THE SUDDEN SOUND OF THE STRANGER'S VOICE STARTLED ZAIRA, CAUSING HER TO FREEZE IN HER SPOT. But once Zaira's eyes met hers, her brain short circuited.The stranger's eyes were like the autumn months, the stare from her amber eyes crisp, but yielded a foreign feeling. No longer could she keep her facade up, the stoic mask she permanently displayed was gone, replaced by utter shock. It could just be from the fact that the woman had figured out that, what happened behind this particular closed door, wasn't the same as what happened behind the other closed doors. Yes, that could be it. That was the story Zaira would stick to - not like she would need to tell it.
Out of all the women Zaira had seen in her 25 miserable years on earth, this woman was a far cry from all the prim and fake ones she had gotten used to.
The stranger stood there, cigarette in hand, wispy smoke trailing from her tan fingers, rising past the tight fitting vest that was snug over her crisp white dress shirt, all the way up to her cocky smirk and finally to her magnetic eyes that pulled Zaira in. It was the first time Zaira had seen a woman in a suit, and boy did she wear it better than any man she had ever seen. Even Fiero, and he was considered a gift from god, but for her, it was more like a punishment.
"My ego wants me to believe that you're staring because of my dashing looks. But the rational part of me over powers that, leading me to believe that you're catching flies because I saw your little secret," chuckled, voice rich like black coffee, words flowing with a sharp husk to it.
At once Zaira shut her mouth, snapping herself out of her trance and bringing herself back to the cold hard reality. The woman might not know it, but her ego was correct, Zaira wasn't staring at her in surprise, hell she had even forgotten the fact that she just killed a man.
But now the stranger knew what she did, and what she looked like, and if this woman held an ounce of the power she portrayed, Zaira was in deep shit. If it was anyone else in her position, they wouldn't believe that someone who was clearly not from around here could do any damage to them, whether it be physically or not. But Zaira was smart, she knew better than to dismiss this woman as a potential threat. With that, like second nature, she lifted her skirt and grabbed the gun in her garter before pointing it at the woman before her, all in one fluid motion.
In hind sight, that skirt lift could have had a totally different meaning.
But the other woman wasn't naive, her gun already out and pointing at Zaira, eyebrow raised in a questioning manner at the woman before her.
"If you think I will give you money to shut up about this, then you are sorely mistaken," Zaira hissed, still not completely caught up with the situation.
Once again the smirk arrived on the woman's face, confidence oozing off her in waves, "And if you think you can shoot me and walk away you too are sorely mistaken, ya amar."
"Don't be so cocky."
"Cocky? I would have thought the Crimson Lady would have noticed the gun pointed at you," the woman taunted, the initial entrapment she had around Zaira diminishing with each word that came out of her mouth.
"I do notice," Zaira spat, eyes glued to the woman like a mouse in a glue trap, all the while praying to stall long enough for the reinforcements to come.
"Oh please. Not my gun, their gun."
"If this is some kind of trick to catch me of guard then you're failing miserable," Zaira muttered, hand turning white from her crushing grip on her gun, all because of that tiny little doubt that crawled in her head.
Could she really have been that distracted, to miss one of her principal rules?
"I really didn't think you are this dumb. There is literally a person sitting over in that chair, with a fucking gun pointed at you, but you don't believe me?" the woman sneered - well, at least that's the way Zaira heard it.
Tentatively, she turned her head ever so slightly, just enough to peak down the familiar long corridor and out to the seat where a woman casually sat, cigarette in hand, but gun pointed straight at her. As if the woman sensed her presence, her eyes caught her in the act, twinkling with mischief and excitement.
"Shit," Zaira muttered under her breath, cursing herself out for not noticing sooner, reluctantly turning back to the woman, forgetting that she broke her cardinal rule numero dos.
And it was all because of that stupid smirking goddess.
How could she be this fucking careless to not notice that? Well, she might have been a little....... distracted. If she could find some way for them to stay in the club for a couple more minutes, then she would have them outnumbered. But that would she would have to distract them, not the other way around, which was the way this whole evening was going.
"Why don't we take a stroll outside. I heard the night sky is crystal clear tonight. That and, we wouldn't want your friends to come and ruin our little chat," chuckled the woman, the velvetey veil of her voice lifted, giving small peak at the alluring foreign accent behind it.
Shit.
"No."
"I wasn't asking, rouhi."
What's with all these names?
Zaira's first instincts should have been to just fire a shot at her and then once people came running, she could just say that the woman ruined her perfect night when she came and killed the man she was spending time with. The staff would no doubt support her cover story, as they were the ones who would help dispose of the body later today. It would have been a perfect way to escape from the situation.
But Zaira's instincts and rational brain went out the fucking window when this gift from god came into her view. She knew that she should be trying to do anything to get the fuck away from the asshole who had a gun pointed at her, but she found herself too distracted to even think about that.
She was just so ....... different. Most women she saw these days would have layers of makeup caked on their face, trying to live up to the standards men wanted them to be above. Not to mention how content she was with herself, she didn't seem like the type of woman who needed to constant validation, especially from men. Someone who wouldn't take orders from anyone. Which was a trait Zaira wish she had right now, as she sighed, following her order like and turned to walking out through the back door, straight into what could be her death.
A smile had lit up the woman's face igniting a small hunger in Zaira, a want that she didn't even know what it was for. Maybe it was the way the woman looked at her, sending shivers down her spine, but not out of fear, more out of excitement.
But all Zaira really wanted to know was, what the hell was she doing?
☾
I apologize for not updating a lot quicker.
In the future I will try and write a shit ton more chapters so I could post more regularly.
But life's kinda hit me like a truck rn so I got a lot of stuff to do.
Idk didn't like the ending too much but its whatever.
I will try and post two more chapters today soooo.
And thank you @herbaltea17
ily u puta. thanks for all the help.
But anyways, pls vote and comment. Never thought I would do that but there's a first time for everything.
Anyway gday yall.
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𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐀