Xanthe flinched at Lorenzo's outbursts, her lashes fluttering rapidly. She had half-expected that reaction from him, but was he not going too far with his choice of words?
She dragged in a lungful of breath, letting it soothe her building temper.
She was already exhausted as it was. It'd taken a great deal to locate his place again. The last thing she needed was to engage in an argument with this unpleasant man.
"Good evening to you," she said as calmly as she could. "I didn't get to properly introduce myself the last time for obvious reasons." She smiled broadly. "I'm Xanthe. And I'm not here to cause any trouble. I'm only here to seek an item of great significance which I may have mislaid at your house last night. I'll be grateful if you will kindly give it to me."
Lorenzo paused, his gaze lingering on her. Why the hell was she speaking like she popped out from a period drama? Whatever happened to the Gen Z slang and attitude?
Now he was starting to feel ashamed of himself.
He cleared his throat. "Out of curiosity, not that I give a shit, what exactly is this 'ITEM' you're looking for?"
Xanthe's eyes danced in excitement. Was he finally growing some conscience? Thank goodness.
"A journal!" She replied readily. "Black. Hardcovered. It appears to be rather simple. Not of the finest leather. Just plain."
Lorenzo shoved his hands in his pockets, narrowing his eyes at her. "So, let me get this straight. . . You broke into my house, dropped your fucking journal and now you want me to find it and hand it to you?"
"Yes, please." Xanthe nodded innocently. "If you don't mind."
In a fluid stride, he narrowed the space between them and lowered his head to her 5'7 height so that they were at eye level. His face was so close she could smell the woody fragrance of his cologne and feel his breath fan her face.
"GET LOST!" He barked in her face and then walked away.
The smile vanished from Xanthe's face. Instantly. Her lips parted as she watched him head for the entrance.
And here she thought he was capable of being human.
Her legs moved on autopilot, pursuing him while she pleaded with each step she took. "Oh, please, allow me to retrieve my journal. That's all I need. Once I have it you will never be troubled by me anymore."
"Troubled? By you?" He scoffed obnoxiously, not stopping for a second. "You should be grateful I'm not dragging you back to the police station or an asylum. Bold of you to think you can come back here making demands after what you've done."
Before he could take another step, Xanthe dived in front of him, spreading her arms to obstruct his movement.
"Please!" She begged desperately, oblivious to the security guards charging from behind her. "That journal means the world to me. I can not afford to lose it. I can't. . ."
Her voice drowned out in the cold air as the burly guards yanked her off the ground and began to carry her away like a rag doll.
They must've grown tired of dealing with her. Even before Lorenzo arrived, she'd been pestering them nonstop to let her in.
Xanthe fought against them, but what was the point? Each of these brutish men was built like Godzilla.
"Stop!" Lorenzo said finally, taking pity on her. "Let her go."
As soon as her feet touched the ground, Xanthe raced back to him, breathing heavily from exhaustion.
When he suddenly brought his face close to her again, she flinched backwards, only an inch away, before getting hooked to the spot.
She had to admit that Lorenzo was a gorgeous male specimen despite his not-so-decent personality
His face was a work of art. From his stormy grey eyes, to his well-chiseled nose, down to a jawline that was sharp enough to cut through metal.
She deliberately avoided his luscious lips to prevent bringing back embarrassing memories that were best left to decay.
But then her treacherous eyes began to travel downward until they found his toned chest, glistening temptingly through the opening of his shirt.
Something buzzed inside her chest and fluttered down to her stomach. Something she'd never felt in her life before.
Dark gods! Why was she even drawn to this vile man?
She cringed, mentally shaking off the spell Lorenzo seemed to cast on her before taking a step backward.
Two maybe.
She had to stay focused while dealing with this man. This was a matter of survival, and she was already running out of time.
But. . . but how could she stay focused when he kept staring at her like that?
When he finally straightened back to his 6'3 tall figure, Xanthe let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"Fine. I will consider finding this journal of yours if you answer one question. . ." Lorenzo said flatly. "What exactly were you doing in my house yesterday and who the hell are you?"
She paused. "That's two questions."
Without any words, Lorenzo motioned for the security to seize her, but just as they closed in, Xanthe raised her hand in surrender.
"Alright. Alright. I'll tell you. I'll tell you what you want to know. . . Although, I doubt you'd believe me."
"Try me!"
Xanthe sighed. From the little she'd gathered about the people of this realm, they had zero magic and zero willingness to believe in its existence.
In fact, they treated her as if she were senile when she brought up the topic.
But she was desperate! Too desperate to hold onto the hope that this man was different from the others.
Xanthe narrated everything to him. From her identity, the chaos in Sodom, to the incident at his jacuzzi.
And as she'd half-expected, Lorenzo didn't buy her story. One bit.
He inclined his dark head, staring at her like she was clinically ill. "So you're saying you are a witch?"
Xanthe nodded. "Yes."
"And you travelled through a magical portal that led you into my jacuzzi?"
"Yes."
"And this journal of yours is supposed to explain why your fellow witches want to have you killed?"
"Yes."
"Do I seem like an idiot to you?"
"Yes." She replied without thinking. Then her eyes widened when she realized what she'd said. "No! No, you do not strike me as an idiot. Not at all. Far from it."
Lorenzo shot her a murderous look before he continued, "Y'know, if you wanna lie, at least cook up something worth consuming. Not some low-budget fairy tale."
"It's not a lie." Xanthe snapped. "I truly am a witch."
Never in her life did she think a time would come when she'd have to defend her identity.
The High Priestess never failed to remind her that she was the most powerful witch to ever walk the Realm of Sodom. That she didn't even have to introduce herself, her dark aura was potent enough to do that.
Was that a lie as well?
"If you're a witch as you say, I'm sure you'll have no problem performing a location spell or something to find your journal."
"I could but I can't."
"What does that even mean?"
Xanthe groaned, releasing the frustration that threatened to choke her to death. "A Location Spell can't be performed by just any witch. Especially not by a novice like myself. It requires a great amount of potency and expertise, and currently, I do not possess any of those attributes. Most of all, I'm yet to amount to my full powers."
Lorenzo paused before a slow smile morphed his lips. "It's official," he nodded. "There's no sliver of sanity left in you. But you're in the wrong place, sweetheart. You should consider checking out the nearest mental hospital, that would be more beneficial to you, me, and. . . the society at large. Hmm?"
He patted her shoulder softly, grinning in an extremely infuriating manner that made her want to punch his face in.
She knew she shouldn't let her emotions get the better of her, but when he began to leave, she totally lost it.
With the accuracy of an African mom, Xanthe slid off one of her boots and flung it straight at the back of his head. "Give me back my journal!"
"Ow!" Lorenzo yelped, his hand immediately flying to his throbbing head. Slowly, his body did a 180, his blazing eyes shooting daggers at her. "Are you insane?"
"No!" Xanthe shot back, hands on her hips. "I'm not, you bounder!"
Lorenzo opened his mouth to fire back, but then he hung back. Confused.
"Bounder?" He echoed, his hand dropping to his side. "What the hell is a BOUNDER?"
Xanthe's chin rose, her eyes taking on a fighting glow. "A despicable man! A. . . a jerk! That's what you are, Mr. Lorenzo. You're a prolific jerk!"
"I'm a. . . WHAT?!" Lorenzo flared.
He knew he was a jerk, but no one had ever had the balls to say it to his face.
WHO THE HELL DOES THIS FLOOZY THINK SHE IS?
Aggressively, he stormed back towards her, causing Xanthe to back away almost tripping on the hem of her robe.
"Listen to me, you nutjob." He narrowed his eyes, waving his finger in her face. "This will be the last leniency I'll show you. The next time I see you anywhere around me or my house. . . finding your stupid journal will be the least of your worries. Understood?"
He didn't wait for her response. He simply strutted away like the prince of darkness himself.
However, his air of superiority came shattering when his foot caught on Xanthe's boot still lying on the floor like a mousetrap.
He stumbled forward. Once. Twice. Thrice. Swinging his arms desperately so as not to fall.
Fortunately, he regained stability, but not so much of his dignity.
And if Xanthe wasn't so mad, she would've burst into laughter.
She watched him breathe heavily as if he was mentally counting to ten before he grabbed her boot from the floor, made a huge point of dumping it in the trash can, and then burst through the glass doors of the lobby.
Xanthe could do nothing but scowl at him through the see-through entrance all the while fuming like an overheated steam train.
"You dare challenge me?!" She hissed under her breath. "I, Xanthe, most powerful witch of Sodom?! Very well. We shall see who will lose in this battle!"