Ash’s pov ;
Sitting in the passenger seat, I stared out of the window in silence. But it was a calm silence and not an uncomfortable one.
As we drove through the city streets, the sun was slowly beginning to set, bathing the buildings and trees in a soft golden light.
"Why aren’t you talking?" Elijah asked out of the blue.
I couldn’t help but scoff inwardly. "What’s there to talk about between us?"
Since when have we beco close enough to engage in casual conversation? Or was Elijah actually trying to have a normal talk with ? The idea seed bizarre, given our tumultuous history.
"I don’t know," he replied after a beat. "What do you want to talk about?"
I shook my head slightly, staring out the window to hide my discomfort. "I don’t have anything to say," I muttered, feeling the awkwardness settle between us once more.
The truth was, we had never shared a real conversation ever. It was always business, contracts, or argunts. I knew nothing about Elijah outside of work, and I was fairly certain he knew nothing about as well.
He had never shown any interest in sharing personal details—our interactions were always awkward and aggressive.
Feeling a flush of embarrassnt creeping up my neck, I decided to break the silence tentatively. "Then let’s talk about your hobbies if you’re so desperate to have a conversation," I asked in a low voice, almost surprised at my own audacity.
There was a mont of stunned silence before Elijah responded. "My hobbies? I wake up early, read the newspaper, have coffee, go to the office, and co ho."
Jaw open wide I looked at this man in disbelief. That’s why I never like to talk to him. He would die before giving any normal answer.
"And when are you not in the office? Don’t you have hobbies or sothing?"
He seed to consider the question for a mont, but then his eyes narrowed slightly as he stared straight ahead. "I don’t have ti for hobbies. I work and co ho, that’s it."
"You never go out? You never have friends over?"
"Why would I? Having Ryder over is a waste of ti."
"Because it’s nice and it’s good for your health," I insisted, a hint of exasperation creeping into my voice. "Don’t you get lonely?"
"I’m fine with being alone."
The answer was short and firm, but there was a trace of bitterness in his tone that I didn’t miss.
I shook my head, he’s beyond help. He’s a loner, a recluse, and a sadist.
"What about you? What are your hobbies, Mr. Perfect?" he shot back, an edge of sarcasm in his voice.
I hesitated. "Nothing exciting. I read, go out with friends, or go to the gym."
A dramatic laugh escaped from his lips. "Gym? With that body of yours? Don’t make laugh."
"What exactly do you an by that?" I retorted, a bit insulted by his words.
"Nothing. But how co your stamina is so low even after visiting the gym?"
"Low stamina? I’m perfectly fit."
"Please. You cry after just two rounds. You’re weak and pathetic."
"What?!" I fought the urge to slap him hard.
Just how did we go from talking about our hobbies to arguing about my body and stamina?
"Just shut up," I cried out in frustration."If I’m not weak and pathetic, you’re just a monster with a lot of energy. A fucking sadist who doesn’t have any other hobby than bullying others. How dare you say anything about my body?!"
"I’m the monster? Look at you, a whiny crybaby." He cooed mockingly.
"Fuck you!" I shut my eyes tightly and crossed my arms over my chest. "So much for trying to have a civilised conversation with you."
"I didn’t ask you to start the conversation," he reminded coldly.
"Fine, it’s my fault. Don’t talk to ."
I sat angrily, seething in silence. But as the car ride dragged on, the tension began to ease, the anger and irritation replaced by a quieter emotion.
As the sun set and the stars ca out, I found myself looking over at Elijah.
Even with the dark tint of the windows, I could make out the lines of his jaw and nose. He had a strong, sharp profile, the kind of face that could cut glass.
He was attractive, but his features were cold, and unyielding. His eyes were dark, the irises nearly black, his brows slanted and severe.
Despite his harsh appearance, there was sothing almost ethereal about him, sothing untouchable.
He’s an asshole, an arrogant, self-centered bastard, annoying and irritating.
And yet, sitting there in the car, I felt sothing strange stir within . It was a feeling I couldn’t quite na, a sense of curiosity, perhaps, or maybe even admiration.
I wanted to be away from him and his cruel nature, but the truth was, there was a part of that didn’t.
The more I thought about him, the more I couldn’t understand. Who is he really? What is he thinking? Why does he treat people like toys, disposable objects?
What revenge did he want to take on ?
My eyes fell on his hands that were gripping the steering wheel. His fingers were long, elegant, with well-trimd nails.
Without realising it, I gaped at it imagining what those hands could do.
My cheeks grew hot as the mories of him rubbing those sa fingers against my swollen hole resurfaced in my mind.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the intrusive thoughts.
Ash, you perv. What the fuck are you thinking?
I forced myself to look away, staring out the window instead, but the image of his hands remained etched in my mind.
"I have a bit of a sweet tooth, actually. I like tasting desserts from famous bakeries." His words were so unexpected that they jolted out of my trance.
"Excuse ?" I turned to look at him, surprised.
He turned his face and his gaze t mine, and I prayed he didn’t get a whiff of what I was thinking about.
"I have a sweet tooth," he repeated. "I like tasting desserts from famous bakeries."
There was a slight twitch of a smile on his lips, and I was srized.
I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in disbelief. Elijah, with a sweet tooth? It seed so contradictory to his usual deanour—always serious, always bitter.
I chuckled softly, unable to contain my surprise. "You and sweets? I find that hard to believe."
He rolled his eyes, a hint of annoyance flickering in his expression. "Why is that so weird?"
I shrugged nonchalantly, deciding to push a little further. "It’s just...you’re always so...stoic. Sweets seem out of character."
"There’s so much about you don’t know," He announced and looked back at the road but the darkness in his eyes and the threatening tone of his voice made feel chill.
I blinked a few tis, not sure how to respond. "I guess you’re right," I conceded.
Another beat of silence passed before I spoke again, this ti more timidly. "You never really share much about yourself."
"I’m not a fan of talking about myself," he stated expressionlessly.
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "It’s not sothing I like doing. Besides, there’s nothing interesting to tell."
I couldn’t help but scoff at that. Staring at his nonchalant face for a long while, he appeared more and more alarming. And that irked deeply.
After a pause, I found myself asking a question that had been on my mind for so ti. "Why did you beco a businessman, Elijah?"
He didn’t respond imdiately, and for a mont I wondered if he was going to ignore or brush off the question. But then he turned his head and gave a serious look.
"Maybe it’s in my blood," he admitted quietly. "My father was a businessman. He taught a lot about it."
It struck as odd because this was the first ti Elijah had ntioned his father. It was a glimpse into a part of his life he rarely shared. And I found it strangely fascinating to see him speak with a hint of pride about his upbringing.
I nodded and after he turned back to driving, I lost in my own thoughts. I don’t know anything about his past or his parents. He never talks or shares about his family, or anything personal for that matter. He’s always so closed off.
And as the car sped along, I realised that I didn’t really know anything about him, other than the fact that he was a ruthless businessman who use people for his benefit and then threw them away.
I want to know how he beca who he is today. I wanted to know more about him.
Curiosity and concern for his past surged within , overriding my usual caution. And I made the grave mistake of asking my next question.
"Elijah...how did your parents die Ugh—-?"
The words barely ca out of my mouth before the car screeched to a sudden halt, throwing forward. My head collided with the dashboard, sending a sharp pain through my skull.
Before I could gather myself, strong hands gripped my arms tightly and pulled towards Elijah’s furious face.
His eyes emitted with wrath and his jaw clenched tight. His intense gaze made my stomach twist with apprehension. I imdiately knew I had crossed a line, delving into a topic he clearly didn’t want to discuss.
"How dare you ask that?" He growled dangerously through his gritted teeth. Fear raced through at the intensity of his reaction. I didn’t an to hit such a nerve, and now I felt the weight of my mistake crashing down on .
"I... I’m sorry," I stamred, my voice shaky as his grip tightened. "I didn’t an to upset...you. I-I was just curious."
"Curious?" He groaned in extre outrage, squeezing my arms before releasing , and pushing away. "You think the topic of my parent’s death is sothing you could gossip casually."
"Arnghh!" I stumbled backward, my back hitting the car window. Pain shot through my head from the impact, but it was Elijah’s sudden rage that sent a chill down my spine.
"Fuck you!" His hands clenched into fists, punching the steering wheel and then the window, cursing under his breath. The sound reverberated in the car, echoing my own fear and regret.
When he finally turned to look at , I flinched involuntarily at the fire in his eyes. "Get out," he commanded through gritted teeth, his voice still laced with anger. "You will go ho by yourself."
I hesitated, my mind-wobbling from his abrupt change in behaviour. I couldn’t comprehend how I unleashed this side of him.
"I SAID GET OUT!"
With a shaky breath, I opened the car door and stumbled out onto the pavent. Leaning against the car, my hands trembled as I tried to steady myself.
"Ah!" I landed on the ground with a thud as the car sped away. My hands scratched against the concrete road, bruising my hand.
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