just made it easier to get under his skin. It was the roadmap for how to deal with him; give him what he wanted.

The soft warmth of her tongue licking at his lower lip as if pleading for him to let her taste him, he smirked against her lips and conceded. His lips parted eagerly, tasting espresso and the faint trace of cigarettes on her breath mixed with the citrus scent of her skin and hair. Each time he'd kissed her he'd been in control, but now he relinquished a little bit of that precious control to the woman in his lap, letting the woman in his lap enjoy it for a few minutes. She devoured him whole, sucking on his tongue and leaving marks on his lips as she pulled away, leaving him panting and desperate for more when she finally pulled away.

"Belladonna fucking Black," he murmured, his admiration evident, he hadn't expected to enjoy that as much as he did. He decided he wanted more.

However, his expectation for another passionate kiss was cut short when she slipped out of his lap and gracefully put her coat back on. It caught Roman off guard.

"Just where do you think you're going, Angel?"

With a hint of mischief, Belladonna gave him another loving kiss before delivering the news, "Sorry, baby, this Angel is flying home. She's had a very long day." Her lips brushed against his briefly, she whispered something she knew would rile him up or piss him off. "Be a good boy for me and I'll kiss you like that every time I see you."

She saw the feral look in his eye, how his chest rose and fell in breaths that were strictly controlled, she'd seen that look in men before. If she wasn't wrong and she was fairly certain she wasn't, Roman Aurelius enjoyed being praised.

Well, she could work with that.

To her surprise, Roman released her and rose up out of his chair, towering over her as though he was sizing her up, debating if he should or should not be a good boy, was the reward worth the obedience? She took a tentative step backward, not turning her back to him just yet, as she made her way towards the door, and again to her surprise Roman let her go. But the look in his eyes told her it was a tough call.

"See ya, Mercer," Belladonna nonchalantly greeted as she passed Mercer, who had been lurking in the shadows of the room.

The door to the penthouse opened and shut leaving a void of sound and activity, Mercer stepped out into full view, watching the exchange between Roman and Belladonna with a mix of surprise and intrigue, he couldn't help but voice his astonishment.

"Did that really just happen?" Mercer asked with a genuine sense of disbelief in his voice.

Roman, wearing the satisfied smile that belonged to a man accustomed to getting what he wanted, nodded in response. His eyes remained fixed on the spot where Belladonna disappeared.

"Yes, it did."

Known for his own dark inclinations, Mercer surprised Roman with his next statement.

"I like her."

Roman's surprise was evident as he turned to look at Mercer, contemplating the weight of his words. A sense of curiosity grew within him, as he wondered how this new dynamic would unfold.

As soon as she stepped through her front door into the warmth of her loft apartment, her cheerful demeanor quickly faded, replaced by a frown upon spotting someone seated on the couch.

Benjamin Cyrus Black, a distinguished man with a salt-and-pepper beard, reclined comfortably, his presence commanding attention. He held a lit Cuban cigar, its fragrant smoke mingling with the air, it smelled good on Roman but on her father it just smelled like oppression.

With a thinly veiled politeness that barely concealed the venom within, Belladonna greeted him, her tone reminiscent of one used when dealing with an unwanted telemarketer.

"Hello, Dad."

Benjamin looked up from his contemplative state and offered a nod in response.

"Hello, Belladonna," he replied, his voice carrying a tone of authority with a touch of indifference.

As the room filled with a tense silence, Belladonna fought the urge to roll her eyes at her father's presence even as a grown woman, she was still afraid of him. Their relationship has been strained for years, marked by their conflicting personalities and differing views on life. She knew that engaging in conversation with him was often an exercise in frustration.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Belladonna crossed her arms over her chest, readying herself for whatever conversation her father had come to initiate.

The loft, once a sanctuary for Belladonna, now held an added layer of tension, as the clash between father and daughter loomed on the horizon.