Layla's POV
My first instinct to Mr. Darren's unruly response was to cry. I wanted to find myself a safe corner and bawl my eyes out. Perhaps, what they say about men with money is true. They are monsters. Self absorbed monsters with no heart. They can never love. Probably because they don't even love themselves.
This was a fake marriage. What was I even expecting? It would be better if I just go and get a job. As far as possible from him, and his stupid mafia business.
Now that I knew that I was free to do as I wanted for myself, I decided I would have to get to my apartment and take my files to the interview.
The stupid heart shaped clock told me that I had atleast one and half hour to prepare for it. That was enough time to put on some clothes and walk to the Avitek Avenue.
Avitek Avenue was a business complex with several major offices. Including AD Publications. AD Publications was a newly found, but already famous publishing house that had produced bestseller romances.
It was supposed to be a part of a bigger Conglomerate, that imported books overseas. Their authors were my favourite ones.
It wasn't easy to get an interview. I had some help from my previous employer at Daily Farm. His daughter was an editor. They were more than ecstatic to help me when I graduated with my degree in English Literature.
I sighed.
Those days were way past me. I never thought I would become a part of something dark and dangerous. What happened to living life in peace, somewhere new?
I never had it easy. And now, it was as complicated as it could get.
Then again, it was only a matter of time. The sooner I become financially stable, the better it was for me. Despite the "marriage", I was still living for myself. I had no family.
A strange warmth licked my neck. It made me weary. A strong scent filled the air. A presence. Instinctively, it made me gasp.
"Are you going to go out like that?" His hoarse voice traversed the room. I winced, almost jumping.
"You scared me—" I said, turning around to take a look. He was standing by the door frame, leaning into it.
Just now he was in casual wear. But not anymore. He was donning a charcoal black, three piece suit. It emanated that skin crawling, intimidating demeanor from him. He paired it with a sleek tie and formal, leather shoes. His hair was still tousled.
Then it dawned on me. He had showered.
Even now, his musky scent filled the air. It was intoxicating. Annoying. It was annoying.
"At least, I wasn't eavesdropping, Little Dove," he said, and I blanched.
He was fooling no one.
"I don't know what you are talking about," I lied. Was it that apparent?
"Is that why you suddenly seem so upset? Surely, you were scared before, but now... You seem, so angry," he closed the distance between us.
His finger tucked a wet lock behind my ear, as he stared into my eyes.
"Still have no idea, what you are talking about," I bunched my brows together.
"My Little Dove, is a shitty liar," he said, walking closer and closer. I took a step back, but he held me close with his other arm.
"But now that you have heard me, you know what to expect, Layla Chen," he chuckled.
"I do not love you. I will never love you. You get that inside your head. This marriage only serves me. For you, it's a punishment," he ran his fingers through my wet locks.
"I— Do not care. What is it to be loved by someone like you? You are heartless," I didn't know how I gathered the courage to say so. But I did.
For a moment, he looked torn. But then, a smug grin played on his lips.
"Good. It's easy to have no hopes. Right from the start.
You can do whatever you want. But everything that you do, would be what I approve of.
And I, am not letting you leave... In this. Like this. Not from this club, at least," he said, tugging onto the fastening of the bath robe.
The fabric slipped down, and I struggled to catch it. Too late. My front stayed exposed as it bunched to my feet.
"Your clothes are in the closet. Third room. Go get changed. I will drop you to your scrawny little apartment," he said, as tears formed in the corner of my eyes.
There was no time to cry. I made a bee line for the third room in the suite. A tug pushed me to a slab of something harder. Caught in a surprise, and still wallowing in my pity, I gasped. His body. Pressed against mine.
"What is it now, Mr. Darren?" I asked, trying to control my overwhelming emotions. If it was someone else, I would have kicked, cried and scratched his face.
He was devil reincarnated. A vengeful monster who was tied to me because of a cruel twist in fate.
"Haven't you already done enough for one day? If I bother you so much, why don't you just—"
His fingers made their way to my back. Slowly he pressed on my skin.
"Ah—" His touch. He was pampering my bruises. The longer his touch lingered, the more painful it became.
"Get your hands off me—" I pushed at him, but it was futile.
With one arm, he lifted me over his shoulder. He started walking towards the Suite Bedroom.
No. No! Not this. Not again.
Fear gnawed at my insides. Didn't I ask for the drugs because I was too overwhelmed the first time? To make me forget all that was hurting me. But now. I didn't even want to be anywhwre around him.
"Let me go! I am not going to sleep with you, just because you want to," I screamed.
He was deaf to my plea. He tossed me over on the bed, effortlessly as I squirmed. My naked frame looked at him helpless.
I searched his eyes for some clue. They surely didn't look like those of a lust blinded man. But then, what did I know about men?
"Please don't—"
But before I could say more, he moved I told another room. Just like that. He disappeared for a while.
I was too baffled to move. My pulse kept rising. The heart shaped clock told me that I only had one hour now. And I knew, I wasn't getting out of here if he doesn't want me to.
Shame took over me, as I tried to cover myself with my hands.
Creak.
The door turned open again. He stood there, in the door way. He held onto a tube.
What is he doing?
I looked at him, scared and confused.
"On your back, Little Dove. Let's get done with this quick. I am not having fun with you, either," he dismissed my thoughts. Just like that.
I wanted to resist. But his tone was nothing less than demanding.
Bracing myself, I turned. My exposed back faced him as I planted my face on the pillows.
"That's a good, Little Dove," his voice melted in my ears. And then... There it was. Something soothing smeared over my back. His fingers grazed it. He was gentle over the bruises.
He was treating my bruises. But why?
I relaxed a little, with that knowledge.
"Too scared of me, aren't you? Do I look like I will devour you, Little Dove?" He chuckled.
"You aren't exactly known for being jolly. And your behaviour hasn't been anything but crude," I mumbled.
"Believe it or not, I am not dying to sleep with you.
You are not that special," he said.
"Go and wear something breezy. I didn't mean to go all the way with you. But you were begging me... You aren't as innocent as you let me on," he growled.
His hand smacked my behind. I gasped.
"Get moving, now," he scoffed, as I laid there in my confusion.
***
Alphonso's POV
"...You are heartless," she said.
For some reason, it stuck with me. I reached for the ointment in the drawer.
It would have been so easy to get rid of her completely. But something about her had me exasperated.
Perhaps, it was the fact that she had managed to convince me. No one, except the Capo, could talk me out of doing something.
I was what most would say heartless. And even then it didn't bother me. But somehow, hearing the words from her lips made it all different.
What was I even doing here? Getting ointment for a woman like that. She was a Chen. All Chens ever do is take what's never theirs. How would she be any different?
When I walked back to the bedroom, she was lying still on the bed. Her bruises seemed deep. If only she hadn't made a fuss last night.
***
Last night
"Please, you cannot do this to me. Hear me out," she said, tumbling back.
The two bouncers held her by her arm, as I watched her behave like a lunatic. Her droopy eyes and staggered gait gave away the fact that she was under the influence of something.
"What happened?" I asked one of the guys.
"She stole a hash brownie for our tray and gobbled it down. She might be hungry. And then, she tried to run away," he explained.
My brows furrowed.
This woman seemed to have a penchant for trouble. It would be ideal to shoot her in the head. Just like that scumbag, Kaifer.
Why did I save her?
"Layla Chen," I said, curtly.
Her hair fell to a side, revealing her neck. A small patch rested there.
Why did it seem familiar?
"Hey, Handsome man in suit! Do you know who killed my brother? He's supposed to be my husband," Layla said, with a hint of annoyance.
She struggled to get free from the hold of the bouncers.
"Leave her. She's my wife," I scoffed, as they let her go.
The makeshift wedding dress that Cant had bought for emergency, wasn't really a dress. We dropped the formalities of a dress since the marriage was a fake one.
And despite that, she struggled to be in her tube top.
"Come on, Little Dove. Don't stir up more trouble," I said, dragging her by my arm.
"No!" She said, jerking away.
Her ankle twisted, as her back plastered to the pointy decorations.
"Ouch!" She screamed, falling down as her bare back remained scratched. The point projections tore through the fabric, leaving bruises.
Dammit.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Ask Mr. Cant to come as soon as possible. I will take her to my room," I sighed, as she kept mumbling with her face plastered to the floor.