The billionaires addiction

Chapter 1 Frustration welled up in my chest like a bucket of vomit waiting to be emptied out as I watched the chaotic scene in front of me. I’d landed a decent jab on the guy's bicep, but it barely fazed him. He was like a mountain that towered over me. The only human-like feature on his face was a mask of rage, which made him look like the night king. His thick fingers wrapped around the bottle of beer he was holding. This was a bad idea, but it was too late to turn back. "Just give him back his damn money, Ella!" I yelled, scanning the room for my friend. But Ella was gone; she vanished into the throng of sweaty bodies like a wisp of smoke. Coward! The man lunged, the beer bottle glinting menacingly in the dim light. I ducked, the glass smashing harmlessly against the wall behind me. Adrenaline surged through my veins, momentarily drowning out the throbbing pain in my knuckles. It was at moments like this that I was grateful for the self-defense classes my mother’s crazy ex made me take. It is sad to say that was the only good thing that came out of him. I sidestepped, aiming a punch at his stomach. It connected with a satisfying thud, sending him stumbling back. But he recovered quickly, making me take hasty steps backward. Fueled by anger and cheap beer, he roared like a madman, charging towards me. Alcohol impaired his movement as I easily blocked his clumsy blow with my forearm, the sting of pain radiating up my arm. Gritting my teeth, I countered with a low kick, catching him right below the knee. He roared in pain, dropping to his knees. Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek pierced the air. A woman with a worried face pushed her way through the crowd, clutching a phone in her hand. "Security!" she screamed. I turned to look at the source of the voice, and the man saw his opening. With a sudden push, he threw me off balance, causing me to hit the floor hard, knocking air out of my lungs. I watched with clenched teeth as he scrambled to his feet, a triumphant grin splitting his face as he snatched a bulging wallet from his back pocket. He didn't even spare me a glance as he bolted towards the dimly lit exit. I lay there, gasping for breath, the taste of blood on my tongue. The crowd parted around me, some offering concerned glances, others simply returning to their drinks. The woman with the phone hurried over, her face etched with worry. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. I shook my head, the anger burning hotter than the pain in my body. "No," I croaked, "but I will be." I pushed myself up, ignoring the curious eyes glued to my form. “Don’t you dare put your filthy hands on me.’’ I yelled at the gruff-looking bouncer, who had come to drag me out of the clubhouse. There was no way I would be dragged out of here easily. I wasn’t the one who started the fight, but, of course, I was the poorer and easier one to kick out. My eyes scanned the room for my best friend, who had abandoned me the moment the fight escalated. Why was I not surprised? After all, Ella always did that—run away and leave me behind, even though I acted in her defense. I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as tears stung my eyes. I am currently the center of attention. Everyone was watching as the crazy girl was being dragged out. I shook my head and blocked it all out, Anna Mae. You are used to the stares already. I glared at the overly meaty bouncer, who was holding my arm in a deadlock. I wouldn’t blame him. It took him close to three attempts to drag me out. The cold night air was the first to greet me, as I felt my body flying in the air before my buttocks connected with the cold pavement floor. Pain traveled up my arm as I felt my wrist twist in an ungodly way. Turning to look at the work of Satan standing in front of me, I cussed him with all the pain I felt. “I hope you die a slow and painful death, you pathetic s**t. "You don't throw a lady like a bag of potatoes; go hang yourself!" I gritted out, the pain in my wrist a dull throb against the white-hot anger. The bouncer, a mountain of a man with a shaved head, didn't even blink. He just stared at me like I was a particularly annoying insect. Flipping him the middle finger, I used my right hand, the one that wasn't throbbing, to push myself up. My left wrist felt wrong, like it was made of jelly instead of bone. Great—a sprain at least, maybe a fracture. Fantastic!" I sighed. The cold night air hit me like a slap, stealing the heat from my body and replacing it with a bone-deep chill. The weak glow of the distant streetlights barely penetrated the darkness of the parking lot, with shadows dancing and twisting like phantoms at the edge of my vision. The rustle of leaves and the creaking insects sent a fresh jolt of fear through me. I wasn't just angry anymore. I was scared. Desperation gnawed at the edges of my bravado. I needed to get to my car, find Ella, and get out of this deserted nightmare of a parking lot. The hair on the back of my neck prickled like a thousand tiny needles. It felt like someone was watching me—a cold, unseen presence boring into my skull. I spun around, my heart hammering against my ribs, searching the darkness. The parking lot seemed to stretch out endlessly, a maze of empty cars and menacing shadows. There was nothing. Or was there? A twig snapped somewhere behind me, the sound sharp and sudden in the oppressive silence. My breath caught in my throat, and a primal scream ripped from my lungs. A dark figure detached itself from the shadows, a menacing silhouette against the faint glow of the distant lights. A rough bag was yanked over my head, plunging me into suffocating darkness. Strong hands clamped over my mouth, stifling the rest of my scream. A sharp prick on my neck sent a jolt of pain through me, followed by a wave of dizziness.