FILTHY DESIRES

I clutched the negative pregnancy test; my hands were trembling uncontrollably. I have been scared since the night I spent with Axel, feeling a lot of pregnancy symptoms. I stared at my pale reflection in the bathroom mirror, auburn hair dishevelled, green eyes that were once swimming with disbelief and panic. It was just one reckless night of mind-blowing passion...that's all it took. Axel is Manhattan's most eligible billionaire bachelor and CEO of Vortex Ltd real estate empire. He had sculptured features that belonged on the cover of a magazine and not between my tangled sheets. His whiskey eyes had devoured me with undisguised hunger across the crowded club, a week ago. ‘’You're coming home with me tonight, Violet.’’ His growl rippled over me; a sinful promise that made my knees weak even now as I remembered it. One mind-blowing, earth-shattering, heart-stopping night of primal desire. His searing touch branded my flesh as if I belonged to him. Flashes of stark white sheets tested around our naked bodies, his tongue and lips exploring every inch of me. Our silent moans fill up the air. ‘’Just a fling,’’ he mumbled in that delicious baritone against my slick skin. ‘’No strings, and no expectations.’’ But there I was, my life crumbling around me. I was merely a starving artist, scraping by on meagre tips and commissions, while Axel was in a world of wealth and power that I could not fathom even in my next life. My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my tortured reverie. It was my boss at the art studio where I worked part-time. ‘’Violet, get here now!’’ he barked without preamble. ‘’The Davis commission is turning into a shitshow.’’ Panic gripped me, he was never like this unless something was really up his ass. Whisking my towel off, I picked my outfit, a purple Lycra short-sleeved top, and black high-waist jeans, tying my hair up in a bun, I ran out of my apartment. Twenty minutes later, I hurried through the doors of the studio's lobby, chest heaving. The pungent aroma of oils and solvents filled the air as I followed the raised voices and commotion toward the back studio. Several artists clustered around, their expressions ranging from second-hand embarrassment to undisguised glee at the unfolding drama. At the centre of the chaos stood Mr. Vaughn, one of the most prestigious patrons. Mr Davis, my boss gestured me over urgently as I took in the sight of a half-finished painting in harsh slashes of pink and black, clearly not what the commission had requested. ‘’ I need this sorted out immediately before we lose the Matthews family for good.’’ he hissed under his breath. Taking a deep breath, I pasted on my most professional smile and stepped into the powder keg. I approached, Mr. Vaughn who was very furious, but was trying to project a calm and reassuring demeanour despite the turmoil churning inside me. ‘’ Good afternoon, sir, I’m Violet, one of the studio's artists here. May I be of some assistance?’’ The heavyset patron spun toward me, his jaws quivering with barely restrained anger. ‘’ This...’’ He gestured wildly at the abstract piece. ‘’ This is not what I commissioned for the new hotel lobby at all! I wanted something bright yet elegant to welcome our guests, not these scribbles. It is embarrassing.’’ I risked a glance at the artist responsible, Darius, who stood glowering with arms crossed like a petulant child. I am always cleaning up after him. Placing a soothing hand on Mr. Vaughn’s sleeve, I murmured, ‘’ Please sir, let us discuss this rationally, I am sure we can find a solution that satisfies your needs.’’ He opened his mouth to protest, but I pressed on. ‘’ why don’t you share your original vision with me? maybe there is something we can do about it’’. I flashed Darius a quelling look. As Mr. Vaughn spoke, I nodded and made affirming sounds of understanding, from my peripheral vision I could see Mr. Davis’s thunderous expression starting to clear. With the tantrum diffused, I exchanged relieved looks with my boss, who gave me an approving nod, but despite successfully smoothing things out with Mr Vaughn, the incident that happened proved to be the final straw for Mr Davis. He called me over to his office. He turned around his chair, now facing me, his face looking stern, ‘’ Violet, you are a very capable artist, but you do not seem to have much control over the people below you and these dramas are starting to hurt our studio’s reputation with patrons, we cannot have that any longer.’’ He sighed heavily. ‘’ I'm afraid I have to let you go. We're going to be downsizing and can't afford any more mishaps.’’ The news landed like a punch to the gut, stealing my breath. I simply nodded mutely, too stunned to say anything, as he outlined my severance details. This job, as stressful as it could be, was one of my only remaining lifelines. As I trudged home in a daze, my free hand drifted unconsciously to my still-flat stomach. At this point, I wished that the pregnancy test was positive, it would have saved me a lot of stress, and probably been a miracle. I had bad luck with a lot of things, it’s like there is a constant storm cloud over my head constantly.