Purify Me

17

EPISODE 17.

Michael POV.

Her breath was as soft as a feather, yet it sent shivers down my spine. I carefully laid Diana on my bed, taking a moment to observe the sleeping beauty sprawled out before me. She was a mess smudged silver eyeshadow, lip gloss barely hanging on, and a slight tremor in her hands. Cute, in a disheveled kind of way.

I needed a cold shower, badly. I peeled off my clothes and headed to the bathroom, the image of her passed out in my arms still playing in my mind.

When I returned to the room, wrapping a towel low around my waist, the bed was empty. I frowned, scanning the room. *Where the hell did she go?*

Before I could fully process the thought, a searing pain exploded on my forehead.

CRASH.

I turned my head to the left, already furious, and there she was. Standing on the sofa like some pint-sized warrior, holding the empty canne bottle she’d just cracked over my head, and wielding the remote control in her other hand.

I crossed my arms over my bare chest, the pain already settling into a dull throb. I watched her next move, ready to subdue her, but what she did next completely threw me.

She pressed the remote. Music loud, obnoxious, bass-heavy club music suddenly filled my penthouse suite.

Then, she started to move.

Diana followed the beat of the song, swinging her hips left and right. The residual effects of the drugs were clearly turning her into a tiny, uninhibited cyclone. I swallowed hard, my gaze fixed on the way her waist moved. Her body was surprisingly flexible, and all I could think was how much I wanted to pin her down right there and kiss the hell out of her—or maybe more.

The little chubby was putting on a show, and the flimsy, tight dress only made things worse, shamelessly showcasing curves I hadn’t noticed before.

I relaxed slightly against the bed, leaning back and just watching the performance. This was gold. I snatched my phone and started recording my "princess" twerking for me.

*This is your chance. Take advantage of her. Make your move. Sleep with her, record every episode of the intimacy, send it to your friends. Win the five million and toss her aside.*

The dark, sinful thought was loud in my head as my gaze greedily scanned her body, every movement sparking a primal, urgent need.

"Maybe I'm drunk too," I muttered, trying to shake off the dangerous heat building inside me.

Diana stopped her erratic dancing, gave me a slow, deliberate wink, and then moved closer. Her movements were now slow, deliberate, almost professional like a stripper trying to entice a mark. I found my hand settling automatically on her waistline as she moved dangerously close, right into my personal space.

"f**k princess, never knew you are a stripper," I chuckled, pulling her onto my lap. Her body heat radiated through my skin where our hands met. "Well I guess, I do know now. I hope I am the first to know this, because I won't take it lightly if others know."

I drew her closer, my lips brushing her ear, tasting the edge of her fear mixed with the intoxicating scent of the club and the sweet drugs. I gently bit her earlobe, eliciting a soft moan that nearly broke my control.

"I think I should be calling you," I whispered against her skin, a dark, possessive claim forming in my mind. “My seducer."

She was right where I wanted her. The rules were simple: she was a means to an end. But as her hand tentatively touched my bare chest, the warmth of her palm against my skin felt less like a winning ticket and more like an electric current. This wasn’t just about the money anymore.

~~~~~~

Author POV.

"What did she say?" Sia asked, her voice high-pitched and laced with dread. The noise of the club, once a background thrum of excitement, now felt deafening and hostile.

"She was mumbling before the call got disconnected," Bryan replied, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ground together. His anger—fueled by carelessness, regret, and a terrifying sense of loss—was driving him nuts. He felt the weight of the situation crushing him. Sia, on the other hand, was equally frantic. She blamed herself; she had been the one to convince Diana to come out, and now Diana was gone.

"Maybe we should report it to the police," Sia suggested weakly, twisting her hands together.

Bryan rounded on her, his eyes blazing. "What about Aunty? What should we tell her? What should I tell her? That her daughter is missing?" His anger began to surge past his control, and he stepped closer to Sia, crowding her. "Answer me, Sia, what should I tell her f***ing mother!" he yelled, the force of his voice scaring the worried girl into shrinking away.

"Bryan... we will surely find her, just calm down, you are scaring me," Sia mumbled, a sob catching in her throat.

Bryan inhaled deeply, fighting for control, forcing the rage back down. "I'm sorry, Sia, I'm just..."

"Worried? I know. But anger won't solve anything." Sia's words, though simple, grounded him momentarily.

"So what should we do about this situation now?" Bryan asked, his tone finally leveling out.

"I have a plan," Sia announced, a sudden, desperate calculation in her eyes.

"What plan?" Bryan frowned, suspicious of her sudden confidence.

"Since Ms. Rita trusts you more than others, why not give her a call and tell her that Diana will be having a sleepover in my house? I'm sure she won't doubt you, and she won't have any idea of Diana's missing. That will give us more time to look for her."

Sia's suggestion was a dangerous deception, and Bryan hesitated, frowning as he weighed the immediate benefits against the moral cost.

"You mean I should lie to her mother," he chuckled humorlessly.

"Well, do you have a better idea?" Sia challenged, glancing around the oblivious club.

Bryan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay then." He had no better idea, and time was critical.

---

Bryan stepped away to make the call, the phone feeling heavy in his hand.

"Sleepover?" Rita asked through the phone, her voice carrying a maternal warmth.

"Yes, Aunty," Bryan lied smoothly, forcing cheer into his voice. "She was so excited that she drank a whole bottle of wine then she... went all off..."

"Oh... is she all okay?" Rita's tone immediately sharpened with worry, making Bryan close his eyes in a brief pang of regret.

"Yes, she is all good, maybe a little," he reassured her. "But it was high time to handle."

"Hmm. Please take good care of her for me, and send my greetings to Mrs. Adron."

"Sure, Aunty." The call ended, leaving Bryan feeling physically sick.

He turned back to Sia, his face grim.

"So...?" Sia asked, raising an expectant brow.

"So, let's find her.”