Chapter 10
706 Words
Brittany's POV
"Hey, babe, drinking alone? How about I drink with you?"
His nasty breath made me gag as he yanked me back against him.
"Don't be so shy. Drowning your sorrows? I know how to make you feel better," he leered.
Gross. This creep wouldn't take a hint.
Then, his sleazy hand slid down, aiming for my ass.
I cursed under my breath, trying to break free.
"f**k OFF!" I snarled.
Yet, he dragged me toward the door where his buddies waited. My blood ran cold.
Shit. Flashbacks of prison hit me like a truck. Those monsters...
Desperately, I looked around, but no one noticed my plight.
The music was too loud, and everyone was lost in their worlds.
I was on my own. Again. No help coming.
"Play nice, sweetie. Just come with us, and we'll make it quick..." His hand was already moving upward, dangerously close to my breast.
A familiar dread engulfed me, just like in prison. No, I wouldn't be a victim anymore.
I grabbed the nearest bottle and smashed it into his skull.
As the crash echoed, shards of glass scattered, and his blood trickled down his forehead.
"b***h! How dare you? I'm gonna f**k you hard tonight!" he roared.
He yanked my hair back, fist raised.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but the hit never landed.
Then I saw - A muscular arm stopped him cold.
"Starting trouble in my club?" A deadly voice cut through the chaos. "Big mistake."
The crowd split faster than lightning as he walked in.
"OMG! Look who's here!"
"No way. He's actually here!"
His arrival caused quite a stir, and the entire bar erupted into a frenzy.
I turned to see his brooding eyes locking onto mine with a cold, direct gaze.
He was dressed in expensive attire, with golden buttons on his cuffs glinting in the dim light.
His lieutenants and bodyguards, each with bulging muscles, looked fiercely intimidating.
They scanned the room like predators hunting prey.
Jesus! Next to the muscular, tall, and dangerously graceful Reginald, I felt like an utterly wretched beggar.
No wonder everyone was freaking out. His presence alone made it hard to breathe!
Looking at him again, I had to stifle the gasp in my throat, just as I had when I first saw him in the villa today.
The rowdy gang naturally recognized him and turned ghostly pale, scurrying away like scared rats.
I watched in disbelief as he slid beside me.
When he casually leaned in, my heart nearly stopped.
This is the second time he's saved me.
But why did he save me?
I shifted my gaze away, but I could still feel his scorching eyes upon me, as if drilling a hole into my arm.
"Th... thank you..." I stammered.
But he suddenly seized my arm, examining the tattoo on my collarbone.
It was a blue butterfly.
He remained silent, yet I could feel his intense stare.
Abruptly, Reginald asked, "This... tattoo?"
I looked at him, bewildered.
I couldn't fathom why he would suddenly bring up the tattoo.
He seemed to gasp, his gaze turning profound and solemn.
"When did you get this?" Reginald tightened his grip on my arm, and pain spread.
I bit my lip, meekly answering, "About... seven or eight years ago, I think."
The exact time was hazy.
I only remembered getting it after returning to the Sullivan family.
Sharon had mentioned the fear of losing me again, so she had a blue butterfly tattooed on my collarbone.
Why was he so fixed on my ink?
Did the butterfly tattoo hold some special meaning for him?
Suddenly, his gaze turned skeptical.
Then, my legs gave way, and I collapsed backward. He swiftly turned to catch me, my face landing against his chest.
My body trembled with his touch, and my consciousness began to blur.
Was it the booze? Or sheer fear?
The scene before me started to whirl, my knees weakening.
No, something was wrong!
The room spun as liquid heat pooled between my thighs.
Fuck! The drink had been drugged!
I pressed against his solid muscles, desperate for friction. My skin was on fire, aching for his touch.
All I wanted was him inside me! Now. Hard. Deep.
- Writer
