War

Chapter Four

A/N - couldn't help myself 😘😘

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Aniyah
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Unless Weston had an unreachable itch in his neck, I'd say the constant cocking of his head was a signal that he wanted to talk to me alone.

And although I'd rather stab my eyes out with a fucking fork, I complied, knowing this- me being in the vicinity of him I mean- would be a regular occurrence in a few weeks time.

Kill me.

I excused myself from the three-way conversation about a topic I couldn't give two damns about and slipped out of the room, falling behind Weston who led the way towards the living room. I purposely didn't try to keep up with his long strides, being close in proximity to him was something I didn't need right now.

"Close the door", I watched him move all the way to the other side of the room, only facing me when he was situated by the window, face set like stone.

"Why would I-,", I would've been all for it had he been somewhat attractive and a nice person, but he wasn't.

"The door, Niyah", who gave him the right to call me that?

Not in the mood for this bullshit, I did as he asked, letting it softly click shut before I faced him again; I could see his jaw grinding from here and had no clue as to what he was so pissed about.

"What is it? What's so important that you've gotta lock me away to say it?", I took a step forward, folding my arms and waiting expectantly. I didn't put this much effort into my appearance for him to look at me in disgust like that.

"What makes you think you can look at other guys like that?", excuse me?, "you're marrying me, are you not?".

"Not fucking willingly", I snapped, stepping forwards again, "who are you to-,".

"You're making me look like an idiot out there, Niyah!", he hissed, slamming the side of his fist against the wall beside the window- embarrassing, "you've stared at that Marco more tonight than you've ever looked at me".

And what did that say about him as a person?

"And?", I scoffed, looking him up and down as I took yet another step forward, "at least he's something to look at, you make me feel sick".

Before I could do so much as blink, he'd closed the short gap between us and grabbed me, slamming a hand over my mouth and pressing me up against the nearest wall. My heart hammered against my rib cage but I stood my ground, not breaking eye contact once as his chest heaved up and down, a storm brewing in his brown eyes.

"You think I want you either? Because I don't. I could probably get a better fuck out of one of the chefs but I'm stuck with you", he leaned closer, lips level with my left ear and blocking my view of the door, "as soon as we've tied the knot, you're mine, got it? I own you, Niyah, and you won't be able to do shit about it, you got that?".

"That's not very feminist of you", I jumped, trying to catch my breath when Weston dropped his hand in record speed, straightening up and fixing his already straight tie. Now that he'd moved back slightly and wasn't blocking my view I could make out the figure standing by the now open door: one leg crossed over the other, black tousled hair, bored expression on his face.