As she danced, Moralys tried to lose herself in the pulsing beat, trying her best ignoring the unwanted hands roaming her body. A pair of arms coiled around her midsection, and she gently slapped them away, offering a warning smile that felt more like a mask. The music flowed through her, and the buzz from the liquor lightened her mind, but not enough to drown out the persistent advances.
The man's hands made a second attempt, more insistent this time. Irritation bubbled up within her, and she turned to face him, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in close, her voice a honeyed whisper against his ear. "How about you keep your hands to yourself?"
"How can I, when you look so delectable?" he replied, his hands gripping her waist tighter.
Her skin crawled under his touch, a familiar frustration igniting within her. This man was handsome—tall and lean, clearly dedicated to the gym—but she couldn't muster any excitement. Most men failed to ignite a spark in her, leaving her to settle for lacklustre encounters. Even Christopher's presence felt bland and uninspiring.
"Why don't you buy me a drink?" she suggested, slipping away from his grasp and making her way back to the bar, desperate to escape his probing fingers.
As he ordered the drinks, she checked her phone, rolling her eyes at the message from Brittle. She barely noticed when he dropped something into one of the glasses, sliding it toward her with a smirk that made her skin crawl.
"Our drinks are here," he said, eyes glinting with mischief.
With a sigh of irritation, she played with the rim of her glass, forcing a smile as she leaned closer to him, nails grazing the back of his neck. "How about you tell me what you really want?"
"At this point, I only want you," he said breathlessly, a grin spreading across his face as he watched her take a sip, his gaze lingering on her lips.
"Care to give me your name before we act on our instincts?" she asked, her tone laced with mock innocence, even as his hands slid further up her thighs.
"Sonmi," she slurred, giggling to mask her unease, desperate to keep the façade alive.
"Name's Kai, sweetheart." His voice dripped with arrogance as he leaned in, planting teasing kisses along her neck.
Just then, her phone rang, cutting through the tension. "Oh, my friend says she's ready to go. Sorry, I have to cut this short." She pouted, standing abruptly.
"It was nice to meet you," he said, watching her leave with a mix of annoyance and interest.
As she stumbled out of the club, the cold night air hit her like a shockwave, clearing some of the fog from her mind. The sound of her heels clacked against the concrete, a stark contrast to the chaos inside.
But she sensed him behind her—the man she thought she'd escaped. When he turned the corner, she quickened her pace, darting into an alleyway. Rejection didn't sit well with men like him, and she hoped playing coy would deter him.
"Damn addicts," she muttered, cursing his persistence.
Persistent son of a bitch, she thought, glancing back to see him approach, a slouch in his step that made her stomach churn.
"We meet again," he slurred, propping himself against the wall, breathless.
As irritation surged, she faced him, letting a frustrated tsk escape her lips. His heavy breathing and glistening forehead were repulsive, but she couldn't ignore the heat rising in her cheeks as he closed the distance.
"What did you try to give me?" she sneered, her pulse quickening as she assessed his state.
"Caught you," he panted, his eyes roaming over her exposed skin with a lopsided smile.
She instinctively slapped him, and he stumbled back with a groan. "That's for trying to drug me, you piece of shit!" she shouted, delivering a swift kick to his groin.
"And this—" she laughed, following up with a kick to his back as he fell to the ground, "is because I won't be getting any dick tonight!" Frustration and adrenaline coursed through her, a wicked smile on her lips.
"I really hate scum like you" she whispered as she stooped to the man sprawled on the floor, her fingers brushing through his hair as she not so lightly grazed his face along the rugged ground.
She filtered through the body until her hand claimed his wallet, a refreshing smile adorned her lips as she fanned some hundred-dollar bills against her face.
"At least something good came out of this" she giggled.
Suddenly, a deep chuckle echoed from the mouth of the alley. A familiar figure stepped forward, panic coursed through her as she stood up abruptly, almost falling over from whiplash.
"Well… seems like you did my job for me," he said flatly, glancing at the man sprawled on the ground.
Behind him, two men in sharp black suits followed, they approached the stagnant man, checking for a pulse before dragging it away.
"You unknowingly did me a favor," he continued, his gaze locking onto hers. The intensity of his stare sent a shiver down her spine.
"Which means I owe you—" he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear, "—and I don't like to owe anyone."
The dangerous edge in his voice made her squirm, her body betraying her as desire mingled with fear. Her mind raced with inappropriate thoughts, each flicker of lust amplified by the liquor clouding her judgment.
Get a grip, Moralys she thought, urging herself to run, but her feet felt glued to the ground as he chuckled softly.
"It's nice to see you again in such a… pleasing environment," he said, his eyes raking over her legs.
She felt exposed under his gaze, heat rising to her cheeks as she realized the truth—they both knew what she wanted, and the amusement dancing in his eyes made her heart race.
"Do I make you nervous?" he asked, stepping back to light a cigarette, his casual demeanor infuriating.
"What woman wouldn't be nervous when approached in an alley by a man dressed in black after he just dragged another man God knows where?" she scoffed, crossing her arms defensively.
But the liquor was taking hold, and she felt herself losing focus, the edges of her reality blurring as she hummed softly.
Damn it, Christopher she mentally cursed her absent boyfriend.
"You said you owed me," after a pregnant silence she mumbled, surprising herself.
She could feel her body was shutting down due to her overconsumption of alcohol, with her mind set, she glided slowly towards the danger before her, wrapping his tie around her finger, she pulled the barley moving man down. Cheeks flushed from embarrassment, she tipped on her toes to meet him.
"Give me what I want and we're even" She whispered.
"Bold… or maybe just stupid," he replied, gripping her arm and pulling her toward a sleek black Maybach.
Before she could protest, he tossed her into the back seat. A gasp escaped her lips as she bounced, her head hitting the door, shock flashing across her face.
As he settled beside her, she kicked her feet, desperate to land a hit. But he caught her ankles, pulling her closer until their faces were inches apart.
"I don't hit women, but my bullets do. Don't test me," he stated, letting her go.
Her heart raced, confusion swirling within her.
What the hell did I get myself into she thought, trapped in a web of desire and danger.