She looked so weak, so fragile yet this fire burned behind her gaze. She wasn't scared of him. She wasn't wary of him. She looked like she would kill him at that moment if she could.
"I'm Dante De Rossi."
Eva recognized the name Dante. It was the name Evan had mentioned when discussing her savior. Dante was her savior.
She recognized his last name, too; De Rossi. His family was one of the most powerful in Lexora, and his father was the governor, strengthening their wealth and power even more.
She never thought he would be the one.
"Thank you for saving me. How can I repay you? Do you need money? I have lots of it. Do you need an army? My father is an ex-military general. He has connections in the military, so he can lend you more army than you already have. Name your price." Her tone was stern, as if she were asking for a price after sharing the bed with her.
He felt embarrassed.
Money? He has lots of it to fend for his children and grandchildren even if he retired at that moment. An army? He also had lots of connections in the military. If he needed an army, he knew who to place a call to.
"Unfortunately, I don't want any of that. I don't want anything from you," he replied.
Eva was taken aback. She sized him up. He was rich, since he belonged to the De Rossi family, but she knew that people like him wouldn't help anyone if it didn't benefit them.
"That's a lie."
"You can go ahead and believe whatever you want. But I don't need you. Evan told me you wanted to see me. Now that we've seen, I guess there's nothing more to add." He turned, ready to leave. "When it's time for you to be discharged, he'll work the papers. I'm running late, I have to get to a party." And just like that, he left without even giving a proper goodbye.
If Dante didn't want anything from her, then that would be relieving. She didn't want to owe anyone, especially someone like him, a debt. She glanced at the TV she broke and sighed.
**
"What did she say?" Rico asked.
Dante was storming out of the hospital with long strides, his 5'10 inches friend could barely keep up with him.
"She wanted to pay me with money," he hissed.
Rico, a guy with a small frame, curly dyed pink hair with earrings dangling on his eyes, asked, "What? I don't understand."
They both got into the car, and Dante ignited the engines and drove off. "She asked me if she could pay me off with money like I was some hooker she picked up from the streets. Do I look like a hooker to you?" He questioned.
Rico blinked at Dante.
"She also suggested getting me an army as a reward. What an insult," he hissed sharply.
"Will you relax?" Rico said, twirling his curly hair. "She's Evangeline Montclair. Her father is a wealthy man. She's raised to think the whole world revolves around money. You sound like your ego was bruised or something."
Rico instantly received a glare from Dante that caused him to stare out the window, admiring the raindrops on the window very closely.
Dante huffed. He wasn't supposed to react like this. He was overreacting and he wondered why. He had billions sitting in his account that could buy the hospital where she was recovering.
Dante scoffed once again, deciding to brush her off his mind. He had an important party to get to—his father's birthday. A lot of influential and powerful people would be present, and he couldn't afford to lose his composure all because of some woman.
He had no idea what she'd done to deserve that. Realizing his thoughts were drifting towards her again, his grip tightened on the steering wheel.
Half an hour later, both men stepped out of the car, walked through the red carpet with Dante practically ignoring the paparazzi and their questions, while Rico smiled with his bottom teeth, giving several poses, and answered a few questions before he followed along.
"Will you compose yourself?" Rico warned. "If you continue with this attitude, everyone will start staring."
Rico may be Dante's closest friend to a brother, but he was also his unpaid publicist. Rico was made for the public. He knew how to behave, meanwhile, Dante barely put in any effort.
Two months ago, he'd slammed a man's head to the wall in a public event after he'd mistaken him to be gay.
Dante slowed his steps when he spotted his father, while Rico rolled back his eyes.
"Happy birthday father," Dante greeted, a small smile on his lips. The people surrounding his father turned to look at Dante, their eyes flickering with something laced in them.
"Dante! I'm glad you were able to make it," Mr. De Rossi, a man who looked good for his age, had a lean muscular build with a face and head filled with icy white hair. "You didn't have to, you should have gone home to rest after your flight."
Dante's smile was stiff. This had been the way he interacted with his father in public. They acted like the best image of a father and son, but only the devil knew what brewed between them when there were no cameras.
"Where? Did Dante go looking for a wife or a husband?" One man asked. His beard shook as he laughed as if he'd made a proper joke.
"I wonder if he's already found his husband. I mean, he's always with Rico," another one said.
Rico stiffened, forcing a smile on his lips. "Worrying if Dante and I are a couple should be the least of your problems," Rico replied, and Dante kept shut, knowing he was about to devour the man. "Didn't you just celebrate getting closer to your grave last week? Maybe you should start planning for your funeral instead of using the small energy you have to wonder." Then Rico laughed, tapping the man whom he'd just dissed on his shoulders, urging him to laugh along.
Despite being displeased, the man couldn't speak up, else he wanted to go bankrupt at that moment.