I walk into the guest washroom, the one that Spanish woman Martina had shown me.

Lights automatically lit up like magic as my foot touch in and my lips curve in a big :O as I stare at the exorbitant lavish lifestyle this man lives.

The walls are studded with emerald colour marble with white in a pattern of waves that I could not even afford after selling my entire family's right kidney. The floorings have a rough pattern of beige colour that I can't afford either after selling their left kidney.

A small chandelier glows in the center and my eyes reflect to the long horizontal mirror, edged by wooden cabinets which are occupied by Dior's cleanser, body lotion, scents, and sets of folded napkins.

I almost fall over the hideous sight of me in the mirror. I am mess of a mess. I look like a racoon who survived a tsunami. No wonder why he told me to freshen up and change first, before the meeting.

I keep the shopping bag on the counter but my curiosity is not done exploring his bathroom that is bigger than the size of master-bedroom of my house. Glass shower and a high-tech Japanese toilet, both in each corner.

I close my mouth in self-dignity but it soon falls down many floors as I see a huge egyptian size bathtub beside a glass door which ends up to a small balcony view. Fuck you rich people!

My eyes crawl to the wooden finishing door to the other side of his guest washroom and I stride open in curiosity. Lights glow from all the corners with another chandelier on top as the empty wardrobe welcomes me.

A floor to ceiling mirror covers the center while the street lines up with glass slabs and drawers which are completely vacant, as if he never had any guests before. It's like walking into an empty showroom.

With a tiny clench in my heart, I walk back to the counter where I had left the bag. The bag. What did he get me? What did he get me? My anxiety asks as well.

I look at the pink shopping bag and the clench in my stomach tightens, knowing whatever is inside it, he personally picked up for me. I bite the feeling of little butterflies in my stomach as I open the bag.

*Duh* *Duh* *Duh*

I pull out the first box, which contains soft velvet flip-flops with a smiling furry face on it. Cute. Second I pull out a slick, black colour hairband with cat ears on them. That's weird. And lastly I pull out a red colour dress. No, it's a top. A silky, red colour see-through top with fragile strips attached to its shoulder and a lacy thong as its partner.

What the-What the-What the FUCK?

My brain couldn't connect with my senses as it runs at the speed of light trying to find logic behind these items. That's when my gaze falls above the 32C tag of the silk top, which spells Victoria's Secret Lingerie.

I get red.

Red like the colour of the transparent, lacy cloth. Not from blush, but in absolute anger.

This psycho dog!

My chest rises in anger. Rage flows through my veins like blood as I clutch the piece of the slutty lingerie in my fist and storm out of his lavish guest washroom with an aim to murder the owner.

Let's talk like adults.. I didn't know he was talking in this adult sense, like the starting of a porno video.

The living room is stark empty and so is the corridor that leads to another double door. I kick the doors open of the private room and another bright chandelier blinds my eyes. Fucking stupid rich shit!

"Where is he?" I yell as I spot Martina decorating terracotta plates on a black glass table. "What happénéd?" She asks in her startle Spanish tone.

"Where is your dickhead boss?" I growl, fuming in anger. He really has big-balls if he thinks I will wear this obscene X-rated shit and dine with him.

"Dickhéad?" Martina's face plasters with confusion as she tries to understand this new English word.

"Dakota.. Where is he?" I demand, as if the cannibal side of me founds surface and is thirsting for some fresh blood. I am going to kill that AI bastard!

I walk to the narrow path Martina had shown me. My self-respect burns with the flames of inferno as I reach to a door which reeks of do-not-disturb aura.

I crumble the lewd piece of lingerie in my clenched fingers and barge inside his office, only to find him lazily supporting himself on the top of his table, talking to someone on the phone.

His silent gaze rises to me and the toxins in those greens glow brighter than his stupid chandeliers as he gives me his full unflinched surveillance.

"What kind of sick joke is this?" I growl infuriatingly, showing his slutty piece of dress.

Dakota raises his thick eyebrow at me in a warning and speaks calmly. "I'll give you a call back in ten minutes." And keeps his phone on the table as if ten minutes would be enough to deal with me.

He straightens up to his full glorious 6 feet 4 inch height. His shoulders curves down like mountains as he folds his arms on his chest. "Why are you not dressed up, Miss Stone?" His voice edged with irritation as if I made a silly error.

"Are you out of your mind? Why on the earth would I wear such filthy, explicit lingeries and dine with you?" I burn with anger, giving his glaring eyes a competition.

Dakota unfolds his arms. "You will wear them.." He says darkly like an order. "Because you want me to talk."

My eyebrows scrunch in confusion as I try to decode his encoded threat. What is he talking about? What is he talking? My anxiety asks as well.

A low fire ignites in me as I see him removing his cufflinks. Slick long fingers work on the lock of silver cuffs with a concentration only valuable items deserve.

He slides them gently in the pockets of his pants, which are possessively hugging his broad hips as he tilts his head, and study my face.

"Which part you didn't understand, Miss Stone?" He takes a small predatory step towards me. His eyes dark, hair wet and posture confident as always.

"I told you very clearly, if you want to talk about your little fucked-up situation with me, then go change." His voice immorally low, laced with malicious intent that twist the knot in my stomach.

That's when the little bulb in my head flutters with light. How could I not think before? His answer-fake accusation-legal notices. He deliberately planned it all.. Like an evil mad king.

"YOU!" I raise my pointy index finger at the asshole in front of me. "You strategized your answer coz you knew the recorder's battery died and then you waited to send those defamation sue notices to trap me and the publication house in your fake lies." My nerves pulsate in absolute shock as I couldn't believe he would stoop so low.

"I learned from the best." A cruel grin pulls the corner of his lips as he stares at me hard and square. The twist in my stomach worsens as if I took a physical punch in my gut.

Something feels different. Something very wrong.

As if the wind changed its direction and water changed its colour. The world around me crumbles down as I stare into those green orbs that play a sinful sad melody.

"You remember, don't you?" Dakota radiates of evil confidence as if a demon is stuck behind his head and it comes off him in waves.

"You are sick." My lips move on their own as I read the plot behind his dark shades. He did this all to get his revenge from me, for something I unknowingly did three years ago.

"I am pretty sure the police will look things differently. Especially after seeing the footage of you desperately climbing on to my property. They will know who is more sick among us." He speaks like a challenge.

My eyes widen in shock. The anger pumping through my veins before, transfigures into absolute panic. And suddenly I realize, I voluntarily walked into his den. His cage that he has been preparing for days.

And like an idiot, I kept walking into his planned strategic trap. I look up at the wolf. His eyes appear like ice as he takes another slow stride towards me as if giving me a chance to run away.

But I couldn't move.

Nor could I look away.

I have never seen a man so tall and intimidating, that he could split the Red sea with just his gaze. His fingers work on the buttons of his shirt as he undoes them while keeping his intoxicated eyes on me.

It takes everything in me to stay still on my two feet as he stands so close to me I could hear the deep rhythm of his breaths. My heart thumps cowardly as I come face to face with the beast.

"You c-can't do this." An unspeakable fright closes around my throat.

The way his eyes concentrate on my face, I know his mind is running in laps, vigilant of my every expression, even the annoying hair strand on my face that brushes on my lip every time I exhale anxiously.

He lifts his fingers, which I thought to push my hair back, but I inhale sharply as they curl around my neck darkly. Heat spreads through my skin and I shiver at his touch.

Chills of unknown fear courses down my spine as he makes me look at his cold-blooded eyes. And I see...

Vengence.

"I can't?" He raises his thick brow in a challenge and gives my neck a tight squeeze. My fingers alarmingly wrap around his hand and I realize how thick and muscular his wrist is.

"I can, and you will watch me doing it." His chest rumbles like thunder as I hear harsh, ruthlessness in his voice, as if he hates me with all his black soul.

"I can easily take down that post and more easily, take down your little publication. It is my cup of tea." He says bitterly, spatting my words right back on my face.

Dakota is a large man. I could feel the strength of his long, thick, powerful fingers pressed against my neck in a merciless grip. And I know this is not even the slightest portion of what his real power is.

"You will watch me burn your company, along with your little book. And I promise, I'll give you the best view of your life, from behind the bars."

My heart flutters panickingly, wanting to flee away from my chest badly as he lowers his face cynically, bringing his lips so close to my breathless ones that I think I'll pass out.

"Unless you choose to be smart, Emara." He whispers darkly.

I take a miserable shaky breath as his fingers loosen around my throat and I feel my lungs again. I take in air greedily, as if I was drowning all this time, under the sea green water.

"Change and meet me in the dining hall in ten minutes."

His nose rubs mine, and I feel a soft brush of his lips against my heaving lips, soft and warm like summer breeze before he withdraws his hand completely off me and walks away.

It was not an invitation, but more like a command.

The world comes rushing back to my sense and the confidence I thought I lost under his eclipse. "I am not wearing this." I find my voice against the wild thrumming beat of my chest as I clutch on to the piece of lingerie.

Dakota stops in his steps. He crooks his neck and stares at me in the way only a psycho-cynical would stare. "Hmm.. Then you will be dining naked with me."

My head flips to his stone-hard face that vows he would drag me on his cold marble floor with no clothes or decency, if he has to.

"Ten minutes." He warns and walks away taking his darkness with him.

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I felt so hot while writing this chapter. And I didn't even start writing smut 🥵

I am so excited for the next chapter.. Don't forget to vote to turn me on 😜