The Billionaire's Whispers Of Pleasure

Chapter 18

I sent my resignation letter to the store where I was working as a cashier. I didn't know it would make me sad, but I only took that job because I had to save up, and I already have more than what I intended to save. The next day, I'm not used to being free during the day, plus Luz has moved out of the state, so I'm currently in my room searching for a website where I can enroll for shooting classes.

My eyes fixed on the phone, I'm gnawing on my nail, and my legs are crossed together. There are a few shooting schools near me, but I'm considering the reviews and the benefits. Turning my phone off, I fall back onto the bed and look up at the ceiling after enrolling myself. I have already sent the down payment. It's a monthly subscription. If I don't learn fast, I might consider going for a yearly subscription. I chose three hours a day. And it might change depending on how slow or fast I learn. It will only be Monday-Friday classes, and from nine a.m. to twelve p.m.

I push myself to a sitting position and stand up. I will start the classes next week, so I'm free for how many days except, of course, at night. I leave the room and take a shower; afterwards, I call Nail as I'm putting on a silk dress. He answers after how many rings, and I grimace in disgust at the sounds that welcome me from the other line.

“H-hey, f**k. Ah.”

“I think I'll just call you back later,” I say and quickly hang up. I wanted to treat Nail to the Asian restaurant as I realized I never said thanks to him. I mean, part of what I have right now was all because of him, and he's been good to me ever since, but I didn't expect him to answer the call while in the middle of having s*x with someone. My phone rings across the bed just after I put on an ear accessory. Giving myself a scan, I pick up the phone from the bed and answer the call.

“Hey, I'm sorry about earlier. Why did you call?” Nail asks. I can still hear him heaving up and down. He must have called me quickly after they finished.

“It's okay. I was wondering if you were free today.”

“Oh, yes, I don't have anything to do today. Why?” he responds, and he must have muted himself because it suddenly turns quiet on his end, but I respond nevertheless, “Well... I was thinking of treating you to a restaurant.”

He unmutes himself and responds, “Oh, I'd love that, Val. I'll pick you up in an hour.” There is excitement in his voice.

After bidding goodbye, I give myself a once-over before reaching for my clutch bag on the bed. Less than an hour later, Nail arrives at the apartment, his face beaming as he rolls down the window and compliments me, “You look wonderful, Val.” He then opens the door and walks around to open the passenger's seat for me.

“Thank you, Nail.”

Nail slips back into the driver's seat and turns his head to me. “Why did you suddenly want to treat me?”

“It just dawned on me that I haven't been thankful for what you did for me,” I say, smiling.

“I'm moved, Val, that you appreciate me, but everything that you have now is all because of you. It's no one else's hard work but yours,” he says, and I have come to appreciate him even more.

Nail backs the car out to the highway, and before long, we arrive at the restaurant. Nail leans over to me and unbuckles my seatbelt.

“Thanks,” I utter, and I pretend to not notice the way he looks at me. He leans off, and we both slip out of the car. In truth, I have other reasons as to why I wanted to meet with him today, and I don't want him to get the wrong idea.

We find an empty table in a corner, and we sit across from each other. A waiter walks up to us, greets us, and asks what our order is. I tell Nail to get me whatever he wants to eat. He obliges. After the waiter has written down our orders, he tells us it will be served in twenty minutes.

Nail loosens his necktie before saying, “What do you plan to do? As much as I don't want you to leave the bar, I know that the time will come when you will want to.” Nail must have thought I was planning to resign. It did cross my mind when I received my first payment from Rocco—it was really tempting to leave everything behind, move to another state, and start over, but the bar is now part of my life, as it makes me the person that I am today.

“No, Nail. I will not leave the bar no matter what. Though, I did resign from my cashier job,” I respond.

“See? Once you get a lot of opportunities, Val, the bar will become a burden to you, and you will have to let it go,” he responds honestly and realistically.

“Then, if that really happens, I want to enjoy my life while I'm still at the bar.”

Nail smiles at me. “Honestly, I regret that I led you to him...”

He wants to continue what he's saying, but he shakes his head and says, “Forget that I said that. I just really want the best for you, Val.”

“I know, Nail. You're the person I've been looking up to. Your success is all due to the person that you are and how you are to the people that surround you. You know what you want. You're strict when you have to be, and you lead.”

Our food arrives exactly twenty minutes later. Everything that I said to Nail is true. And I'm glad that I got the chance to tell him that.

Nail wipes his lips with a napkin before saying, “Thank you, Val. I'll think of this as our first date. Honestly, I've been wanting to ask you for a dinner date, but I never have the courage.”

I roll my eyes. “I would love to have dinner with you. I mean, as long as it's nothing more than a friendly date, I'm cool,” I say straightforwardly, and I notice the smile on his face wears off, but he quickly puts it back on.

“I want to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly,” he utters, his throat bobbing up and down.

“Okay. What is it?” I ask.

“If I pay you the same money as what that man pays you, will you let me f**k you?” he blatantly asks.

“No,” I answer quickly. He raises his eyebrows, surprised at how quickly I said no.

“Well, I've known you for how many years already, and I think of you as a great friend,” I explain.

“Okay. So, if you don't know me for that long, will you let me f**k you then?” he asks, and I'm getting uncomfortable in my seat.

“Depends on the situation, but I would probably still say no. I mean, I don't really know the answer to that question,” I say, pouring myself a glass of water and sipping on it. Nail must have noticed my discomfort, as he says, shaking his head in disappointment for himself, “I'm sorry. I should not have asked you such questions.”

“It's okay, Nail. But I have a question for you, too.”

“What is it?”

“How much do you know, Rocco?” I ask.

“I only know that he is not a simple man, and he's dangerous. That's why I said I should not have led you to him,” he answers, his eyes on the food before looking up to me. Nail seems to be telling the truth.

“And do you know anything about how much I'm paid and what's in the contract?”

“I know how much you're paid initially, and if you're paid again and how much, that I have no idea. I'm paid, too, for letting you guys use the bar. And the contract is between you and him, so everything is really a mystery to me. You actually know more than what I know about him.”

“He once came as a customer before we talked about what he wanted. He might have seen you perform,” Nail continues.

Nail and I finish eating minutes later, and we leave the bar after I pay for the food. Nail offered to pay, and he insisted, but I declined, and he didn't have a choice. On the way to my apartment, Nail asks if I want to go somewhere else, and I utter an excuse that I have to do something, and he doesn't push the idea anymore.

Nail falls into silence for a few minutes before he opens his mouth and says, “About what I asked you earlier, I'm sorry. I did not mean that. I don't know what's gotten into me.”

I reach for his leg, rub it with my hand, and flash him a smile, “You're good, Nail. I know you didn’t mean it.”

I see him clear his throat and glance at my hand on his leg. When I realize what I'm doing, I quickly take it back. I don't mean to lead him on, but that might translate to him wrongly. I just wanted to comfort him so that he would not feel bad about it anymore, but what I did might have worsened the situation.

When we arrive at the apartment, I smile at Nail to show him my appreciation, and he smiles back before saying, “Thanks, Val. I enjoyed the food. It was my first time eating something different, and I didn’t expect I would enjoy it that much.”

“It's my favorite restaurant, actually. I've been there multiple times.”

When I'm about to unbuckle the seatbelt, Nail leans in, and when I turn my head, our lips collide. My eyes enlarging, I attempt to pull back, but Nail suddenly holds my arms tight and moves his lips across mine.