Hannah's POV

My hammer fell to the floor. Sighing, I bent over to pick it. It was a warm Saturday morning, warm light filtering into my room from the windows. I was fucking clumsy ever since yesterday. There was something about how different it felt. There was no primal coalescence of unfiltered desires. It was simple sweetness. Perhaps I was the one romanticizing our interaction into something it wasn't. 

He did it, didn't he? Everything was planned down to the moment I entered the hotel. The convoy, the paparazzi, his words of encouragement, they all reeked of Vincent. He might not have known this, but I could pick up on little events and piece them all together. This could be me just being the over thinker I was.

The only question I kept asking myself was why he would go out of his way to do all that. Why did he want me to feel special? If we were honest, we were both tools to each other. We had a single purpose. To satisfy our desires.  This new thing however, was complicating our situation.

Clamping my lying press tight, I hammered down on the spine of the book before me. In the corner of my bedroom were heaps of special hardcover designs that I had done for my followers who ordered from my online shop. 

This was one of my favorite things to do, other than ocean watching. I hadn't gotten the time to do the latter in a while. But my book binding business was good business. Good business I decided to do this morning to clear my mind of him.

With each slam of my hammer, I got flashes of him. Flashes of his presence, a memory of his scent flooding my senses. 

"Being called paradoxical can be quite the insult. But if it means you'll have me on your mind, I'll gladly take it."

Hope punched my heart, scratching its deceiving claws over my skin. He was tempting. Lord he was. The contract, regrettably, stood between my longing and my impending doom. 

An ache ravished between my legs, my breasts tightening. The whispers of his touch were at arm's lengths. Any moment, they planned to visit me and conquer me once more with their unholy burn. 

At that moment, I had never been more glad to be interrupted. Ashley's footsteps bounced off the walls of my room. Her jotter was in her hand and she was reciting something about Thoracentesis or whatever the fuck that was.

Sitting on my bed, she crossed her ankles, her arms by her side. 'I'm sorry' was written over her softened gaze. We didn't have time to speak when I had returned because I was so damn tired and needed a rest. She probably thought I was pissed at her.

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

I settled my hammer by the lying press. "Nah."

"God, it was just James. That fucker, he just—he just…" she inhaled sharply and rested her forehead in her hand. "What I think doesn't matter. What does is that I let him get to my head."

"Yeah, you lose your cool with him around."

"I've never met someone so condescending, so annoying, so-so-so into himself," she said. "He just pisses me off."

I smiled and she frowned, asking, "What?"

Ashley definitely talked too much about him for someone who claimed she hated him. If I dared to point this simple fact out, my friend would gun for my head. So I did what any sensible person who loved their head would do. 

"Nothing. I just remembered something," I lied.

"Hmm," she narrowed her eyes at me, "if you say so. So, we cool?"

I mean, the majority of her apology was just her rambling about James. But I wasn't angry at her. So I told her we were fine and she left the room, muttering insults at him. I picked my hammer, ready to get to work and my phone vibrated. 

It was a text from Julius. That was odd. He usually didn't text. Anytime we wanted to organized a date, he simply called. However, since I learnt of his tactics, I decided not to pick whenever he called. That was simply because despite wanting to get a reaction from Vincent, I still valued my sanity. Julius Anbassa was the biggest ick known to womanhood. 

The text was simple. 

Let's meet here for our date. 8pm I've got something really important to tell you. 

Attached below was the location.

Exhaling, I rolled my eyes. This was a Saturday. My fucking day of rest. However, if he decided to text after me rejecting his calls for so long, he most likely would tell my mom I've been ignoring him if I do so this time. The last thing I wanted to hear was my Mama pelting warnings at me through my phone. 

Groaning, I dragged myself from my stool. "God, men are so annoying."

Fuck whoever created dates. 

***

"Miss, you sure this the spot?" the cab man asked. 

He had every right to ask that question. Hell, I was even asking myself the same thing. In contrast to the pretty black dress I wore ordained with sparkly gems, the street looked like the skeleton of the city, stripped bare and left to rot. 

Glancing one more time at my phone, I spotted the location on the location map. I was in the right spot, even if it didn't feel right. Paying the driver, I exited the car and in a sharp drift, he zoomed away. Maybe I should leave as well.

The walls of the building lining the streets had cracks and graffiti art at every turn. Stores fronts dangled "for lease" signs , their windows shut close. Who the fuck would want to lease a building in this place? The blinking lights from the broken street lamps thundered an ominous feeling through the air. 

"'scuse me lady!" A man bumped past me, the rotting smell of alcohol mixed with his body odor slapped my nostrils, bringing tears to my eyes.

Invisible insects crawled over my skin and I sauntered, following the direction on my phone. My location was already on if shit was to hit the fan. I knew my friend would come to my rescue if that were to happen. 

Honestly, this was a joke. Did I really want to risk my life just so I could avoid my mother's rants? Or was the reason deeper than this? These shabby dates I'd been attending with Julius were simply to make Vincent jealous. I knew this. I also knew that risking my life for a man I claimed to not care for conflicted with my desires. 

You can go back.

I could.

You can tell your mum no more dates with Julius.

I could. 

But that means no more Jealous Vincent, right?

The air was thick, pressing against me with an invisible weight. My breathing was shaky and I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself. I shouldn't be this bothered. In spite of this, my stupid feet were still walking towards the location. 

Along the sidewalk were homeless people in tattered clothes, sitting around a barrel with a blazing flame. The sudden realization of their need for warmth flooded my skin with a chilly trend. I rubbed a hand over my skin, walking deeper to what could be my doom.

I stopped in my tracks when I reached my destination. Narrowing my eyes at my phone, I looked back at the spot once again. This couldn't be it, right? The store had only one bulb, which was flooded with flies. Above it was a sign that said "Joe's quality meat." A torn red awning threw its shadow over the storefront, puddles with little streaks of red reminding me of the trade this place practiced. The only issue was that it was closed.

"Fucking hell."

At this point, my head was boiling with rage, my fists curled by my side. This bald fool sent me the location of a meat store. What could be the motivation behind this madness? Sighing, I picked out my phone to call him. There was no signal. Great, now I couldn't order a ride back home. 

Between the store and another was an alleyway. Moonlight cut between the buildings, flooding the space with silver light. By the corner was an under-turned sofa with patches all over. Rats ran over trash cans, flattened cardboard boxes on the floor. Everything here screamed go home.

A sensible person would do that. Too bad in this moment, I was far from sensible. If this was the spot Julius wanted to meet, perhaps there was a back door. Scrunching my nose, I delved deeper into the alleyway, avoiding greasy puddles on my way. Silence was the order of the night and my heels clacked against the walls.

Ahead, a light spilled from a small opening a door created. A din of voices drew me in. I crept closer and peeped through the crack. The metallic smell of raw meat thickened the air. Hanging from the ceiling were different sizes of red meat and two people surrounded a table. One backed the door, while the other was shielded by the big bald head of the former. A bald head that looked familiar.

"We making quick bucks with these parts. Not real heavy cash, Doc. Young bloods be ruining their fucking lungs with vapes. Man don't you hate vapes?"

Bald head nodded, his arms erupting squelching sounds anytime they moved. What was he doing?

"I told ya, them rich kids ain't worth it. They smoke and drink. You need orphans in orphanage homes. Those nuns do a damn good job to ensure they ain't smoking. So their lungs fetch a good price."

Bile rushed to my throat, sweat trickling down my spine. Were these men organ traffickers? I covered my mouth, breaths getting heavy. Too heavy. Baldy moved, around the table, what he was attending to obvious now. Those were lungs. Fucking lungs!  The kind I saw in my biology textbooks back in highschool.

I drifted my gaze from the monstrosity to the monster creating it. My jaw slacked. No, that couldn't be. Julius Anbassa. My heart hammered in my chest like a trapped bird trying to escape its cage. I had no one to talk to about this. No one would believe me. Definitely not my parents. Julius Anbassa was an organ trafficker.

It all made sense why he could afford such luxury. Doctors were paid well, but not well enough to live like a king, which Julius did. My head was flooded with so much blood I was beginning to get dizzy. 

"Meow!"

I gasped. It was just a cat.

"Did you hear that?" Julius asked. "Go check."

The man with him, a dark mountain with dominating shoulders marched towards the door. Oh God, I was cooked. Taking off my heels with one quick scoop, I took off and hid behind the nearest bin.  It reeked of vomit and poop here. Weird sticky liquid was glued to my feet and my stomach twisted. 

Drums echoed in my head and I clutched my black heels tightly. I was in trouble, but that didn't mean I should lose them. They were expensive. The man's shadow grew larger as he came closer. A sharp sound like blade meeting leather sliced through the air. In his shadow, I could spot the knife in his hand. This possibly couldn't be how I would die. 

There was no way in hell, I would die because of Julius Anbassa. So this fucker wanted my organs all along. My Mama had finally done it. She had finally managed to kill me with her horrible decision making. 

Any second now, I was a goner. In my last moments, only one image dominated my head. A face I didn't want to see. Would he miss me if I died? A single tear ran down my eye and I held my scoff. Vincent wouldn't ever do such in a thousand lifetimes. 

"Meow!"

The man stopped. His presence loaded the air with danger, the hairs on my skin standing. Hissing, he turned and walked back. The anchors of fear on my shoulders rolled off, letting me breathe properly once again.

"Fucking cat," he said and the sound of a shut door came after. 

Saved by the same cat that put me in trouble in the first place. I didn't know if I should be thankful or annoyed. Peeping behind the bin, there was no one. I took off, my heels in my hand. I couldn't afford to go back home, or even to my parents' place. If Julius wanted me dead, I couldn't go anywhere predictable. That led me with only one choice.

I'd never been to his house, but I knew the location. It sucked that the first time I would be visiting him was for a dire situation. Once I was out of the crazy street, I flagged down the first cab I saw and gave directions to his place. 

I reclined in the passenger seat at the back and blew a burst of air. The silhouettes of skyscrapers, streaks of night light and the cars all rushed past me in a blur. My fingers drummed on my lap, anticipation tying me in place. 

This was improper. I was stepping over professional and contractual boundaries. I could book a hotel and stay, that way Julius wouldn't find me. That was a tempting offer. Visiting Vincent on the other hand felt like a safer option. I couldn't explain why. It just felt right. 

We were way past cityscapes now and were rolling into roads sided with wide umbrella trees all intertwined together to form thick woods. The white headlights of the cabs speared through the mild mist on the road. It was eerily quiet.

The road went uphill, taking a sharp turn around high concrete walls with vines growing all over it. It continued for over a minute before we arrived at a massive iron wrought gate. In view was a fountain overflowing with gurgling water and a mansion with terracotta roofing, arched windows framed with wrought iron.

I stepped out and it started drizzling. Great. My bare feet touched the granite floor, my spine stiffening. I could call the cab man back and go somewhere else. 

No, I had to do this. For once, I had to be selfish and think of myself first. My people pleaser attitude had gotten me in trouble. The least I could do was see myself out of it. 

I pressed the intercom.

"Who's it?"

"Mr Black it's me, Hannah."

Three seconds of silence. "Oh hello, Love. What's with the formality? Give me a moment."

There was a creak in the other end and the intercom buzzed off. Rain fell, hitting me with so much animosity, I didn't know which of my valuables to protect. Fuck me for wearing my new purchases for that criminal. 

In the distance, shielded from the rain in an umbrella was Vincent, running towards me. He was shirtless, wearing only grey sweatpants. There was urgency in his eyes and for the first time, someone put me as their priority. He most likely didn't even take his time to dress up once he knew I was here, waiting under the rain. 

Delulu is the new solulu. 

God, I was reading too many romance books. They skewed with my world view. Like a magnet, I was drawn to him as he opened the gate, shielding me with the umbrella and leading me inside his home. His taut muscles got soaked because he covered me mostly with the umbrella. 

Arriving his lobby, I was struck by the elaborate design of the place. It took a standard two-curved stairs-forming-a-balcony-design, a chandelier beaming the place up with golden light.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, snapping the umbrella shut.

My throat dried up and tears stung my eyes. A storm came, breaking down the walls caging my strength and rendering me helpless. I fell to the ground and sobbed. It was too much. 

"Why do I have so much bad luck?"

"Hey, hey," he said, sitting on the floor with me. It was simple, yet a humble act. I was just his secretary, but he was here, at my lowest doing all he could to comfort me. My horrible ex was murdered, my parents didn't care for my choices and made decisions for me and now, it turned out that Julius was an organ trafficker. This was all a big mess.

My face was a snorting mess and I looked up at him. "Don't look at me, I look so ugly. I look so ugly when I cry."

"Come here," his big arms wrapped around me and I instinctively clung to his large back, holding tight and never wanting to let go. "Love, It's ultimately impossible for you to look ugly. It's alright, let it all out. Even the beautiful sky cries at times."

"And it's raining," I muttered.

He inhaled deeply. "You're right. It is raining."

This was everything and a dream wrapped together in a perfect box. Usually, I kept things bottled up. I hated sharing my problems and lied to myself that they weren't problems. That way, it all bottled choked me up and made it difficult to take my own stance. But with Vincent, I could be selfish. Tonight, I would let myself be selfish. I would tell him everything that happened tonight and I would let him give me a resting shoulder to lean on. Even if it was just for tonight and tomorrow, I could go back to reality.

That scared me. It meant I had to face the truth. I was falling for him and it was too late to go back now.