Ash's pov ;
"What?! But why, Ash?" Noah shouted angrily, his face getting red while his voice shaking with indignation. "Why the fuck would you agree to his terms? Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself into?!"
I cringed at his outburst. I don't blame him for being angry. I would have reacted the same way. I had expected this storm but still found it hard to weather.
"Noah, please, calm down," I pleaded to him trying to placate him, but it was no use.
"Don't tell me to calm down! This is a goddamn nightmare to be again with him," he yelled louder. "How can you be so naive, Ash? How could you let him blackmail you into this? You're a goddamn idiot, that's what you are!"
I bit back a retort, his words were cutting me deep. He is right. I'm a dummy, a weak, spineless fool. But I wish he could understand how I felt after losing everything.
And I don't want to lose him too.
"Noah, please try to understand. And it's not like I'm the only one who agreed to his demands. He also accepted mine," I informed him.
"Yeah, sure, like he cares about anything other than his revenge. He doesn't give a shit about your demands, Ash. Don't you get it? He's just playing you as always." his voice softened slightly, but the frustration was still there a bitter undercurrent.
I lowered my gaze, I got released as soon as I signed the contract with him, and the hours since my release were filled with a growing sense of dread and doubt. I had already started questioning everything.
Noah sighed, he looked tired, his eyes rimmed with dark circles. He turned to me with a softer yet worried expression.
"Listen, Ash. I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you, okay? I don't want you to end up trapped in a loveless marriage with that asshole again."
I gave him a weak smile, appreciating his concern. "I know. I'm sorry too. But it's too late. I've made my decision. There's no turning back now."
He plopped on the couch running an exhausted hand through his hair. "Now what?"
"He told me to wait until he contacts me again," I let out.
"Everything's so frustrating," he groaned, rubbing his temples. He was about to speak further when we heard the doorbell ring.
"I'll take it," I hurried to open the door and my face fell when I saw it was my mother.
The angry scowl on her face was a clear indication that she had already heard the news about the company going bankrupt and selling off.
"Hi, Mom—"
She cut me mid-sentence as her hand landed on my right cheek with a sharp, resounding smack.
"How could you be such a disgrace after all these years? How dare you force Samantha to make that video? Do you have any idea how much she cried? Is this how you repay us after your father gave you the company and left nothing for me and Samantha?"
She keeps on ranting. God! I hate her.
I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to punch her in the face. She was a hypocrite, a liar, and a cheat. The only reason she married my father was because of the money. She didn't love him, not even a tiny bit. And when my father died, she didn't shed a single tear. Instead, she sold all his belongings and used the money to buy expensive clothes and jewelry that were given to her.
"I didn't-"
"Don't say a single word. I won't be able to keep my anger under control if you open your damn mouth," she exclaimed, her voice icy with rage.
"Mom, please go back. Since you're already aware of the company's situation, I can't pay you anymore," I said anyway, causing her face to get redder furiously.
"That's how you talk to your mother? I'm the one who suffered the most. You have no idea what it was like, raising a son like you and handling your father. If it wasn't for Samantha, I would've left him sooner."
"Mom, get the fuck out," I snapped, my temper getting the better of me. The years of pent-up frustration and resentment boiled over, and I was ready to explode.
She glared at me, her eyes were wild, and her breath came in harsh gasps. She raised her hand again, and I stepped forward, grabbing her wrist, and stopping her from hitting me.
"You ungrateful, useless bastard. Don't you dare lay a hand on me," she snarled, struggling to break free from my grip. She looked grotesque, her ugliness stark even in those expensive clothes.
"Take your greed and anger somewhere else. Samantha tried to frame me and spoil my name so she deserved that," I announced firmly.
Her eyes blazed dangerously as she yanked her wrist free, her nails leaving red marks on my skin. "You will regret being so arrogant."
I stepped back and gave her a bored look. "Go ahead. Do whatever you want. But I'm done being your punching bag."
She stormed out after giving me a last dirty look, slamming the door behind her so hard the walls shook. The sound echoed through the apartment, a violent punctuation to her departure.
I stood there, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. Noah approached me cautiously, his eyes filled with concern.
"Are you alright? That slap must have hurt," He scanned my face.
I laughed and shook my head. "It didn't. I had it worse with her."
My phone buzzed interrupting us. And I was surprised when I answered it.
_____________
Elijah's pov ;
Sitting in my office, I revelled in the chaos I'd created around Ash. His once-promising career was in shambles, his father's company teetering on the edge of bankruptcy.
So, why the satisfaction I was expecting wasn't coming to me? Instead, it was replaced by a nagging emptiness I couldn't quite shake.
Reading all the negative things and comments about him online didn't bring me any glee.
No! I shouldn't feel like this. He deserved all that.
I quickly dismissed the thoughts of guilt. Ash is my enemy now. He needed to be hurt, to pay for what he had done. And I know how I can do that.
By keeping enemies close.
With a dark smirk, I called my secretary and ordered. "Get Ash to visit me at the company."
"Sure, sir,"
I hung up and waited for him to arrive. But even after hours when he didn't arrive, I began to get impatient.
I became intolerant. Leaving my chair, I paced back and forth in my office but he didn't come. Is he intentionally testing my patience?
That stubborn little actor!
My frustration peaked, and I walked towards the door. I was about to command my secretary to forcibly bring him here but when I extended my hand for the doorknob, the door finally opened.
And unexpectedly I came face to face with Ash who looked just as surprised as I was. We stood in complete silence, eyes locked in an intense stare.
Being so close to him, my heart rate spiked rapidly. Desire mixed with anger, and it became practically impossible to restrain me from acting on my wild urges to roughly grab him and fuck him right there in my office.
He frowned, breaking the moment. He had no idea on what was going on in my head or he wouldn't dare enter my office and run away.
"Why did you call me here?"
Without any care or caution, he pushed me away and walked inside. And every rational thought of mine flew out the window immediately.
My body, traitorous as ever, responded instantly. No matter how vicious, cunning, or deceitful he is, his appearance is nothing short of angelic. His face, with those piercing eyes and soft, full lips, was a masterpiece I could never tire of.
I let my gaze travel downward, drinking in every inch of his form. His neck, which is slender and inviting, practically begs to be marked. His shoulders, which are broad yet delicate, always held a tantalising promise of hidden stability. My eyes traced the line of his collarbone, the memory of kissing and biting that spot still vivid in my mind.
My mouth watered as I imagined his chest, firm and sculpted, his abs that are like a perfect series of ridges that my hands itched to touch again. And those soft and milky hips and thighs had driven me wild countless times. The way his body swayed whenever he moved, so fluid and graceful, made me desperate for the pleasure he could bring.
It had been so long since I'd last tasted him, and the hunger gnawed at me relentlessly. The thought of ravishing him, of feeling his body writhe beneath mine, was enough to drive me to madness. His mere presence was a potent aphrodisiac, a drug I was hopelessly addicted to.
I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging into my palms, trying to maintain control. But it was useless. My desire for him was too overpowering, too consuming that I needed to convince myself that this lust, this overbearing craving was justified.
After all, Ash was a manipulator, a murderer, a deceiver. He deserved every ounce of torment I could inflict on him.
As I stood there, barely containing my desire, I rationalised it. Since Ash was the embodiment of everything vile, taking my revenge by ravishing his body would not be wrong. He deserved to be punished, to be used, to be brought to his knees in every way possible.
My eyes roamed his body one last time, lingering on his lips, his neck, and his chest. I imagined the taste of his skin, the sound of his moans, the way he'd look when he finally broke under my touch. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, my need for him heightening.
Yes, I would take my revenge in every way imaginable. And devouring his body would be one of those ways.
He would pay for his sins, and I would revel in every moment of it.