Mated To The Beast King || ON HOLD||

Chapter 1

Maia p.o.v

I groaned for the umpteenth time in what seemed like hours, but merely twenty minutes. Twenty long, agonizing minutes of my entire life, exaggerated. But damn, the wait is making me have double thoughts about this date.

Ten more minutes, and I'm out of here if he still hasn't arrived.

I glanced at the restaurant for the second time since I got here. It's one of those fancy restaurants herein

Everyone here appears to be rich. One glance at them, you can tell that much about them. Even those in casual clothes still looked expensive. It might come out unreal and unbelievable, but everyone in this town appears to be wealthy.

Like one of those movies we watch, when the town/city deals with social ranks? Yes! That's what this town looks like. There are the filthy wealthy ones, average ones, and the normal wealthy ones.

There are hardly any poor people here, which is good but somewhat unbelievable. I mean in New York City, where I lived before coming here, there are estates for rich people, those places are distinguished and exclusive to just anybody, and downtown for the poor ones. There're some homeless people on the streets too, but this place is seemingly well managed. I give it up to the government or whoever is ruling this place.

Well, I wasn't left behind, I was in plain blue boyfriend jeans, a sleeve white turtleneck crop top, and white sneakers to compliment my look. Even in the baggy boyfriend jeans, my slender waist, and my wider hips with my big backside still stood out.

I'm considered slim, but my hips and butts are not. And I'm not in any way insecure about my body, I feel proud of it.

Knowing that I would die of boredom if I didn't get distracted, I started rummaging through my white Chanel bag. The bag is portable enough to carry a few of my cosmetics.

I brought out red nail polish, cleanser, and a watercolor base coat.

I start my work by wiping my nails first with the nail's dissolver, then begin applying a thin layer of the primer and letting it dry out for a few seconds.

My phone rang while I was reaching for the base coat. I glanced at the phone on the table and grinned when Gina's name flashed on the screen. I pressed the button on the airport in my ear, receiving the call.

“Hey, babe.” I took off the base coat and resumed my work.

“How is the date that lacks my support going?” I don't know why, but Gina was totally against me going out on this date, but I don't blame her because so am I.

“Hmm.” I hummed, too focused on my work.

“What do you mean by Hmm, don't tell me that the werey is not there yet.” I rolled my eyes at the term Gina chooses to use on my lover boy.

In case you haven't noticed, my dear friend Georgina, preferably Gina, she's a Nigerian. Yes! The Giant of Africa, as she would boastfully describe.

She never ceased to throw in her Nigerian slang in every sentence or phrase that comes out of her mouth.

“No, the werey isn't here yet, and I will be out of here in less than five minutes.” I picked up the red nail polish, and carefully and gently applied it.

Don't get me wrong, Derek is a masterpiece of a person. He could pass as a model.

He was adored by fairer beach-sand-gold hair, that looked soft and silky. His crescent-of-moon thin and narrow eyebrows sat upon an imperious nose, and angular cheekbones carved down towards a flinty jaw.