The entire drive, Diana felt agitation flowing through her.
Why had she followed him?
She could have let him leave when he wanted to. But for some reason, her feet had carried her towards him and even when she was rational, she didn't let him go. Now, here she was inside his car, going to heaven knows where with him.
Her feet tapped on the floor, and her fingers fidgeted on her lap.
Every time his gaze flickered her way, it came with little smirks he pulled and instead of glaring like she knew she usually would, she was rather stuck on the idea that he had a very pretty smile…for a man.
Something about him sometimes just didn't feel human, and maybe that was just her losing her mind.
The car slowed down, pulling through a wide-open double gate. She glanced up at the penthouse.
"Is that…"
"My home?" Ian said, looking over to her. "Yes."
She let herself out and craned her neck back to stare at the sprawling building, purely in white and stretching to the sky.
"Are you coming?" he called over his shoulder.
His back was retreating. He wasn't waiting for her and although reluctant, she followed hurriedly after him.
It wasn't like she had anywhere to go, right?
Inside the building, Killian who'd just stepped out from the elevator was the first to sight Diana's frame behind his boss.
His eyes widened.
Without thinking, he snatched Hallow and yanked him behind the double doors, slapping his palm over his mouth.
They watched silently as Diana ascended the stairs with Ian and once they were out of sight, Killian let go and Hallow gasped for air.
"Did you—did you know he was bringing her here?" Hallow whispered in panic.
Killian frowned. "Does it look like I did?"
Both of them released a sigh of relief.
…
"After you." Ian pushed open the door of his office and motioned her inside.
Diana paused for a second and met his eyes, then hesitantly stepped in.
He shut the door behind her and shrugged off his soaked coat, folding it neatly and keeping it aside. As he began to unbutton his vest, he made his way behind his desk and sank into the leather office chair.
Diana watched him in silence.
"Aren't you going to sit?"
She glanced at the chair across from his and removed her damp jacket before lowering onto the seat.
"Why were you sitting out there in the rain?" Ian asked.
She exhaled. "None of your business."
"Don't do that with me." He frowned. "I want to know why you were out there."
"And I said it's none of your business. Why did you even bring me to your house?"
He rose to his feet, grabbed his chair, and dragged it around the desk—closer until he planted it directly in front of her. He sat down, erasing the few inches separating them.
Diana's throat worked in a thick swallow.
"It's because of Stefanos Rassi, isn't it?" he said. "That's why you were seated outside under the rain, bawling your eyes out over and over again."
"Ian," she snarled in rising irritation. "It is none of your business, stop—"
"Get a divorce," he demanded.
"What?"
"Divorce him. Stefanos doesn't like or care for you anyway, so you have nothing to lose. Not unless you like the taste of misery."
Her hands clenched into fists. "You don't know anything about me, Mr. Basti."
"But that's not true. I know you, my doll, more than you think."
"I'm not your doll," she mouthed out, angry, and rose to her feet to walk off. "And mind your business!"
"What is it? Stockholm Syndrome?"
Diana spun around instantly, stunned.
"What?"
"I'm trying to understand why you haven't left him." Ian Basti slanted his head to the side. "He abuses you, physically and emotionally. Why isn't getting away from him an option or do you—"
One minute, she'd been standing there, and the next, she slapped him, hard across the face, the sound echoing in the room.
Ian's head tilted, but he didn't move. Instead, he looked at her, at her eyes, the anger in them.
"You think you know everything? Well, news flash, Ian, you don't," she seethed. "You don't know anything about me and enough is enough. You're not my friend and maybe I do truly dislike you thoroughly, so stop getting into my space!"
She turned and began to storm off towards the door to leave, and probably the building as a whole.
Back out there.
Into that heavy rain?
Not a chance.
Ian was behind her in a heartbeat. He grabbed her arm and startled, she gasped, eyes drifting to his violet gaze.
"What are you—"
"Does your anger mean I'm wrong, Diana?"
She took a step back, and he moved along with her, feeling the tremor that rushed through her entire body beneath his fingers.
"Let go of me, Basti."
"Am I wrong? Answer me."
"Yes." She glared at him. "Yes, you are wrong! Maybe I loved him, but that doesn't mean I'll tolerate his nonsense or that I'm stuck to him. After all, if that were true, his head wouldn't be a mess because of me."
Ian stilled.
Oh. He did recall Stefanos's head in a bandaged mess. Did she do it?
Unapologetically, his lips pulled into the slowest, most satisfied smile.
Diana shoved him. "Let go."
But Ian Basti did the very opposite, stepping further into her space.
Her breath hitched when her back met the wall and she swallowed, goosebumps all over her hand that he held.
"Basti…l-let go."
"Do you have a problem with my first name or what? You seem to do everything in your power to avoid saying it."
"Shut your mouth," she said and tugged at her hand.
Ian inched his lips closer to the corner of hers as he said, "Listen, doll, whether I'm right or not, does not matter. The thing is that you have to get away from Stefanos—you have to leave him."
"And who do you think you are?" she questioned. "You don't tell me what to do."
He snatched her wrist and slammed it above her head on the wall. Her throat bounced in a swallow.
"You are very stubborn, do you know that?" he murmured, inches from her lips.
Diana exhaled slowly. "Ian, if you dare…"