Lamborghini | Tony Stark

SIXTY TWO - BEGGING

Being a lawyer came with its perks. Sasha kept a very rational head and rarely jumped to conclusions, finding it easy to mask and bend a gut feeling into whatever version of the truth she deemed necessary. That evening was no different to being in the court room, almost feeling like she'd never finished work.

Sasha stood by Tony's side for the rest of the night with a false smile plastered on her pink lips, laughing and greeting men and women whom she'd never met before, and wouldn't care about ever meeting again.

She held bland conversations for the sake of Tony's status and the Stark Industries name, nobody else in the room being able to tell that the glamorous lawyer of New York City was on the verge of cracking tears through cold blue eyes that night.

Swallowing the lump in her throat and putting out the fiery anger that burned in her chest came easy with the steady stream of cocktails the bartender made for her, having another Cosmopolitan already sat waiting on the edge of the bar before she'd even parted her lips.

Sasha would've been roaring drunk by the time the night came to a close, had she not also been seething with anger at what had occurred just a few hours earlier.

She'd felt sick the entire evening after catching Tony entertaining two women at his table, and the embarrassment that came with it only made her stomach twist and turn even more.

Tony had tried to pull her away into another room to talk about it, though arguing after an already draining day in court was the last thing Sasha wanted to do, and so she put on a brave face and accepted the free drinks as she stood by her man, doing what any good fiancée would do on such an important night for their partner.

"I left my things with the concierge earlier, there should be a briefcase and another bag, I think he tagged it. It's Sasha Coulson."

One of the doormen headed into the back room behind the entrance to grab Sasha's belongings, leaving her stood in the reception area with her hands clutching her purse, fingers tapping patiently against the grained leather.

"Would you like me to call a cab for you, Miss Coulson?" The doorman said as he returned with Sasha's belongings.

"Yes, that would be-"

"No," a voice interrupted, echoing footsteps on the marble floors drew closer, "She's good, thank you."

The doorman just nodded and placed down Sasha's bags on a table to the side before walking back to the door, turning his head once to check back on her after seeing the way she'd rolled her eyes at Tony's interjection.

"What are you doing?"

Sasha scoffed at the sincere stupidity of Tony's question, her eyes wide and brows raised and a hint of laughter in her voice as she replied, "What am I doing? I'm going home."

Tony sighed and grabbed hold of her wrist, pulling her back towards him as she took a step towards the door, "Come on Sasha, don't be like this."

Sasha bit her tongue, looking down slowly at the grip Tony had around her wrist before locking eyes with him.

"Let go of me, Tony."

He did as he was told, instantly releasing his hand and stuffing them into the pockets of his trousers. He'd felt incredibly guilty all evening about what had happened, but even more guilty at the fact there had been no discussion about it, not even an argument.

Tony had been caught doing all kinds of things he shouldn't have been doing by ex-girlfriends, and every single time he'd had something thrown at him or heard bloody murder screamed at him until the poor girl was blue in the face. Tony was used to that being the consequences of his actions and when he saw the way Sasha's face fell earlier that night, he'd expected nothing less from her.