Chapter 11: 11

The opera is not my idea of a good night and as we arrived only minutes before it began, I must suffer
it before I am supposed to seduce this so-called future Mayor of the city.

We are in a private box above the theatre and I feel a little like pretty woman up here—it’s practically a
remake if I was setting the scene, although Alexi outshines Richard Gere hands down in his sexy black
tux.

The box is private, dark and comfy, with a red curtain draped to one side should we want more privacy.
The dark red, velvet seats are like posh dining chairs with extra oomph and padding and weirdly very
formal. It’s obviously a V.I.P. box as we are the only ones in here and seems we have a prime view of
the stage below us, with complimentary binoculars, a balcony and a curtained entrance to our rear that
leads to an outer corridor.

My strapless dress is red too, seeing as he did say it was my colour; long, fitted and has ultimate
cleavage boosting abilities under a glittering faux diamond necklace that draws your eye to my assets.
It’s figure-hugging but kicks out to a fuller skirt past my knees and trails the ground when I walk.

Alexi totally digs it, even if he refused to comment or admit it; I caught him trailing his eyes up my
curves more than once when we were getting in here and I wonder if maybe he is a cleavage guy when
they are framed by the right outfit. This dress definitely makes the most of my girls and his hands on
my waist when guiding me in here was a tad on the possessive side when other men strayed a little too
close with a wandering gaze.

As much as I hated obeying him, my hair is up after I spent an hour in a salon making it perfect and my
makeup is naturally flawless with a bold lip. Alexi gave me the once-over with a nod when I emerged
from my bedroom and his appreciative glances implied he was satisfied with my efforts. It’s probably
painful for him to admit I look smoking, as much as it pains me that I had to obey him on every aspect
of how I look.



I guess I can live with it occasionally when his approval is the reward. It makes for a less hostile
environment and if the music was a little less ear aching I would probably be enjoying myself in his
company.

He isn’t too bad as a date. Although he is a man of very few words. Even now, sitting side by side, I
keep catching the little looks as he casts another quick scope over my figure in this dress. He only paid
forty-six hundred dollars for it, so I am assuming he thinks it’s worth it. I did make him pay through the
nose to look this good, but he would have the nerve to tell me how to dress and I wanted him to suffer
for the privilege. He didn’t even react when I told him I maxed out the credit card he gave me today.
Instead, he took it and pushed it back in his wallet with zero conversation, glance, or emotion at all.

I was expecting an outburst at least, seeing as the hair salon was two hundred bucks alone for the up
do, then there was my nails, shoes, clutch bag and jewellery, facial, makeup, massage …… I guess
money is not one of the things he is hung up on when it comes to this kind of thing. That suggests he
has more than enough to think of a few grand as pocket change.

He probably doesn’t know what it’s like to scrape by and have to make a few dollars last you a few
days when surviving on the streets, hungry and cold. He has no concept of that kind of life; another
reminder of how far apart we are in reality.

The high-pitched singing is giving me a headache, and as I glance his way, I cannot really tell if he’s
enjoying it or not. He’s watching intensely, looking at all the characters on stage, completely engrossed.
With his skill at complete inexpressiveness, he could be having the time of his life for all I know.

I still have not perfected any sort of art in reading him, and judging by his cousins frustrated digs
occasionally, I do not think there is a human alive who can read that face, no matter how well you know
him.



I’m not stupid though and I know he’s probably scanning the room at the same time for faces and
people and generally keeping a watch on his entire surroundings. What with his constant flank of men
standing behind us in the shadows, behind the curtains and I feel uncomfortable with the duo’s
presence.

I get that he takes an entourage everywhere he goes, but I think he could have at least left them
standing outside his private box and not almost right behind me where one of them keeps leaning
forward to look down my cleavage. It’s one of his younger escorts, and he has clearly not learned
where his eyes should stay in terms of Alexi’s possessions. He’s lucky Alexi hasn’t caught him yet or
his eyeballs would be yanked out of his face.

Alexi leans in close to me as the curtain starts to fall and turns his face my way, clean-shaven and
smelling like my idea of a good time with his sexy aftershave and masculine scent and hits me with
those almost clear eyes which always knock me sideways, no matter how often I see them. They really
are his best feature, which is saying something, as his face as a whole is pretty near perfect in my
opinion.

He can give me butterflies even now, and I hate that my body jumps to attention whenever his eyes
meet mine. For a sadistic arsehole, he was blessed with a face that comes straight out of female
fantasies.

‘’Interlude. Now we go find Demagio and invite him here for the second half. Get your game face on
London; you have a future Mayor to impress.’’

It doesn’t take him long to hone in on the man and his very young escort, whom I presume is his
daughter, or else he has a taste I cannot fulfill.

Hanging by the glittering bar in one of the plush carpeted lounges, under low lighting and chandeliers
as Alexi swoops like a bird of prey and is fast in pushing me and my breasts right under the other



man’s nose.

He isn’t shy about handling me in whatever way he wants, and tonight is no exception in that respect. I
am a piece of attractive meat to be dangled in front of a very hungry animal. Alexi is the game keeper.

Now I see why I was getting the appreciative glances from Alexi as Demagio becomes instantly
mesmerised with all that creamy flesh on show and practically salivates between them. Alexi knew he
was a boob man, clearly. Another premeditated game play on his part and I honestly feel like nothing
he does is ever genuine.

Anger and a sense of hurt pride aching low inside my gut and I push it away as stupid. He brought me
as a pawn and I shouldn’t be upset to be treated as such. This is who he is.

‘’Alexi! What a pleasure running into you here tonight; I wasn’t sure you still came to the opera, it’s
been a while.’’ Demagio literally cannot tear those watered green eyeballs off my derriere as he talks
and even though this is something I am used to, I am finding it increasingly uncomfortable as his young
date eyes me warily with a distasteful look. She looks all of thirteen at most and has a haughtiness that
is reserved for spoiled brats of rich people. I ignore her completely but it’s hard when a teen is giving
you the mother of all death glares.

Young, short, mousy brown, chubby and dressed in a mother approved gown that would be better
suited on a pensioner. I can see why this red painted woman is a source of disgust and her mother
must be a joy. Now I see why it is a sexless marriage. I am guessing this offspring marked the last of
their bedroom romps.

Demagio is a round, red-faced and balding specimen that reminds me of an over inflated tyre about to
pop out of his trim fitted tuxedo. He seems like a man who should be eternally greasy in a vest and
scratching his balls on some swampy back porch somewhere.



‘’I’m a busy man and Camilla here insisted on this little outing to show off her new dress, didn’t you
sweetheart? Camilla this is Marcus Demagio … Marcus, Camilla Walters.’’ Alexi throws me a fake look
of adoration and gently presses his hand into the base of my spine, so I am thrust back into the fold of
the two men, with my boobs right up under Demagio’s chin once again. I wasn’t aware I had been back
stepping to get away until this moment and I throw on an equally fake smile back at him, at his lame pet
name and manhandling. Standing my ground, so he can’t get me any closer.

I sure as hell do not need any prompts on seduction from him. I can handle this on my own. There is
more skill in this than just waving my breasts at the man and Alexi has no comprehension of how to
subtly work a man into a sweat. He is all about the full offensive and that is not how I play.

‘’Charmed Dahling.’’ I shake Demagio’s outstretched hand and smile sweetly as he practically melts at
my feet. ‘’He likes to keep me hidden in little dark places away from any form of human contact, as
though I am some sort of ugly leper, don’t you baby? Anyone would think he is ashamed of me.’’ I
flutter my lashes adoringly Alexi’s way and almost grin at the hint of annoyance that flickers fleetingly
by. Demagio bursts into an over dramatic laugh and brings both our attention back to him.

He is one of those enthusiastic types who over laughs at women’s attempts at humour because he
thinks it might get him laid.

In your dreams creep! You couldn’t even pay me to let you at me.

‘’How delightful, you’re a Brit? I love your accent, how very royal. So completely charming and funny
too, you are just divine!’’ He swoops up my hand in his for a second time and attacks it with sloppy wet
kisses that get an Alexi eyebrow raise before he looks away and smooth’s down his jacket, fixing his
bow tie a little aggressively.

I try not to pull my hand back and wipe it down Alexi’s sleeve, even though I get the impression he
didn’t like that little move at all. Demagio is a little more hands-on than Alexi would seem to tolerate but



as he is trying to sweeten him he is letting it slide, I learned quickly that you do not touch Alexi’s toys,
he is not a sharing player even when it’s a ruse in his favour.

Demagio makes my skin crawl but as requested I am all smiles and charm with little subtle touches to
encourage the flirtatious play as I slide an arm in his, giving him the full Camilla spotlight treatment
which assures men I am completely smitten for them.


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