Chapter Six

Broken by the Billionaire Mafia

          Chapter Six 

        Jessica Martin's POV

  The chauffeur drives into the Martin's Mansion and turns off the ignition of the limousine. The driver slid out of the front seat hurriedly and opened the car doors.

   "Welcome back ma'am." Despite my warnings on not getting the door for me and the ma'am treatment, he was always keeping to his job.

   "Thanks, Philip." I took my bag and got into the building, joggling to the stairs and with a tired face. The day at the office was extremely busy and I had no time to have lunch apart from the heavy breakfast the stranger served.

  The thought of him had a pit forming in my stomach as a rush of excitement flowed in me making my panties moist from just thinking about him.

       "Why does he look so perfect?" I asked myself pushing the door open and turning my bedroom lights on, it was a spacious room with a huge shelf filled with books, a coffee table at the middle with two brown wooden chairs, Artifact amongst others the exterior changes from time to time so many times I've lost count of what my room truly looked like.

    I plopped to the bed and unzipped the leather $50,000 L.V bag and went through my things to see if he touched my belongings. My lipsticks, office card, credit card, pieces of jewellery and a host of things I smuggled into its confinement and with a satisfied grin that he didn't touch any of them but brought them to me made me respect him.

  He was a nice man. Others wouldn't care and steal whatever they could get when I passed out from getting drunk. He wasn't just nice but a great chef. I sighed to leave for the bathroom and my eyes stumbled on an unfamiliar card.

    "This ain't mine."

    I picked it up and took a look. Kessler Blackwell O'Neil. How did it get into my bag and who put it here?

    "Stranger!" I muttered. It was his business card and he must have slipped it into my bag. My cheeks burned hot, as I sat blushing like a teenage girl in love for the first time.

     I flipped the card backward and saw a written word in big bold letters 'CALL.' 

   Do I call or not? Would he see me as a desperate woman who has nothing better to do than drinking in stupid bars, and letting different men take me to their homes? But that's not true. I've never drank to that point since the assassination of my family and I've never woken up in a bed that wasn't mine or Samuel's before our separation.

    I let out a tired breath. It was frustrating to think of how he would view me. He had to keep his card in my bag for me to contact him and it showed he wanted me to initiate how things go. 

   I dialled the number on his business card and held my breath with my heartbeat beating profusely in my chest. My palm turned sweaty and the rush settled on my thighs as my pussy throbbed.

  What was wrong with me? Samuel never made me this excited anticipating hearing him speak. Then why is the blonde crazy man making me feel things I don't feel or I've never felt until I met him?

    "Hello." His sultry voice buzzed right through me like thin air hitting my nerves which had me feeling giddy and nervous.

  I was at a loss for words. I bit my inner cheek and gripped my phone tightly to put my shit together. "You left your business card. Why do you want us to talk? I'm a busy woman."

   "I don't want to waste your time. How about dinner tomorrow night?" He asked.

       A date!

    "I'd be busy." I lied through my teeth.

   "Please think about it. If I act like a jerk, walk out and never see me again. But please honour this invitation."

  Was he begging me? I'm sure I wasn't speaking to that cocky jerk.

  "I'll think about it."

    "And before you leave I want to say you look amazing in pink, you're a vibrant beauty don't ever let it go to waste. I'll be waiting for your answer." He compliments and bright splotches of pink spread across my cheeks.

   "What if my answer is no?" It was more of a flirt than a question, and I heard him sigh.

    "I think your answer will be a yes."

     "Good-bye," I muttered, chewing my lips timidly.

     "Goodbye Angel."

   He asked me out on a fucking date! 

~

              (Next Day)

     Perusing through my wardrobe piled up with a mountain of clothes from work to parties, and outdoors. I don't give a damn as far as I have clothes on my back but Miss Georgina won't hear of it every week she has something new to snuggle into my wardrobe.

     My eyes caught a red gown with slits to the sides with a pattern of roses and an open back. Hmmm... This could do. In no time I was fully dressed with a four-inch heel and my hair packed in a nice ponytail paired with silver jewellery as I took my car keys to the address.

  I texted him in the morning. I'll spend only a few minutes of my time and I'll make it by 6:30. He was excited by sending an alright back.

  I drove into the five-star fancy restaurant situated around the De La Creme layout in Chicago and when I walked in I felt stares from the male populace seated. Was my dress too revealing? Making my way to a table with expectant eyes to see Kessler.

     The fucktard wasn't within sight. Was I back to calling him names so quickly? He better get here before I lose my cool. I slipped to a table and went through the menu.

   A waitress walked up to me with a notepad and a pen to jot my orders. "Good evening ma'am. What would you like ma'am?" 

   "Water will do for now."

       "Okay."

   

  The waitress came back again and brought a glass of ice water with a straw. "Here you go, ma'am." 

  "Thanks." I nodded and faced my phone scrolling through unimportant things to kill time. It was fast running into 7:30 pm and he wasn't here yet, not even a text message. I stabbed my straw into the ice taking a sip, raging emotions were threatening to spill if he was going to stand me up why did he ask me out on a date night.

  Unzipping my purse I dropped some cash and got up to leave.

    "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting." 

     That.

      Voice.

  I turned to see Kessler with his hands lost in his pockets and his visible stubble which has grown much more. His shiny blonde hair was wet like the perfect advert from a shampoo commercial.

  How did one man look this perfect and breathtaking? Minutes ago I was boiling ready to walk away and block his number forever and the next minute I'm starstruck like a lovesick teenager.

   "I'm leaving." It was more like I was convincing myself than stating the obvious. 

  He tried to touch me but I was quick to jolt backward from his grasp. "Please don't. I'm sorry you have to wait." 

   "Good night Mr. Kessler." I turned around wanting to leave but he blocked my path, so I moved the other way. He's right in front of me and the other way he's swift to stand in my way again.

    "Hit, slap, punch me, take out your anger but please don't leave." He says.

  How many romantic movies has he watched to come up with that line? He doesn't look the least romantic to me. He looks fresh from a ganster movie.

"Stop sounding romantic because we aren't even a thing." I rolled my eyes.

     "I'm not a romantic man but you keep me in touch with sides I don't think I possess. Your beauty makes me wanna write a love poem or sing you a song."

   "Cut the crap. Why do you want to see me?" 

 He scoots the chair backward, gesturing me to a seat. I reluctantly plopped to the seat with a huff in defeat and an air of authority to walk out the next if he does shit.

     He sits close and peeks into my face. 

"I'd love to go straight to the point. I like you… shit, I think I'm in love with you."

     I burst into laughter. He must be joking. "Hahahaha... you just met me. Do you tell that to every woman you run into?" My words felt like an arrow as I saw his nose flare up. He looked pissed but masked it up with a toothy grin.

   "Do you accept to go on dates with every man that gives an invitation?"

  I froze and parted my lips to respond but nothing got out, not even a hello so I clamped them shut and faced the opposite direction to hide my flushed face.

     "I'll take that back. What would you like for dinner?"

   "Nothing."

    "I took you out for a date so we have to eat and have fun." He was trying to keep the conversation going but I wasn't having any of it.

    "Maybe I changed my mind on not having dates with a blonde."

       "I'm..."

    "I don't want you apologising. I'll take my leave. Tomorrow is work and I need to prepare for it." I answered curtly.

    "Okay." 

  He doesn't fight it anymore but took my hands as we left the restaurant. I didn't want to see his face, not now or ever. 

  Things weren't meant to be this way. I just wanted to coil up in my bedroom under my comforter with my ears plugged listening to music.

    "Jessica, are you mad at me?" 

  We were standing at the car's parking lot and he leaned to my door in that way stopping me from getting into the driver's seat and zooming home. I could sense he knew his statement struck a bitter chord in my heart.

     I knew I was overreacting but I'm no normal woman. I've seen different therapists for years since the event and I haven't gotten any better improvement past the nightmares that ruined my sleep each night with the images of my family lying in a pool of their blood flashing through my eyes whenever I'm alone.

   That period was the worst time of my life and right now I'm still scared to let anyone close, I managed to give one a benefit of a doubt and he ended up fucking a random bitch a week to our wedding.

   I won't let this man swoon me with his sweet talks. I should be wiser than that, this stupid heart of mine should be on lock till I know what his true intentions are.

   "If I say no that would make me a liar and if I say yes it wasn't a bad statement. I had a bad day, don't worry it ain't your fault." I replied.

    "I can make you feel good."

      He propped himself off my car door and strode towards where I stood with my arms akimbo, my skin tingling with a knowing feeling of expectancy as his scent hit my nostril when he got just an inch apart.

    "I'll be fine..."

   He placed a finger to my lips. "Shush.. you look extremely tired and upset. It's all my fault, let me take care of you."

      He slides his fingers from my lips to my neck and down to my cleavage. 

"I want to be home." I don't mean that. 

  What am I saying?

   

   "Let's go home." He smirked.

       "Us?"

     "I'll drive you home, tell your driver to pick up your car."