Chapter 5 Learning to Earn Her Respect

RAMES’ POV

It had been two days since I told her I liked her, yet I still hadn't earned a single glance from her. If anything, she had become even stricter with me.

I tried to figure out why I said it myself, but I couldn't come up with anything. Everything about Yara was likable to me, especially how confident she was and how she didn't let herself get easily manipulated or conered.

Or maybe it was just the fact that, for the first time, I had found someone different from what I was used to. But that didn't change the fact that I actually did like her or that my interest in her seemed to be growing, the more I thought about her.

I chuckled, shaking my head as I remembered the expression on her face when she ordered me out that day.

My hand pressed against the charcoal stick, snapping its black tip over the textured paper. A dark smudge ruined the clean line of the jaw I was sketching. I tossed the broken piece onto the floor, unconcerned by the stain near my bare feet.

I sat alone in my massive bedroom, staring at the sketchpad resting across my knees. Floor-to-ceiling glass panels overlooked the western district of the city, but the view held no interest for me tonight.

The room was silent except for the occasional scratching of my drawing tools. Art was the one thing I did away from my father's business shadow, but for the last two days, my hands had been useless. Every time I touched charcoal to paper, I found myself drawing the same thing.

A pair of striking, defiant eyes that reminded me of the aurora borealis.

Yara Jenkins.

Her name kept running through my head like a broken record, a song I couldn't unlearn. I leaned back against the leather cushion, running a hand through my messy hair.

Maybe I was crazy for wanting her attention. But all my life, people had approached me with their hands out, smiling too widely and bowing to the Taranis empire before they even knew my middle name.

I was used to sycophants, girls who blushed whenever I looked their way, and teachers who treated me differently because my father was the school's biggest donor.

But Yara didn't care about any of that. If anything, she seemed to hate the fact that she had ever met me. Perhaps she hated rich people in general.

Yesterday, she'd sent Caroline out of her class simply because she refused to remove her chewing gum. She just had no room for tolerating anyone.

I picked up a fresh blending stump, trying to soften the harsh edges of the drawing. I wondered what I could do to please her. So far, we'd become enemies, and although I normally didn't care how people saw me, I found myself caring about what Yara thought.

With bitter clarity, I realized my behavior had made me look exactly like the toxic, entitled pricks she despised. I'd tried to blackmail her and thrown my family's influence around like a weapon, expecting her to break and stutter like everyone else. But maybe that was the problem. She wasn't everyone else, she was different.

“You're special, ” I muttered to myself, stopping for a second to look at my work, before continuing.

For the first time in my life, I was experiencing the mirror effect. It was an uncomfortable realization that my own behavior had ruined my chances with the only genuine, unfiltered person I'd encountered in this superficial world.

“You idiot,” I muttered to the empty room, tossing the blending stump into a plastic tray.

If I wanted her to look at me without disgust, I had to stop acting like a child. I couldn't keep hiding behind my family's influence or using traps to force her compliance.

I had to step down from my pedestal and learn how to apologize sincerely. I needed to earn her respect and show her I could meet her as an equal, even if it meant changing everything I'd believed about myself.

I stood, leaving the sketchpad on the sofa, and walked toward the wide glass window. Tiny headlights moved along the city streets far below.

A sudden vibration rattled against the nearby marble countertop.

I picked up my backup phone and unlocked the screen. A message from my family's head of security appeared, accompanied by a digital copy of an insurance assessment report.

Invoice finalized for the silver sedan container. Legal team waiting for your authorization to file the official lawsuit against Jenkins, Y.

My fingers tightened around the phone until the glass creaked.

They were going to sue her?

If that paperwork reached her mailbox, she'd hate me even more, believing I was another spoiled rich kid determined to destroy her life.

I immediately tapped the call button, holding the phone to my ear as I paced across the floor.

“Sir Rames,” Gerald’s deep voice crackled through the speaker on the first ring. “The lawyers are prepared to sign the contract. Do you want them to proceed with the asset seizure documentation for the lady?”

“Tell them to drop the entire case,” I commanded, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper that cut off his explanation. “If a single lawyer from our firm steps foot near her, I’ll personally delete the entire security database for the western district. Do you understand me, Gerald?”

Silence stretched over the line for a long second. “Your father requested the standard recovery protocol, sir. The vehicle damage is significant.”

“And when did my father start caring about my business?,” I snapped, walking over to the closet and grabbing my coat from the hanger, pulling it over my shoulders.

“I’m handling the debt myself. Tell the insurance team to write up a basic, affordable repair estimate. Make it realistic for an average working class person and there's no need to add the cost of custom parts. Just the bare minimum.”

“Sir Rames, that’s hundreds of thousands of dollars in losses,” Gerald reminded me, his tone remaining perfectly flat despite the strange request.

“When did money start becoming a problem for the Taranis family? Or has my father suddenly become poor?” I asked, snapping my sketchbook shut and shoving it into a leather drawer.

“I'm sorry sir Rames” Gerald apologised and I sighed, reaching for my keys. “It's okay” I ended the call, my eyes catching my reflection in the mirror near the entry door one last time.

“If I have to strip away my last name piece by piece just to make you look at me without hatred, then that is exactly what I'll do.”