Painted Scars

Chapter 1

Gianna

"Make it stronger."

I purred, winking at the tattooed, tongue-pierced bartender. His hand worked fast as my eyes followed every move until he brought the glass close to my mouth. The fruity tasted shot got over enough of me to make the bold move of sipping from his hold. I licked my lips as he smirked while drinking the rest.

"One more round."

My best friend order up another round–on me. Grabbing my hand she moves over an empty seat, back down and arms draped around my shoulder.

"I bet he is mistaken if he thinks you're gonna book VIP."

She laughed out loud and waved at the bartender. I agree. One waiter approached us with our drinks.

"I need to get a man."

She mumbled as she eyed men on the dance floor with an impassive look. Her gaze finally settled on a man giving all snarky and dangerous vibes. Nothing about Perri is innocent, not like all being punished and ruled. She likes to have the upper hand with no privilege.

"Gotcha."

But before she made a move the guy stood and sprinted away almost as fast as he could. Strange.

"Racist"

"Probably narcissistic too."

I shrugged gulping the fruit rum. I almost moaned at the delighted flavor.

A cold shiver ran down my spine as a group of men followed the man's trail behind. I gasped. They all have similar tattoos, some kind of sign of being in a gang. One of them was clean-shaven, dirty blonde-haired barked orders over loud music to check VIPs and washrooms. Something shone from his waistband before he fixed his suit and moved forward.

Perry is clueless as me. Later, Adam got us to drive back home and the rest of the night was blurred.

The knocking of heels on the hardwood floor jolts me awake. I squeezed my eyes shut. Clutching my head I blinked my eyes to adjust to the lights. Throbbing pain from the hangover didn't lose yet. f**k, why did I have to flirt with that bartender? s**t. The last thing I want is my number in his pocket.

I again tried to open my eyes. I didn't expect her to be early this morning. Before I groan and stretch the door knob spins I turned aside to hide my face. Mom's steps halted.

"Is your clock running slow?!"

Mom was disgruntled. She had an old habit of sassing when she gets bloated with work. I guess it's something more than work. I sighed.

"What brought you here?"

I cleared my throat. My voice is hoarse and dry a bit.

"Clara got a call from an agent of the CEO of Marx Inc. They approached for an agreement with a compelling offer."

She grabbed my whole attention. Marx's? Ain't they do engine manufacture? Mother started tapping her heels, expressing I'm seriously testing her patience. Not a good move.

"Before I go further, get up and be presentable. I can't have a look at your swollen eyes."

Shocked, how she knew? I lowered my sheet and sat straightening my back. She touched the button and the curtains opened.

"Was you spying? "

She crossed her arms.

"Just put you in bed."

Shit, Never again. I nodded before I left for the shower. I need to do something with my hangover and dark circles too.

***

"What agreement and offer you said about earlier?"

Clara finished taking notes and Nora looked at me from her laptop screen as she sat on a couch crossing her leg.

"His client wanted the residential area of Chicago for the private land stripping of his Boeing 747. He is ready to make the highest bid even though he is offering money and terms to buy the mansion too."

Mom briefly said, closing her laptop.

"Should that concern me?"

Mother eyed me with a disappointed look.

"Be an adult and have a civil talk if you are not ready to sell. You both shared the estate as in papers. I don't think any of you originally had planned to sell but Ashton is willing to negotiate with you. Are you?"

There's nothing to negotiate. It's not the first time he is doing this to make his move again on me.

"I'm ready to sell."

I breathlessly said.

"Okay, then. I will arrange a conference with them."

Thank f**k.

"Can't they send papers?"

"Through a signature is required but your presence might be important. You have to be in Manhattan before five."

I set my lips on a tight line, just Great. Now I have to board a flight to New York for five hours. Why can't the agent come and get it?

"You will be done before Ashton arrives."

I nodded, I don't need his single penny though I'm not going to refund him for sure.

"Don't send Clara, I will be ready before Eight."

I ignored the stink eye Clara sent in my direction as I rubbed my forehead and checked my phone. I have less than twenty minutes.

"I will be out of town so Adam will be there to guide you and the video conference will be done within a few hours."

***

"Check the terms and conditions once again before you sign here. Once you sign this can't be redeemable."

I nodded before checking once and putting my signature on it. Sometimes cherished memories get scarred.

Clara had checked it before we landed here. I never easily put my trust in someone.

I wore a glass to hide the dark circles and eye bags.

"Enjoy the rest of your day."

I thanked him before I left the table to go to the washroom. Clara was waiting outside of Car. As I approached the door and pushed someone pulled at the same time. I glanced at the looming figure and immediately recognized, he is the dirty blonde guy from the club last night if I'm not mistaken.

He passed me without giving a single glance as he left for the dining area I was in with the agent and another man of similar age followed behind. He is rugged with tousled hair and a stubbled jaw. Same cold and stoic expression on his face. The prominent veins of his hand propped through his olive skin, impeccable.

He glanced my way as I looked away, his aura retains enigma, a man of a god-like face but evil-empowered.

Stepping out of the door I saw the white Bugatti. The door opened as Ashton Wilder climbed off fixing his tailored suit. He was sulking. The other side of his car opened as Jenna got down. Seeing her I enforced a scoff to swallow. Walking towards my car I found him staring at me, flashing him a smug look of triumphant I swung my car door open, fastened my belt, and slumped down lower.

I'm glad I was right on time. Today was exhausting and tedious but not wasted. The car slowly glided towards the road.

"That was Scar Maroney."

I frowned looking at Clara. Everyone knows who he is, mostly for his scandals and extramarital affairs.

Strange, Ashton and Scar being in the same place is anything but coincidental. They remained nemesis for years. One reason is enough to unleash on each other.

"You were ogling at Levi."

"I thought he was another guy."

I said leaving out the details.

"Mrs. Daphne had always spoken so highly of him. But all I see is an arrogant, filthy rich jerk."

Clara scoffed with an unpleasant look. I'm utterly confused.

"Scar Maroney?"

She nodded, passing me the sandwich in a zip-locked bag. I was in no mood to eat anything but I have to settle my stomach.

"What with him?"

I asked taking a bite.

"You have low acquaintance. He is Mrs. Daphney's grandson."

I almost choked on my food giving her an incredulous look. All my life I had known Gran as Daphney Houston.

"She had always used her maiden name."

When I met Daphne Hudson, She was an old lady who used to visit orphanages and did some charity work. She found me at the orphanage and decided to keep me in her foster care. Years later she got sick and left the city. After a long while she called me months ago and that was our last contract.

"Jenna chick managed to look like a stick as ready to stick."

Clara sniggered, flashing Jenna a middle finger. Jenna briskly turned her head away. Ashton still had his long face.

Ashton is sly and devious. He is passionate. The world finds him a role model. But to me, he is a good manipulator and selfish. One minute I was Goddess to him and the next moment he discarded me after all years I dedicated to him.

In a few words, he is one of my nightmares. And Scar Maroney is a con, calculating, sick and cryptic. Everything about him is twisted and cruel. He had been ruling NYC even after he brutally schemed the death of Major Conner years ago.

All of a sudden I feel dumb now. My throat dried. How I never came to know who bought the place. f**k, who's the CEO of Marx Inc.?

"Who brought the estate?"

I tried to act cool but all effort was in vain. Clara furrowed her eyebrows.

"Who else? Of course Scar Maroney."

An unsettled feeling piled up in my stomach, my blood ran cold. Why didn't mom concern me? Maybe I would have never agreed. I leaned back and tried a few deep breaths. But I knew,

"I think I'm gonna throw up."