"𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠."
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 - A twenty-year-old woman with goals and ambitions working in the mafia. She's got people she dislikes but no...
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I could feel my blood boiling as I watched Naomi from the other side of the club. I didn't mean what I had said, if I could take it back, I would. In a heartbeat. I had a shitty day and took my anger out on her rather than facing the actual problem.
The way her hips moved against his angered me. She looked so good. The man's hand wrapped around her waist and I could feel my fist clenching.
She then suddenly made eye contact with me. I could see the blood draining from her face but I paid no mind to it, more concerned as to why she was dancing with a random guy. I caught her eyes a few more times before I decided to walk over to her, taking a long drag of my blunt.
I can't say when all this started. Maybe it was the night of the wedding, maybe it wasn't. However, I haven't been able to take my eyes off Naomi. I didn't see her as the woman who stole millions of dollars from me and that scared me like shit.
When I got onto the dance floor, something came over me and I walked up to the stupid guy, punching him across the face. Naomi immediately backed away as the guy groaned in pain. She bent down to try and help him but I grabbed her wrist, "don't."
I bent down to the man's level and brought out my gun, shoving it by his temple. "Stay away from her or, one of these bullets..." I pointed to the side of my gun with the blunt in my hand, "...are going into your skull."
He nods in pure fear and I get up. For a very muscular man, he sure is a scaredy cat. Shoving the gun into my pants, I grabbed a hold of Naomi's waist. She slaps my hand off of her but, I still manage to escort her out of the club.
When we get out, the cold air engulfs me immensely. I walk over to my car and turn to see Naomi, bringing a cigarette to her lips. She stands in front of me, a little smoke leaving her mouth. "What the fuck do you want?"
"Who is that guy?" I question, getting straight to the point. Jealousy was burning the walls of my chest and I wanted it out immediately.
She scoffs, "that's none of your business, Mr. Petit. What do you want?" She takes another drag of her cigarette and I grab it from her lips, taking it out and stomping on it.
"Enough with that." I sigh, she places one of her hands on her hip and rolls her eyes. She tries to take ahold of my blunt, but I move it away, lifting her chin and directing the joint to her full lips.
She looks up at me with intensity as the smoke emerges from her lips. She gives me a lazy smile when she's done and relaxes onto the hood of my car. "Big fan of that hydroponic stuff, huh?"
I lightly smirk, "you know it's healthier and safer than organic weed."
She snickers, "with all that bourbon in your office I highly doubt you give 2 shits about your health." I laugh in response and she leans in for another drag, "I certainly don't."
