Divorced and Devoured: Wanted by my Ex-Husband and His Rival

3

Jessica

I didn't go to my own bar, the Onyx Lounge, because walking into that place bought with Michael's blood money would have killed me. Instead, I entered the bar opposite it.

I sat at the corner of the bar, staring at the olive at the bottom of my fourth martini.

"Well, if it isn't the tragic fallen heiress."

I didn't even have to turn around to recognize the nasal voice of Clara Arynn, a woman who had spent the last three years desperately trying to secure an invitation to my summer yacht parties.

Clara was standing there with two other socialites, looking me up and down with barely concealed glee. Well, someone was happy at my misery.

"Clara," I muttered. "I hope you can see that I am rotting in silence and misery? Will you now be a good girl and SCRAM!"

"We were just talking about you," Clara said, taking a sip of her champagne and completely ignoring my rude tone. "I heard Michael didn't just throw you out; he cut up your black cards in front of the entire office. Tell me, Jessica, how does it feel? Having to finally breathe the same air as the rest of us?"

The two women beside her let out giggles.

“Aww. Look at you wearing Zara, not Dior?” Someone said.

A week ago, Clara would have kissed my ass and complimented even the rags on my body. Now, she was looking at me like I was trash left on the sidewalk.

"She's speechless," Clara smirked. "Careful, Jessie. You look pathetic."

"And you look like you’re trying too hard to impress a woman who doesn't even care that you exist." A husky, masculine voice suddenly silenced Clara.

A man stepped out of the shadows and leaned his elbow against the bar right beside me. He was a young, handsome man with joyful blue eyes and a pair of devastating dimples. His dirty blonde hair was tousled, giving him that carefree look. He looked like a rogue but a civilized rogue… if that makes sense.

"Excuse me?" Clara bristled, though her eyes immediately widened at his obvious beauty. "Who are you?"

"Someone who hates bad manners," he replied, giving her a dismissive and devastatingly charming smile. "Run along. You're ruining the view, Cinderella’s evil sister."

“You!” Clara could not even find words, but I ended up laughing at the use of his hate-endearment.

“Don’t you know how you shall talk to girls?” Clara asked him.

“Girl?” He looked confused and then asked the girl next to Clara, “Do you see a girl here? I only see an evil shape in front of me?”

“Huh…”Clara’s friend could not say a word.

“You are ridiculous!” Clara said. “I will see you both! Go to hell!”

“After you, Evilie.”

Humiliated, Clara grabbed her friends and practically fled to the other side of the club.

The man turned to me. Up close, he was breathtaking. There was a warmth radiating from him, a dangerous kind of approachability that made my alcohol-soaked brain short-circuit.

"You shouldn't let the vultures circle, you know," he said softly, signaling the bartender with two fingers. "They smell vulnerability like blood."

"I am blood," I slurred, resting my chin on my hand. "You shouldn't sit here. I'm bad luck. Highly contagious."

He let out a chest-deep laugh that sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. "Is that right?"

"I'm a newly divorced, fallen heiress, though I have yet to sign the papers … but I know I am divorced… at least from my heart," I warned him, "My sister is dead, my life is a joke, and I don't even have my own apartment because the police seized all the assets. You're barking up the wrong and miserable tree."

He didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned in closer, invading my space in a way that felt thrilling rather than threatening. "I’ve always had a terrible habit of picking up stray royalty. I'm Leo."

"Jessica," I whispered.

“A very beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” Leo murmured. "And for what it's worth, I don't think you're pathetic. I think you're hurting, and you have every right to."

My breath hitched. Nobody had asked me how I felt. Not since Janet died. The empathy in his voice cracked something open inside my chest. I wanted to hug him and tell him about all of my sorrows…

"You're very charming," I breathed, feeling dizzy. "Are you always this nice to tragic women in bars?"

"Only the ones who catch my eye the second I walk in the door," he smiled, his gaze dropping slowly to my lips.

Suddenly, I swayed forward on my stool, and the alcohol hit me in a wave, but Leo’s hands were instantly on my waist, steadying me.

"Careful," he whispered, his face inches from mine. His eyes darkened, and the playful flirtation shifted into something intense and hungry. He looked like he was a second away from kissing me, and God help me, I wanted to forget. Micheal. My life. Everything…. But I cannot. I should not. I am still married, and I am not Michael!

Before he could close the gap, something buzzed in his jacket pocket.

Leo closed his eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. He pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. "Damn it. I have to take this." He looked back at me, giving my waist a gentle squeeze. "Don't move, Jessica. Promise me. I'll be right back."

He offered one last lingering look before stepping away toward the hallway.

I turned back to the bar, my heart doing a strange and frantic flutter. Why did he have that effect on me?

I picked up my fresh drink—a glass of amber liquid the bartender had set down while Leo was talking—and took a long sip.

A minute passed.

The ice in my glass started to look blurry. I blinked hard, but the room suddenly tilted. A strange, suffocating heat crawled up my throat, much hotter and heavier than alcohol.

"Hey there, gorgeous."

I slowly turned my head. It wasn't Leo. It was a man in a gray suit, sliding onto Leo's empty stool. His hand immediately dropped to my thigh.

"Let... go," I tried to say, but my tongue felt paralyzed.

"You look tired," the man grinned, his breath smelling of weed. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling my limp body against him. "Let's get you out of here, huh? I've got a car outside."

I tried to push him, but my arms wouldn't work.

I was trapped.

Someone, please help me.