Someone shouted. Head down, she kep

Someone shouted. Head down, she kept walking. As she was turning the corner some brute grabbed her arm and she was nearly yanked off her feet.
Her arm jerked, wrenching her hand from the pocket of her sweatshirt and she turned ready to attack. “What the fuck?”
Lucian, dressed in his long wool coat and a tailored black pinstripe suit, stared down at her. His jaw ticked and he wasn’t blinking. “Evelyn.”
She relaxed. “Jesus, Lucian, you scared the shit out of me.”
He quickly looked around and then took her hand and pulled her toward the front of the hotel.
“What are you doing?” she hissed and dug her feet in, but he was much stronger than her. “I can’t go in that way. I look like crap. People will stare.”
“And whose fault is that?” he snapped. “I spent thousands of dollars on a new wardrobe for you not twenty-four hours ago, yet here you are walking around looking like you’re homeless. Where the hell’s the coat I bought you?”
And that, apparently, was her limit. Scout yanked her arm free and stomped her foot. “Stop! I’m not some little kid you can just boss around. I’ve been taking care of myself longer than you’ve probably been on your own. I never had a dad and I don’t need one now.”
“Are you finished?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Searching her mind for a moment in case there was anything else, she paused. Yes, she was finished. And now she was shaking. Fury blazed in his eyes, but he had no right to manhandle or boss her like that.
Adrenaline rushed her system, making her feel cornered and off balance. Lucian didn’t look like the easygoing man who took her shopping yesterday or the man who taught her to play chess last night. He looked every bit the menacing industrialist prepared and qualified to take over the world.
Shit.
“Lucian, I—”
“Not. Another. Word. It’s ten minutes to ten and I’m now running late. You have an appointment. I’ll see you tonight at six at which point you will be dressed appropriately for the evening. We will have dinner, make our rounds at the benefit, and return home, at which point I expect to hear all about where you spent your morning. Any questions?”
He didn’t leave much unexplained.
She gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes, hopefully making it clear that he wasn’t the only person pissed off at the moment. “No.” She just wanted to get away from him.
He turned and whistled. About fifty people, the majority of them wearing Patras uniforms, turned and stared at them. Scout wanted to crawl under a manhole cover and die.
“Philippe,” Lucian called. The man jogged over. “This is Ms. Keats. See that she gets back to her room safely. She’s in suite 3000.”
Philippe looked at her and his judgment caused her to shrink. He had to be French. She was proven correct in the next moment when he began speaking to Lucian in what she now recognized as French. Naturally, Lucian spoke back to him in Philippe’s native tongue, probably flawlessly.
Once he’d given the attendant his instructions, he turned and left, without even a good-bye. Scout was pissed, but more frustrated with herself than anything. It hurt, for some reason, watching Lucian walk away from her without even a glance back.
Ridiculous.
There shouldn’t be such confusing emotions warring inside of her. This was a simple arrangement, one where she needed to keep her head and not underestimate him or lose sight of who he really was.
She should probably feel guilty for snapping at him, but her stubborn pride wouldn’t allow it. She may be younger and smaller than him, but she wasn’t anyone’s kicking post.
The limo pulled away. Let him be angry. She was angry too.
“Mademoiselle? I shall take you to your room now as Monsieur Patras instructed.”
Her shoulders drooped. Even in his absence he seemed to maintain control. "Yes, all right. let's go.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 2:

Seseorang berteriak. Kepala bawah, dia terus berjalan. Saat ia berubah sudut beberapa brute meraih lengannya dan dia hampir merenggut dari kakinya.
Lengannya tersentak, menyayat tangannya dari saku kaus dan dia berbalik siap untuk menyerang. "Apa-apaan?"
Lucian, mengenakan jaket wol-nya panjang dan disesuaikan hitam garis-garis pakaian, menatap ke arahnya. Rahangnya berdetak dan ia tidak berkedip. "Evelyn."
Dia santai. "Yesus, Lucian, Anda takut kotoran keluar dari saya."
Dia cepat melihat sekeliling dan kemudian mengambil tangannya dan menariknya ke arah depan hotel.
"Apa yang kau lakukan?" desisnya dan menggali kakinya, tapi ia adalah jauh lebih kuat daripada dia. "Aku tidak bisa pergi dengan cara seperti itu. Aku terlihat seperti omong kosong. Orang-orang akan menatap. "
"Dan salah siapa itu?" bentaknya. "Aku menghabiskan ribuan dolar pada lemari pakaian baru untuk Anda tidak dua puluh empat jam yang lalu, namun di sini Anda berjalan di sekitar tampak seperti Anda tunawisma. Dimana sih mantel saya membeli Anda? "
Dan itu, tampaknya, adalah batas nya. Scout menyentakkan lengannya gratis dan menginjak kakinya. "Stop! Aku bukan anak kecil Anda bisa hanya bos sekitar. Aku sudah mengurus diriku lebih lama dari Anda mungkin pernah Anda sendiri. Aku tidak pernah memiliki seorang ayah dan saya tidak perlu satu sekarang. "
"Apakah kau selesai?" ia bertanya dengan gigi terkatup.
Mencari pikirannya sejenak dalam kasus ada hal lain, ia berhenti. Ya, dia selesai. Dan sekarang dia gemetar. Fury berkobar di matanya, tapi dia tidak punya hak untuk menganiaya atau bosnya seperti itu.
Adrenalin bergegas sistem, membuatnya merasa terpojok dan kehilangan keseimbangan. Lucian tidak terlihat seperti orang santai yang mengambil belanja kemarin atau orang yang mengajarinya bermain catur tadi malam. Dia melihat setiap bit industrialis mengancam siap dan memenuhi syarat untuk mengambil alih dunia.
Sial.
"Lucian, aku-"
"Tidak. Lain. Word. Ini 09:50 dan aku sekarang terlambat. Anda memiliki janji. Aku akan melihat Anda malam ini di enam di titik mana Anda akan berpakaian dengan tepat untuk malam. Kami akan makan malam, membuat putaran kami di manfaat, dan kembali ke rumah, di mana titik saya berharap untuk mendengar semua tentang di mana Anda menghabiskan pagi Anda. Ada pertanyaan? "
Dia tidak meninggalkan banyak dijelaskan.
Dia mengertakkan gigi dan menyipitkan mata, mudah-mudahan membuat jelas bahwa ia bukan satu-satunya orang marah pada saat ini. "Tidak" Dia hanya ingin pergi dari dia.
Dia berbalik dan bersiul. Sekitar lima puluh orang, sebagian besar dari mereka mengenakan seragam Patras, berbalik dan menatap mereka. Scout ingin merangkak di bawah penutup lubang dan mati.
"Philippe," Lucian disebut. Pria itu berlari lebih. "Ini adalah Ms Keats. Melihat bahwa dia akan kembali ke kamarnya dengan aman. Dia di suite 3000. "
Philippe menatapnya dan penilaiannya menyebabkan dia menyusut. Dia harus Perancis. Dia terbukti benar pada saat berikutnya ketika ia mulai berbicara dengan Lucian apa sekarang dia diakui sebagai Perancis. Tentu, Lucian berbicara kembali kepadanya dalam bahasa ibu Philippe, mungkin sempurna.
Setelah ia diberikan petugas petunjuk, ia berbalik dan meninggalkan, bahkan tanpa selamat tinggal. Pramuka kesal, tetapi lebih frustrasi dengan dirinya sendiri dari apapun. Sakit, untuk beberapa alasan, menonton Lucian berjalan menjauh darinya tanpa sekilas kembali.
Konyol.
Tidak boleh emosi membingungkan seperti berperang di dalam dirinya. Ini adalah pengaturan yang sederhana, satu di mana ia harus menjaga kepala dan meremehkan dia atau melupakan siapa dia sebenarnya.
Dia mungkin harus merasa bersalah untuk menggigit, tapi kesombongan dirinya tidak akan mengizinkannya. Dia mungkin lebih muda dan lebih kecil dari dia, tapi dia tidak menendang posting siapa pun.
Limo menjauh. Biarkan dia marah. Dia marah juga.
"Mademoiselle? Aku akan membawa Anda ke kamar Anda sekarang sebagai Monsieur Patras diperintahkan. "
Bahunya terkulai. Bahkan dalam ketidakhadirannya ia tampak untuk mempertahankan kontrol. "Ya, baiklah. Mari kita pergi.