Void | 18+

8 | selfish

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 

𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕

I was a selfish motherfucker. 

I knew it. And everyone around me knew it.

It was the only thing that got me the power, money and glory I have.

If I didn't need Alami for my own personal gain, I probably would have left her in the club for her friends to come and deal with her drunk ass or something.

The only reason I knew she was here was because Miles, the person I had following her, texted me that she had come to my club.

I only found her and approached her to make sure she signed the contract.

But then she had to go pass out in my arms.

I try to ignore the sweet floral scent I refuse to believe is coming from her and tilt my head at Miles, who is waiting near the wall to come and take her off my hands.

I hold her limply with dissatisfaction before her weight is promptly taken from me.

Miles lifts her up into his arms, with one arm braced under her head and the other under her knees, following me out to the exclusive parking lot.

He places her in the backseat of his sleek black SUV and gets in the front as I get in next to her so she is lying horizontally on the back leather seats beside me.

"You babysitting, boss?" Miles grins at me through the rearview mirror and I ignore him.

The only reason I put up with his overactive sense of humour is because he always gets the job done.

I push Alamis' head away from me with the back of my hand and make sure there is no physical contact between us.

I rub my hand against my jaw, sighing in frustration.

This business deal was supposed to be easy: blackmail the girl into marriage; get her to actually play the part so word would travel to her father that she was truly married to me; wait until her 23rd birthday in eight months; when her father would give her the assets of his company (which according to the contract,  her assets would be mine); use said assets to my advantage until I have ownership of his company and liquidate it into more wealth; divorce the girl or kill her, whichever was more convenient.

Yet, here I was dealing with the brat drunk in the back of a car.

My eyes trail back to her, taking in her now messy curly hair.

The first thing I had noticed about her was how she has a lot of fucking hair.

The tight curls were framed around her face and the three times I had been near her, my hands were itching to move the mess out of her face.

I did it with a gun the first time I saw her and I almost touched it today when she stared up at me with that fierce spitfire expression of hers, unaware of her dilated pupils and pale face.

Her face was still somehow settled into a frown as she slept. Most people looked peaceful in their sleep, but she still had a sullen expression on her face.

That was the second thing I noticed about her: the lack of life in her eyes.

Beyond the tenacious defiance, her eyes were almost... dead. It was like staring into a mirror of my own eyes, except that emptiness inside her was peeled away the minute I mentioned her mom. The distress that made its way onto her face, no matter how she tried to hide it, was just so satisfying.

I shake away the thought, my eyes focusing back in on her small frame. She slept cages in on herself, which made her appear smaller than she actually is.

Her mouth is turned slightly down in her sleep, and there are little creases around her eyes as if she's thinking hard about something. 

I tear my eyes away from her and look out the window, watching as the nightlife outside changes to the shitty side of the city where this girl lives.

I didn't like surprises. And this girl was shaping up to be more than one.

Miles drives fast; not as fast as me, but fast enough to have us back at her apartment within ten minutes.

He hauls her out of the back seat, and I trail behind him as he takes us up the elevator making some shitty joke about abandoned buildings and ghosts.

When we get to her floor, I knock on the door, getting a sense of deja vu when the redhead, Liv, opens it, her eyes trailing past me to her roommate passed out in Miles' arms.

"What the hell is this?" She asks, her eyebrows turned up.

Miles goes inside after I gesture him to, ignoring the redhead.

I lead Miles into what I remember to be her bedroom and watch as he gently settles her into the bed. I probably would've thrown her on it.

"Your friend got drunk at a club and we helped her get home," Miles says proudly, expecting a medal of honour. I roll my eyes. He only helped her because I ordered him to.

Liv's eyebrows turn down, "Dalia got drunk?"

He nods as I walk out of the bedroom, both of them following behind me.

"Huh," she mumbles, almost to herself. "That's weird."

I turn around, quirking an eyebrow. "Why is that weird?"

"I mean, I've only known her for a few months but Dalia never drinks," she says. "And I mean never."

"What does that mean?" I ask, stopping now that my curiosity has peaked.

"Like, she doesn't touch the stuff. Refuses every single time. And this is coming from someone who gets drunk every night," she says the last part with a smile as if that's something to be proud of.

Interesting.

So what made Alami get drunk today?

When back in the car, I log into the security cameras database on my phone, finding her tucked into a corner of the bar earlier while the bartender served her.

The motion is small. If I hadn't been zoomed in, I probably would not have noticed the moment he casually emptied powder into her glass while she was speaking to a man next to her who promptly got up and left.

That was probably their tactic: one distracts while the other roofies the drink.

Fucking animals.

"Miles," he looks at me through the mirror. "I want you to go to the bar and slit the throat of the bartender and his friend tonight. I sent you their pictures."

He nods.

I'd only known Alami for a day. But now that she was in my grasp, no one was allowed to touch her or torture her except me.

She didn't know it yet, but she's mine until I'm finished with her.

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