Chapter 43

Y A S M E E N

A group of men come in and drag the women's bodies away, leaving us alone together.

"It hurts... It hurts everywhere, Marcus," I cough up blood as I speak.

"Shh, I know. I know." He leans down to press his forehead against mine, the tip of our noses brushing slightly. "It's going to be okay; you're going to be okay."

I raise my hand to softly to touch his face. He looks so disheveled, poor Marcus. "Your hair's so fluffy," I say as my hand slowly trails to his hair, running my fingers through them. He grabs my hand and places it against his lips, leaving a soft kiss. Then, he rests his cheek against that hand. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you,"

"I would say it's alright but it's not. Look where it got me," I pout teasingly. His expression turns grim, and I quickly inform him that I'm kidding. "It's okay, really. I couldn't believe myself when the woman showed up."

I can feel my consciousness slipping away as my arm limps in his grasp.

"Just hold on just a little longer. Don't let go, please," he pleads with me. He sounds cute when he's concerned about me.

I flutter my eyes open, fighting to keep them open just for his sake. "Marcus," I say his name. He searches my eyes, wondering what I'm going to say. "Come closer."

He leans in close, our foreheads touching again. His hand in mine as I hold it against my chest.

"You looked hotter than usual back there," I giggle weakly. Yes, he scared me half to death when he wouldn't snap out of his merciless state but there's no denying that he looked edgy. "Murderous rage really suits you."

"Yasmeen..." he groans in disbelief that this is what I manage to say in such a wrecked state.

"I'm not kidding!" I add. I lower my voice to say the next bit, "My clothes would've flown off and we would've ended up in a completely different room if it were up to me." I grin as I watch Marcus's eyes widen. I love teasing Marcus. I live and breathe just to tease Marcus to his limit. It's so exciting to watch such a stoic and composed man lose his composure for a moment. He goes deathly quiet, and my grin quickly turns into concern. Did I push it this time? I quickly touch his cheek to soften the mood, "Hey, I was just teas—"

"If you keep this up, Ms. Yasmeen Yasin," his lips brush against my exposed ear, "the next time I see you, I'll have you pinned against the wall fucking you senseless."

My jaw drops open, and I think I gasped? I'm not even sure if I gasped. Maybe I made an inhumane sound. If I had enough energy, I'm sure my hand would've slapped my mouth in absolute shock.

"That's what I thought, my little dove. Don't speak so loosely unless you're ready to match my energy," he says quite casually.

The immense blood hadn't managed to make me pass out, but his words are definitely about to make me lose my sanity.

"I'm going to need a moment," I say as I feel my eyes roll back, going almost limp in his arms and I'm finally met with darkness.

• • •

Y A R A

"Did you take your medicine?" Elijah asks.

"You should've knocked," I state, ignoring his question. I turn around to roll my eyes at him.

"You should—" He stops mid-sentence to look me up and down. "You clean up nice."

"Keep your eyes to yourself before I decide to pluck them out," I say as I turn back around to finish placing my earrings in.

"My eyes should be the least of your worries. Philip's going to have a field day with you tonight."

"And I won't hesitate to grab a butter knife and gut him," I mutter.

"Where was this energy when Alejandro treated you like this?" He raises a brow.

I laugh darkly. "That was when I had the will to live. It's amusing how freely I can express myself when death doesn't scare me."

"Oh? Really?" He asks.

"Really," I confirm. "Sure, the idea of death is frightening but the reason I'm not afraid of when Death may come to get me is that I'm assuming, the afterlife may treat me better than I'm being treated in the world of the living."

"You believe in the afterlife?" What's with his silly question?

I raise a brow and look at him in almost disbelief. "What do you think?" I say, pointing at my hijab. "Enough nonsense, when are we leaving?"

"In an hour," he says. "Philip will be here to pick you up."

"I'm not sure how this night will end so I want to ask you a question, if you don't mind answering," I say.

Elijah nods for me to proceed.

"Who do I remind you of?"

His eyes widen. "What makes you think you remind me of someone?"

"Alejandro had told me that I probably remind you of someone that all of you used to know," I say quietly. "Though he never went into detail and I never pushed the topic for privacy's sake."

"Meredith," he says quietly, "you reminded me of Meredith."

Elijah goes on to explain how Alejandro, Marcus, Amelia, and himself grew up around Meredith. According to him, she was soft-spoken and sweet yet deadly when needed to be. She had fiery red hair that had a mind of its own, her smile was like looking at the brightest star in the sky and her voice sounded like silk. From the way he's talking about her, there's one thing that's clear: she was everything to Elijah, his whole entire world was her.

"She was like a little sister to Alejandro. To him, Yasmeen probably reminds him of Meredith," he says. "I could tell from the way he would act around her."

That would explain Alejandro's behavior towards Yasmeen. He would always try to protect her and keep her out of harm's length. He always asked her to stay out of trouble because she had the tendency of getting herself into problems. In fact, now that I think about it, they had a sibling-like rivalry and banter. How did I not notice that before? My envy blinded me from seeing past the cover; I'm disappointed in myself.

"That's probably why Alejandro was also keen on giving Yasmeen that penthouse suite. It used to be Meredith's but after her demise, he refused to rent it out to anyone else until Yasmeen."

Here comes the throat-burning question, "What happened to Meredith?"

Elijah's eyes darken. "She was tortured and murdered all because of Alejandro. I pleaded with Alejandro not to send Meredith in for negotiations, but that stubborn bastard never listens to anyone. I lost the one woman I loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life with. All because of him."

"Is that why I'm here? For you to exact your revenge on him?" My voice is slightly shaky.

"Precisely," he confirms, making me feel cold.

"Except you're unsure yourself if Alejandro cares for me enough for this to work," my thoughts are uttered out loud.

He's silent for a bit. "I don't know if that motherfucker can ever care about anyone enough to gamble away his wealth and title, but I know he'll try and I know he'll suffer, even if it's by a hair." With that, he storms out of the room. The remainder of Meredith was obviously a bitter memory for him. No matter how messed up the situation is, I wish someone loved me as much as Elijah loved—loves Meredith. He's ready to turn the world upside down for her even after her death.

"Okay, but why bring me into this?" I mumble to myself in annoyance. "If I reminded him of Meredith, shouldn't he try to protect me instead of trying to throw me in the same fire she was burnt in?" These men make no sense, none at all. I hate men.11

The door swings open and three men enter Philip, being one of them. "Don't you look fascinating tonight," he comments with a sick grin on his face.

I look him up and down, he looks good too but, "And you look like you could've done better. Shall we get going?"

He strides toward me and I don't flinch back. He grabs my chin and aggressively lifts it up to so I can meet his gaze. "You better keep that pretty mouth of yours shut or else I'll have it wrapped around my cock instead."

I raise a brow. "I'm not very good at blowjobs. You might want to ask someone else. I heard Elijah's a great cocksucker." I smirk.

Philip only laughs. "You're just as twisted as Alejandro."

"Yeah?" I challenge him. "Well, do you think I learned it from?"

He holds out his arm for me to hold, "Shall we, princess?"

I walk ahead of him, ignoring his arm. "Respect my boundaries and I'll respect your plans, Philip."

• • •

I stand in the corner of the room, holding a glass of water in my hand. I honestly feel sick, the smell of everything is overwhelming my senses because of my anxiety blasting through the roof.

"Looking for someone in particular?" Elijah asks, leaning against the wall beside me.

I scoff slightly. "I'm sure I'm not the one on the lookout. All of you guys look like you're on the edge more than me."

"Alejandro is a dangerous and calculating man. There's no shame in being too careful around him." Suddenly, he goes silent for a second before saying, "Speak of the devil."

My eyes shoot up to see Alejandro walking into the room. The whole room falls quiet as his mere presence brings about fear in everyone. His expression is cold and indifferent. My chest stings as I watch him walk right past me without giving me a look.

"Alejandro, it's a surprise to see you all the way out here," Elijah says, making Alejandro stop to turn around to look at him. He still hasn't glanced over at me, it's almost as if I'm invisible. "Wouldn't you want to say hello to an old friend?" Elijah says, standing back to put the spotlight on me.

I try my hardest to keep my expression blank, emotionless and unattached. I lean against the wall, my arms crossed over my chest. In reality, I want to jump him, scream at him until my voice is gone, I want to kiss him, and push him off a cliff all at the same time.

He glances over in my direction and nods in acknowledgment. I roll my eyes and look away.

"I'm guessing you're not here to take your precious fiancée back?" Elijah almost mocks him.

"No, why would I be?" Alejandro's voice is flat. "She's of no use to me if she's been tainted by someone else."

This bast—

"You really are a heartless bastard," Elijah chuckles, taking the words right out of my mouth. "No worries. She's settling along with Philip really well, aren't you, Zara?"

I swallow the acidic feeling stuck at the base of my throat and shrug my shoulders.

"Where is he? I'm bored and I need someone to entertain me."

The second the words leave my lips, Alejandro's jaw clenches, and his eyes darken. The expression appeared just as quickly as it disappeared. I smirk knowing I hit a nerve, no matter how small.

Elijah raises a brow slightly, not expecting me to truly play along. He points at the other side of the room where I can see Philip socializing with a group of people.

"I'm sure he can entertain you in many ways."

"I'm sure he can," I say. "Excuse me, gentlemen." I walk right past Alejandro without sparing him a single glance. My bored expression fixed solely in Philip's direction.

I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I want to drop dead—no, not me—I want everyone here to drop dead. I want these men dead. The satisfaction I'd get from driving a knife through the hearts of every single one of these bastards. If I get just one chance—I stop dead in my tracks as I try to figure out if I'm starting to hallucinate at this point.

"Yasmeen...?" I whisper. It's her, it must be her because she's looking right back at me wearing the same expression. She's standing beside Marcus, looking at me as if she saw a ghost.

Just as she was about to bolt into a run, Marcus grabs her hand, stopping her from taking any steps toward me. That's when I notice her arm is bandaged in gauges while a smaller band-aid is covering the left portion of her forehead. The white gauges are peeking through her sleeve enough for me to be able to tell they go far up her arm. Philip, I think to myself. It had to have been the threat Philip gave me. Why was I naïve to think that the threats were empty? Why was I so stupid? I'm grateful that Marcus is holding Yasmeen back because God knows I'll break if I hold her in my arms. Everything in me would be crushed to pieces if I see her up close.

I look away, my expression stone-cold. I storm off to Philip, grabbing the sleeve of his suit. "Please excuse us for a moment," I give his social group a small smile before pulling him away.

"Had a change of heart, Zara?" He smirks. "I'm sure we can find an empty storage closet around here somewhere."

"Shut it, Philip." Anger is spewing out of me. "I asked you I'd only play along if everyone around me stays unharmed."

"Oh? Did you now?" Noticing that I'm in no mood for games, he switches to his serious tone. "It is true, I did send someone to dispose of the problem. However, to be fair, I sent someone before we made any deal. Besides, I heard your friend put up a ruthless fight, and ultimately, her boyfriend saved her."

"Boyfriend?" There's genuine confusion in my tone.

"That tattooed Asian guy standing there isn't Yasmeen's boyfriend?" He gestures at Marcus.

"I—No?" Or at least, I don't think so.

"Hm... Interesting," Philip says, observantly.

"Why is it interesting?"

"I have eyes and ears planted everywhere, princess," he informs me like I care. "I've been told that the man had been violently distraught finding Yasmeen in whatever state he found her in. The person I sent for the—" he pauses to find the right word, "—the job was found with at least eight bullet wounds in her body; three antemortem and five postmortems, and all coming from that man's gun."

"As in three right before she died and five after she died?" I ask, clarifying it for myself.

He nods. "If that doesn't scream unadulterated rage, I don't know what does."

I'm thankful, so very thankful that Marcus showed up on time. If I ever get a chance to speak to him under more normal circumstances, I must thank him. At this point, I owe him my life for saving someone who's worth more than I could ever be.

"I see Mr. Genovese is not enjoying our close proximity," Philip comments.

I look up to see Alejandro's gaze on us. I can feel the rage emitting from his presence, every inch of his body is stiff. I couldn't help but smirk a little, how does it feel to be in my shoes? I give him a small wave, taunting him further.

Philip pulls me a little closer to him, making me frown. "Put on a show, princess."

"Don't push it, Philip," I grit my teeth, putting more space in between us.

"We'll need to push every button on that man until he self-destructs," he says.

I only chuckle, shaking my head in amusement. "Alejandro? Self-destruct? That's something I'd like front seats to."

"Oh, princess. You already have front row tickets to this chaos," he says tilting his head to motion for me to look forward.

I look up to see Alejandro walking toward us, everything about his stance is screaming bloody murder. I look around a little nervously, maybe I pushed it a bit too much.

Once he reaches us, he puts his champagne glass down on a table nearby. "Enjoying yourself, Zara?"

"I am," I answer.

"Funny, I thought you never enjoyed social gatherings before," he comments with bitterness.

"That's because I was never around the right people," my words burn him. "Good company can make a big difference, Alejandro."

Philip stifles a little, my comment must've caught him off guard.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen. I must go find good company elsewhere." I walk away, leaving the two men to figure their stuff out.

I head to the bathroom because I start feeling a little lightheaded from all the courage I built up when I was literally shaking in my shoes. Upon entering, I notice how fancy and lux a mere washroom is. Though the room is dimly lit, it is sparkling clean, putting my soul at ease.

Once I reach the sink, I hold onto the edge hovering over it. I look in the mirror and I notice I seem different. I look like I've been through Hell and back multiple times, my appearance holds no warmth and kindness that it once did. I stand there for minutes, I assume. The music is blaring outside but it's muffled in here, making the lyrics sound slower, more sensual.

The washroom door slams open, making me jump. My eyes widen as I notice Alejandro standing in the doorway, his expression nothing less than resentment and displeasure.

"What are you doing here? This is the ladies' washroom—"

He locks the door behind him and walks up to me so quickly that I didn't have time to think. He pushes me against the cold tiles and dives in for a kiss without a word. He pulls off my scarf and throws it aside while knotting his fingers into my hair, pulling on it roughly. His kisses are full of the anger and frustration he had built up as he swirls his tongue inside of my mouth. When I close my mouth to deny him anything further, he sucks on my bottom lip and bites it hard. I groan against his mouth, tasting the bitter metallic as my lip stings. His hands explore every inch of my curves until he lifts my dress and rests his hand in between my thighs.

He finally pulls back, his hand still in between my thighs making small circles. My legs feel like jelly, and unable to hold up my own weight, I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

"Did he touch you?" His voice is heavy.

I only whimper in response because his fingers move in waves.

"I asked you a fucking question. Did he touch you?" He asks as pulls off the midi-leggings I was wearing underneath.

"W-what if I say he did?" I dared. "What if I say he touched me in ways no one else had? What will you do about it?"

An almost guttering animal-like growl escapes his throat, leaving me terrified. He rips off my underwear, sliding two fingers into me, vigorously forcing them in and out. "I know he didn't touch you like this, my love," he whispers hoarsely into my ear.

"A-Alejandro!" Rather than a protest, his name slips out as a moan. Hearing him say 'my love' so sensually after so long makes me go weak at my knees. Gosh, my body yearns for him, craves him, desires him, and I hate it.

He pulls out his fingers before I could finish and licks the juices off them. His angry expression is still as present as ever on his face, he's far from done. He undoes his belt, pulling down his pants enough for his very erect dick to hang out.

My cunt is throbbing as he rubs his hard cock against my clit. He smirks, "Your pussy's dripping wet for me, my love."

Desperate for him to put it in me, I wrap my hand around his cock, gently stroking it. His eyes roll back for a second as he moans out my name, "Zara..."

"Put it in me, Alejandro. Please," I say breathlessly. He roughly grabs my face in his hands, pulling my face closer to his. "Beg me to fuck you, beg me to fill you up with my cock," he says as he continues to grind his erect cock in between my legs.

"I'm sure you remember how."

Impatience makes me throw aside my ego. I place my hands on either side of his face, hovering my lips an inch over his. "Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me until I can't remember anyone's name but yours."

He pushes me further against the wall, pulling up both my legs to wrap around his waist as he thrusts into me. "Oh, yeah? You like that?" He grunts.

I whimper in response, kissing him feverishly, passionately, filled with hate and lust. He continues to thrust himself in and out of me, pumping every inch of himself into me.

"He can't fuck you like I can," he breathes heavily. "He can't make your pussy this wet—this desperate—not the way I can. Your body wants me, it needs me and only me, Zara."

"I hate you," I say, not sounding too convincing as I gasp for air.

"Fuck," he grunts with every push. "I wanted to pound into you against the wall for so long."

"I hate you!" I say louder.

"That's hot," he grins against my lips.

I can feel his thrusts become more unsteady as he comes closer to the end. "Say my name, Zara. I want to hear you moan out my name while I fuck your pussy. I want to