Chapter 8

　　He walked into the hall like it belonged to him...because it did. The maids bowed their heads instantly. The butler stepped aside. The entire room seemed to recalibrate around his presence.

　　All the hate and anger Eleanor felt disappeared into thin air. She had never seen him in reality, though she had always known of the beast of Green Manor.

　　He was tall...taller than she expected with a frame built from command. His charcoal suit was tailored to perfection, accentuating shoulders that looked carved from granite. Dampness clung to the edges of his coat, hints of rain on the wool. His jaw was strong, the lines of his face angular and arresting, every shadow cast like a sculpture. A faint stubble dusted his skin, just enough to sharpen the already savage handsomeness of his features.

　　While she yet skimmed through him, her eyes landed on his, his eyes were sharp, piercing and cold, locked on hers.

　　Eleanor's breath caught. Her entire body went still, except for the wild kick of her heart.

　　Oh no.

　　No, no, no.

　　She hated the way her skin prickled. Hated how her stomach swooped like she'd missed a step. Hated the heat crawling up her neck. This is not happening.

　　'Don't you dare trip for him, Ellie. Don't you dare.'

　　But it was too late.

　　He looked like Lucifer...fallen, dangerous, beautiful. All fury and fire and feral restraint. He looked like he could destroy kingdoms with a whisper.

　　And she hated herself for the part of her that wanted to hear him speak.

　　His eyes narrowed, only a fraction.

　　"Welcome to the Green Manor," he said, his voice smooth but hard. Like silk pulled over a blade.

　　Eleanor straightened. Her spine snapped into place. She forced her gaze to stay level with his, even as every nerve in her body screamed to look away.

　　She wouldn't flinch or act unguarded in front of him.

　　"Thank you," she replied evenly, her tone clipped and controlled.

　　Their gazes held like a silent clash of swords, neither of them blinking first.

　　Behind her, Martha whispered to Esther,"He looks like he eats people for breakfast."

　　Esther's reply was too breathless."Yeah... and somehow I want to be the meal."

　　Eleanor didn't smile, even though she would have if it wasn't about Marcus Green and she wasn't in this manor.

　　Because she already knew that he was going to be a problem.

　　Marcus simply looked at her the way one might look at a puzzle they didn't ask for.

　　"So," he said, voice low and clipped."You're the De-Laurents."

　　Eleanor's lips parted, but no sound came out at first. She hated that too. Hated how dry her throat felt.

　　"Yes," she managed finally, straightening her shoulders."I'm Eleanor De-Laurent. This is Martha, Esther, and Samuel."

　　Marcus gave the others a fleeting glance, then settled back on her.

　　"I was told you were punctual."

　　"We are," she said.

　　"You're late," he replied coolly.

　　That did it. The awe inside her evaporated instantly.

　　She narrowed her eyes."Traffic and rain. We're not gods, you know."

　　One of his brows lifted, barely, but she caught it.

　　"Mm," Marcus hummed."Excuses already."

　　Eleanor stepped forward before she could stop herself."Look, I don't know what you've heard about us, but we didn't come here to grovel. We came because you wanted a meeting."

　　His jaw flexed slightly."Your reputation precedes you."

　　"So does yours," she shot back.

　　There was silence. Then... a very faint upward twitch at the corner of Marcus's mouth. Not quite a smile. More like an acknowledgment that she hadn't completely bored him yet.

　　"Follow me," he said at last, turning and walking away without waiting to see if they obeyed.

　　Samuel leaned closer to Ellie as they trailed behind."Was it just me, or did that feel like standing in front of a panther?"

　　"It's not just you," Eleanor muttered.

　　Esther nudged her playfully."You totally stared at him. Don't deny it."

　　"I stared because he was rude."

　　"Sure," Martha smirked."That's why your face turned red."

　　"I tripped for two seconds," Ellie hissed under her breath."But it won't happen again."

　　And as Marcus led them into a room that looked like it had been plucked from Versailles, gold-trimmed chairs, crystal chandeliers, and a fireplace that crackled like a scene from a drama...Eleanor made a silent promise to herself:

　　Stay focused and as detached as possible.

　　But her pulse betrayed her, Marcus turned just then and caught her staring again.

　　Damn it.