FAKING LOVE (completed)

CHAPTER FOUR

ILYAS

"Mr. Ilyas?"

I stopped midway, glancing over the receptionist with a bored look. Why did I even let Mom talk me through this and hire my cousin? I can't shout at her whenever I want to, not even when she does something wrong! That's unfair.

"Yes?"

She quickly got out from behind the desk in her extremely tall high heels and nervously chewed on her bottom lip. She had a talent of eating her lipstick in less than a minute, which really was kinda gross.

"The rowing machines were delivered in the morning. I couldn't find you so Mr. Danial signed the papers and received them. Would you like to have a look?"

Ah, the rowing machines for my very own gym that was located on the fifth floor. "Sure, I'll go check it out," I nodded.

Change of plans. I can't have a damn good cup of coffee now.

Once in the elevators, I decided to check the 'formals' floor first, the fourth floor, after which I could go to the gym and actually spend some time in there to gain some muscle. Lately I've been very careless in maintaining my bod.

M&D was founded by my Mummy when I was just a little baby. She used to tell me stories of having these phases of wondering what a sin it was to show the world even an inch of her skin. Not that she wore shorts or crop tops, but sometimes the ankle would show or the wrist when she had to raise her arms.

She started to stitch her own clothes. Modest and decent. Perhaps this is from what she got the idea of giving the boutique this name. The amount of energy and effort she put in establishing it was remarkable.

Dad had left us years ago, before I could even learn to walk on my own. I never talk about him, because what good am I doing to myself by the reminder of him?

Anyway. Life got busy. I grew up, only to be turned into the gamer boy—Danial's words not mine—who just cannot stand the thought of being faithful to only one woman. And for the rest of my life?

Pfft. Impossible.

Everything was perfect on the fourth floor. Usually the customers would come at evenings, and because the winter formal was just around the corner, loads of High School girls would come here to shop.

Or maybe just to eye me and my best friend.

Just saying.

The gym was only for me and my chosen people, eg Danial and my other mates. This wasn't for the customers.

I changed into black shorts and a white tank vest, jammed the ear pods inside my ears and cracked up the music to the point where I wouldn't probably make them bleed.

Starting off with a steady walk on the treadmill, I pushed the button and increased the speed up to 8 points. I usually had it till 7 but that woman for the interview has me still pissed off.

Though, I don't know what pisses me off more; her beauty or the fact that she is seems a religious person.

Just twenty minutes through, and my legs were burning. I jumped off after hitting the stop button, not waiting for the belt to fully stop. Crouching over, I gasped for breath and felt like puking.

"Why do you torture yourself like this?"

My head shot up. Sweat dripped off my hair onto the mats, and I pushed the hair back off my forehead feeling pissed again.

"I thought I had made things clear, Sasha. We," I waved a hand between us, "can not happen."

Sasha was my PA. She did a good job of keeping me off track and acting all cute and flirty around me. But her swooning and capturing me in her fist didn't quite work out for her. Instead it backfired on her and here she is now, fired from this job.

"I know you still love me." She looked hot in a pink short dress that showed off her long tanned legs. "And that you still want me." She closed the distance between us, and raised a hand to place on my chest.

I didn't let that happen. Grabbing her wrist midair, I applied pressure to show her that I was not in the mood.

"Get the hell away from me. And stop texting Danial. He might be my best friend, but I wouldn't listen to him and take you back as my assistant. We already have hired someone," I lied. Well, not quite exactly. Maybe Danial had already hired her.

She smiles. I hate the black lipstick she always wears and the black powder always dusted on her eyelids. She is just so dark from both inside and outside. Why exactly had I liked her?

"You promised to marry me," she announced.

I laugh humourlessly. "Had I really promised to marry you, Sasha?" She wriggled free from my death grip on her wrist, lips pressed together.

"You did."

"No. I never did. We both have different religions. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't have married you. And trust me, all desire—if there was ever even some—of making you mine has long gone."

Her eyes flashed. "You suck. I hope you never be happy in your life."

"Get the hell out," I pointed behind her, at the elevators. "If I ever see your face again, if you put a foot in my personal space again, I'll ruin you." Her eyes pooled up, but I literally couldn't care more. "You know I am a man of my word."

She spun around and all but ran towards the elevators. I hope she understood I really wasn't kidding on the 'ruin you' part.

I turned around—the 'ding' sound came again.

At this point, I lost all my temper and turned around ready to shout at her.

But the words died in my mouth when I saw the lady for interview standing there, fumbling with her hands as she nibbled on her bottom lip.

I knew it before she even had to confess.

"Just remember, being my PA comes with a price," I called out.

She met my gaze, looking confident. "Yes, Sir."

I turned away from her, the grin crawling up on my lips.

The game has just begun.

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