Chapter 20 Elevators of Mishaps

Songs for this chapter are:

Drown - Lecrae ft John Legend

Iba- Asa

New Fourth of July - 1k p-son ft 1k phew

Soweto Blues - Juls, Busiswa

I just wanted to say something really quick! This book just hit 3k readers and it has been topping the charts in autobiography for about two weeks now! I'm really thankful and I definitely feel blessed that my achievement is radiating the number of efforts I've been putting into this story! I'm very grateful! My special thanks go to Jkaloko a very devoted reader whose comments give me reasons to keep going. I'm so thankful to have you as a reader because you have made me smile constantly seeing how willing you are to support me! I'd definitely do the same for you and even more ❤️

Cassandra

I am just about getting into the storeroom to get hold of the document that I need Mustafa to sign for me so it would be sealed that all of his property would be mine and no one else's after his demise and just when I open the door to the secret storeroom, I feel a pair of strong arms grab me out of nowhere, slams the door and locks it behind me.

Next thing I feel is those arms grabbing me and pushing me against the wall- or the thick wood of a shelf rather since the storeroom is full of shelves and then those arms rip open, the top button of my dress.

I struggle, screaming dolorously for someone to help me when those grotesque, calloused palms cover my mouth strongly. I hear my own muffled cries and just when I am about to dig my nails into his cheeks to rip some of the flesh apart, I am graced to see who the assaulter is.

The storeroom is a gloomily dark place, containing wide and high shelves, stacked with various perforated files, dog water cartridge papers, and odors of old papers and books making the hairs in my nostrils prick up. Okay no—my brother and I had just established this company so there's no way these files could have gotten old so quickly. That must be my hallucinations at work.

I could have switched on the torchlight on my phone whilst walking into the place but I'm guessing my bag fell off my hand when those arms got irresistible, attacking hold of me.

The only reason why I was unable to defend myself the last time when I was in a dangerous, life-threatening situation as this was because I was in my car and I could not make many movements to defend myself but over the years, Mustafa and I had traveled to Japan, a remarkable number of times to learn martial arts and karate.

I took it upon myself to learn some defense mechanisms for the safety of my life but I've never really had the chance to practice all I had learned because life has always proven to be a bigger predator.

The only amount of light that allows me to get a glimpse of the creep is very minimal; it's the small obscure light peeping through a tiny window space that manages to stay above the helplessly dark storage room.

Through that radiation, I am quickly able to mark out his features: thick interlocks of brown and black hair, red mosquito spots on his face, giving a pinkish shade under the light resting on the left side of his face, and that hazel colored iris!!

Jesus Christ!

When he sees that I already recognize him, he lets go of me, my lips thankful for an opportunity to sap in the air again but just before he can step any farther away from me, I jerk my right knee, dunking it into the bulging stubborn groin beneath the jeans he's wearing, which solicits him reacting to the sharp pain but clasping onto the affected area. I reach for the exposed part of my body, using the torn piece of my cloth to shield it from his view.

"What the heck is this, Dan? If you want a sex appointment, you know where we meet to do that. Why are you here, harassing me at my company?!" I said in a whisper tone, wide eyes and perplexed as my breathe cams out raggedy and unstable, beads of sweat oozing from the pores of my skin like torrents of rain.

My heart still pounding loudly in my chest, my nerves trying to come to terms with the fact that I am not in danger so a defense mechanism is needless. I looked around, darkness staring placidly at me in the eye, as I hope and pray that no one can suspect that something is going on here.

I am in the second building of my company anyway and the elevator is pretty close by so I can quickly make my way out, leaving this animal to wallow in pain.

"Arggghhh..." was the groan that escapes his lips as the veins on his forehead became vivid like the flash of lightning amidst the thunder, the fearful, maelstrom of red, dominating his eyeballs as the stimulus of pain coursed through his body from the nerves in his groin.

I make my way past him, cussing underneath my breath for the fact that I am unable to get the document I came here for but contemplating that leaving this place, for now, is a lot better than staying back to search for the unsearchable.

But I suddenly can not feel my feet striding on the ground any longer: they are swaying in the air as I feel my buttocks scrunch in folds beneath the squeeze of thunderous arms, my entire frame dropping lazily on broad, defined shoulders as giant steps are made.

The same hands that carried me over his body when I was nine years old. His strength never diminished.

I could remember that night in the tunnel-like it happened only seconds ago. Those arms always felt safe despite how distant I know I should be from them at this point in my life.

"That's because I love you and I have to do all of the things I'm doing now because I love you."

Those melodious soothing words that were said in the tunnel went in sync with my heart like the snail and its shell. Those same hands are holding me now as my body is slumped over his shoulders.

Unfortunately, the standing block between the potency of those words and my situation with Dan is the lapse of time. I could trust Dan with my life back then but now, I am very much uncertain after everything that has transpired between us but I am not fighting back veer much because...he's my weakness. My addiction.

It's ironic to see how much of a strong-willed person Dan is. He was leading me out of danger the last time he carried me over his shoulder like this and now that he's doing the exact same thing, I'm not even sure what he's up to, neither am I sure if I want him fully in my life.

It's clear that I should not even be involving myself in dangerous things like this as a married woman but...

"Where are you taking me to Dan? At least let me finish what I initially wanted to do. I want Mustafa to sign the documents so it can be settled forever that his properties would become mine once he dies. Let's meet tomorrow if you want me that bad. Huh?" I bit my lip, pleading for him to let go of me.

All I get instead is a cheek of my ass in his fists. I let out a whimper of pain diluted with pleasure. When we get into the elevator, he brings me down as my body slowly slides off his rock hard physique, the friction lasting between us for that millisecond, electrifying enough to dampen my panties but before I can land on my feet independently, he scoops my waist in his arms.

"There is no need for all of that..." he whispers before his envelopes mine just as the air in the elevator became really tensed. Remembering my life before now, I honestly feel like crying because I know none of these things should be happening. I'm so screwed and I can't help it.

But tangling my hands into the thick locks of his hair as he gives my lips a good hot suck, savoring its plumpness like the seed of mango fruit, I know dan is the sweetest of all sins and that's most likely why I just can't say no to him...

***

"HOW CAN YOU SEND THAT KIND OF TEXT TO MUSTAFA???! LOOK, FARIDA IS NOT YOUR CHILD! SO, STOP WITH THE NONSENSE!" I yelled at Dan in frustration after reading the text he sent to my husband as he drove me in his car to an unknown place.

I kept yelling and glaring at him in the car, hitting his rock hard body with my fists but he would not flinch for even a second. He remained focused, as he maneuvered the steering wheel with his brash fingers, an expression that showed no emotions glued on his face and now, we are at a really beautiful but unfamiliar place and somehow, the aesthete in me washes of the boiling anger I was initially feeling by each passing minute.

But I try to stay angry because Dan is seriously infuriating me with his stupidity.

"Dan. You have not answered my question! You owe me an explanation for that insane thing that you did! How can you just come to my office, kidnap me and text my husband that he's not the father of my child and then bring me t-to t-this b-beautiful place...

Sunlight poured through the broad windows, illuminating the ornate chandelier, which is an intricate wood and glass design that did not project light but rather seemed to give off a soft, aura to it.

The walls are a clean white, splashed here and there with monochromatic abstract paintings or a plant in a neutral-colored pot. The corridor is lit by more wood and glass light fixtures and into a sitting room. It is mostly open space, with a fuzzy white rug that suspiciously looks like a polar bear in the center of the room. A champagne-colored settee with matching expensive chairs upon it, the colors all soft and pastel.

It is the dream house I told Dan that I always wanted to live in. I could remember telling him about it when we were still genuinely in love with each other before the major fiasco that destroyed our ethereal love relationship took place.

"So tell me, what is your dream house? What kind of house do you want to live in?" Dan asked me that day, as he plucked a pomegranate flower from the garden while we sat on the bench. It shocked me to realize that he was picking on the flowers because he was shy to look me in the face. I found it odd but it was breathtakingly cute.

"Hmm..." I muttered, staring right at the sun that was positioned above the palm trees, a few meters away, seemingly eavesdropping on our conversation as it's shade gave off the sign that it was already getting late.

"I'm not really a sucker for interior designs and the likes, but I want a house that can truly welcome me on days when it feels like life isn't welcoming me. The least I can resort to is living in a house that gives me some sense of safety and not some house that exposes me even greater to the snares of captivity. I want a house with full colors: brown, khaki green, black, or even white. But at the same time, it's not all about the colors because colors are capable of also doing you harm and making you feel really unsafe so I guess it also depends on the person I live with too or the significance of the environment in itself. Hmm...that was quite the speech right?" I asked, staring at him like he was a dream come true.

"No. We'll see how it goes to make that dream of yours a reality. I would have lots of money one day and build the house of your dreams for you." He answered, finally having the nerve to look me in the eye as he clasped my hand in his, raising it to his mouth and planting a soft kiss on it. "We would live there together and have our kids until we grow old and gray."

Hmm...I hope that's not what he plans on doing now because the two of us know pretty well that it's way beyond late. We've been far too damaged as individuals.

Now, Dan seeing that I am clearly mesmerized by how much of a dream come true the house is, he seizes the opportunity to snake his arm around my waist, nuzzling closer to my lips to grace it with series of peppering kisses like he has done to me in the elevator.

"You see, we are in that dream house you spoke about years ago and you are with me more importantly. We also have a child together. I always have better things planned for you and I worked super hard to bring your dream house to existence. You should know that everything I do is for your good." He whispered into my hair, his voice drugging and suckable.

I place my hand on his chest, pushing him off me despite how sexually affected I am by his touch and warn breath serenading against my neck.

"That's a stupid lie Dan and you know. Stop saying Farida belongs to you. You are not her father. I have a family now and that is what stands in the way and I also have a very important goal to achieve. That we have been having sex behind closed doors doesn't mean it can progress to anything higher than that. Sexual partners we are and sexual partners we shall remain!

Those things I sad to you then have no potency any longer now and you know it. So please and please, come off it. I have a business to protect, I have an inheritance to gain and I have kids to protect too because staying here with you when my husband is most likely panicking and looking for me now and my kids are at home is such a mighty risk. You have no idea the kind of text messages and threatening emails I have been getting in the past ten months. So, sitting in a beautiful house with the same person that I can't even bring myself to trust is vain because you betrayed me so it crushes the purpose of it being my dream house."

"If you want nothing to do with me, then why are we having sex and it seems like you don't want us to stop having sex so...what are we?" He asked with a dolorous countenance on his face, as he placed his hand on his waist limply, the sun radiating gracefully on the left side of his face, making the red spots look even more beautiful.

"Why are you asking me that question? When you know very well how hard you made it all for me. You kept coming back like a leech. How could I have possibly resisted you when I loved you so much?" A tear slips down my eyes, my heart burning at the intensity of the entire situation.

"Exactly! So why don't you just stay with me now that we have a child together?! I stayed single all these years just because I wanted to be with you!" He heaved a sigh of frustration.

"FARIDA IS NOT YOUR CHILD! SHE BELONGS TO MUSTAFA!" I yelled then swallowed bitterly afterward.

I'd somewhat felt like the child actually belonged to Dan but I dismissed the thought, knowing fully well that if that is the case, then my entire goal of getting married to Mustafa is completely terminated.

"You know, I'm willing to take care of your three children if you stay with me. I don't even care whose child belongs to who any longer. It's you I need so we can be a family and you would be safe with me." He said, his eyebrows furrowed together pitifully. He's trying so hard and it's making my heart do funny things.

Stupidity shall not dominate the second time.

"That is impossible," I said calmly but the storm was resident beneath my tone. I decipher that it's high time I left already and this time, it's not Dan's hands that stop me from exiting the place but his words. His voice is different now and it bellows like the thunder in a monsoon.

"What if I told you that I was the one who sent those threatening text messages and anonymous emails to you and your husband, including the one you got on your way to your business meeting. It seems to be that you have no idea.

If I sent the text to Mustafa in your presence, it should have dawned on you that I sent those other texts to you as well, why? BECAUSE I'M NOT WILLING TO LET YOU GO THIS TIME AND I WON'T! You also noticed that you stopped getting those threats for a while right? Yes, because we started seeing each other and we fucked and you got pregnant with Farida, so I waited for you to conceive so I can finally fulfill my threats but you have the nerve to make Mustafa think that that child belongs to him. Haha. Things are not done that way."

He came closer now, towering over my shivering form as he wove his hands all over my body in striking desire.

"I have done it the nice way but now, you would be mine whether you want it or not. So, sit your ass down and take off your clothes or I would take it off for you..."

***

Psalms 55:12-14 - "For it is not an enemy who reproaches me; then I could bear it. Nor is it one who hates me who has exalted himself against me; Then I could hide from him. But it was you, a man my equal, my companion and my acquaintance. We took sweet counsel together, and walked to the house of God in the throng."