Chapter 47 : Rotten Ginger

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❁ When the love is real, it finds a way. ❁

Nora's POV -

" There's nothing left to say Joe, that man is a male bitch. Bloody liar arsehat. " I rant through my airpod while throwing my clothes into the trolley bag. As much as I loved this city, I don't want to stay here a minute further.

" I already warned you, he just acts to be a husband material but on the inside he's a cruel, fucking piece of shi-- " I couldn't completely hear her because of the doorbell of my hotel room that someone just rang.

Opening the door I see a figure that I really do not want to see right now. " See, I appreciate you sharing your feelings with your ill mannered friend but I certainly do not appreciate being cursed, which is, for about an hour now. "

You think I have a damn to give you right now?

" So? " I pass a bored look. " At least I didn't back-bitch, actually no, front-bitch you to your landlord making you homeless. "

I couldn't care less if he could hear every single word I said. To be honest, I wanted him to hear everything since he's staying in the adjacent room. " Noriana, love... " his lips let a sigh escape before turning into a smirk, " You do not want to piss me off, believe me. "

" Oh, if that's the case, can I just say that I bloody hell hate you. You are annoying, bossy and dominating. You are a fucking liar. Your cologne smells like feet. You look like a bloody octopus in all your photos. " I belt rattling in his cage.

Heaven knows how satisfying I find his mad and displeased face. His pale skin turning into a darker shade of red, and I internally smirk. " And your hair looks like a rotten ginger. " and...that's it. I'm done.

I should not have gone there.

A thing about Hans Nicholas Anderson, never, I repeat, never say anything bad about his hair.

Inspite of the terror that I feel on the inside, I try to maintain the badass bitch face. He takes a deep breath before starting to move closer creating an urge in me to step away from him. He takes a step forward and I take the same backwards.

My attempts of eyeing him, with pleading eyes as though begging him to stop, fail miserably because he keeps getting closer.

" So my hair looks like ginger, huh? " he asks in his husky voice, still making steps towards me.

" No..." with a little pause to clear my throat, I continue, " ...they look like rotten ginger. " and I smirk, which was potentially a wrong move. It only fed fuel to his wrath.

" That's it. " he bends to wrap his arms around my thighs just to throw me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.

" Hans! Put me down! " I slap his back.

" You asked for it. " he grits.

I'm actually scared. It's not like I've never seen him this angry, I've always like to piss him off. But back when I was his assistant he used to overload me with pile of work everytime I would made him mad. I don't know what will he do now.

Taking me downstairs, he finally puts me down right in front of a car where a man in black, who is Hans' bodyguard, tapes my mouth, blindfolds me, ties my hands behind my back and makes me sit on the backseat of the car.

Is Hans kidnapping me?

I can feel the car hitting the road about 70 miles per hour. " Is someone going to tell me what is happening? " I groan angrily through my taped mouth. Thus, I, of course, could not form a legit sentence.

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