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Axel

I knew she was scared and shaken. The adrenaline was probably still rushing through her. I looked up at her, into her beautiful brown eyes. There was something so mesmerising about her.

She looked so perfect, sat on the grass across from me. If I could have had a painter to recreate her beauty there and then I would have. She twiddled with her long blonde hair, avoiding my gaze.

Her golden locks of hair were naturally straight, I knew that. She had curled them lightly today, she had to meet her parents for dinner, I knew that. She had bought that beautiful satin burgundy dress last weekend, I knew that.

She was so irresistible, she was fairly tall, 5'6 and a half, I knew that also. She had a beautiful figure, a thin waist and slightly larger hips, long defined legs and of course, that beautiful face of hers.

There was something so perfect about blondes with brown eyes. Her deep brown eyes were adorned with long lashes. She often kept her mouth slightly ajar when she had to think, her lips were so plump and soft, and a stunning shade of pink. That wasn't lipstick, I knew that too.

I looked deep into her tempting eyes, waiting for her eyes to meet mine.

Eventually, they did. The sparks that ran through my body revived me. I had never felt so alive.

"Listen Layla, this may seem confusing, if you have any questions, anything at all, please ask me. I'll always do my best to answer." I said softly, I tried to grab her hand but she pulled away softly.

"Where are we?" She asked, her gaze still cast to the ground.

That was definitely not a difficult question to answer. We were in my home, my property. The difficult part was telling her what country we were in. It may come as a shock to find out that we are in a different country, let alone another continent.

"We're in my home, this is my property, everyone here is employed by me, and everything here is made for you." I replied simply.

She sighed, almost relieved.

"The only thing is... we're in France." I continued.

"Wait. No that's not possible." She relplied, "How could we be in another continent? We took a car here. I would have woken up." She continued.

"Yes, that's true. Xavier administered you a small dose of a sedative to ensure that your transport here went as smoothly as possible." I explained.

"Oh."

"It's a lot safer here than in the United States. Especially in New York at the moment." I said while looking her straight in the eyes.

"And don't worry, I go back to the United States very often for work. You can always come along with me next time." I tried to make the offer sound as sweet as possible.

"You said it wasn't safe in New York. Why? I've never had a problem in New York." She said, confused.

"You would be perfectly safe in New York, I wouldn't be. You had to come to me." I spoke softly, trying to make her as comfortable as possible.

She stayed silent, playing with the grass around her.

A few moments went by before she spoke again, "So what am I doing here? In your home?" She asked. Her voice was so beautiful, so soft, it could nearly make me crumble.

"I've had my eye on you for quiet a while Laila. I know this isn't your ideal way to have met me. But I'm sure that with time you'll learn to appreciate my devotion." I spoke from the heart.

I had been observing Layla for a little over a year now. Finding out about her habits, her friends, her family, her school. I had men surveilling her at all times. I knew where her appartement was, I knew who she lived with, I knew where she went to school, who she went to lunch with, what her favourite meal was, I knew the names of all her childhood pets, I knew where her parents lived. I knew everything.

Now, the most important question that's been left unanswered is why I took an interest in her.

I was sat at the bar, in my usual chair, at my usual club. I knew what I wanted, I didn't even need to read the menu anymore. One of the new bartenders came towards me to take my order.

"Hi sir, my name is Layla, can I get you anything?" Her voice was so sweet, so pure.

I'm guessing that she had no idea who I was. Not many people know about the owner of the club. I examined her, she was breathtaking. Her brown doe eyes were looking at me so intently, it was intoxicating.

"Yes, I'll have a long island iced tea. Thank you." I spoke huskily, in a tone so commanding I could get the attention of anyone.

I always ordered the same thing when I needed to get drunk, a long island iced tea.

She nodded and walked away. I waited while eating some peanuts. I turned every once so often to look at the dancer on the stage or to greet someone I did business with.

She came back q few minutes later with my drink.

"Thank you... Layla." I spoke, I didn't know wether I wanted her to stay or to leave.

Luckily, she decided to stay, "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you with this question, sir. But I just need to know: where are you from?" She asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

I laughed, "Did my accent give me away?" I said light heartedly.

"I'm from France, it's very beautiful. Have you ever been?" I asked, wanting only to offer to take her.

"No, I never have. I've never left the States actually." She spoke loudly over the booming music.

"Well, I hope you get to visit the world soon." I spoke genuinely, I meant it. I wanted her to see the world. I wanted her to explore. I wanted what was best for her.

"Well, thank you for the drink, Layla." I said as I stood up from my chair.

I don't know wether she said anything, I was already walking away. The music was too loud to hear anything.

I walked towards one of the back doors, pushed it open and entered. Then I pressed the button for the elevator.

The doors opened with a ding and I stepped in. I pressed the button for the 15th floor. As the elevator rose up the building, I could only think of the beautiful bartended who had served me. I needed to find out more.

The elevator doors opened and I stepped out.

"Xavier, get me the file on one of the bartenders downstairs. Layla. Send everything over." I ordered.

"Right away, Chef." He said as he walked away.

Xavier was my only French employee in this club, it felt good sometimes to speak my home tongue every now and then.

I walked towards my office and pushed the door open with unnecessary force.

"Axel, ça fait plaisir de te voir." Said Jean-Paul, one of my closest business associates.

The door shut behind me, and I was shut out of this memory, and pulled back to the present.

"Why me?" Layla asked softly.

"You may not remember this, but in March of last year, I came into a club, 'The French Mob'. You were the bartender who served me. I had ordered a Long Island Iced Tea." I spoke, deep down I had a childish hopefulness at the thought that she may remember me...

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