The Devil in Armani

Lolly’s POV

“Honey, you don’t look so good,” the bartender said.

The music in the bar banged against my ear drums.

Still, it wouldn’t erase Cindy’s voice in my head repeating those words: “NO MAN WILL EVER LOVE YOU!”

I was still trying to wrap my head around what happened. It still felt like a nightmare.

It was all a prank?

I wasted the last three years of my life on a cruel prank orchestrated by my evil stepsisters?

How could they do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?

“Here, honey, you need it!” the bartender said, sliding a shot glass filled with alcohol my way.

I was not a big drinker, but things have changed. It was the music and the promise of alcohol that caught my attention when I saw this bar while wandering aimlessly around the city.

I wanted to forget my sorrows for a second.

I downed the shot now, flinching as the fire slid down my body. It burned my tongue, the back of my throat before moving down to my belly.

I shook my head. The alcohol loosened my tongue. “Another one please!”

I wanted to get shit-faced drunk and forget about today.

This was not the way I planned to end my wedding day.

We should’ve been flying across the oceans to Europe now. We should’ve been on our honeymoon by now.

Instead, here I was, drinking to forget how stupid I was for trusting Michael or whatever his real name was.

My mind rolled back the memories of our time together.

Should I have known?

Michael had felt like a god-send. We loved the same things, had the same opinions, and had the same plans.

Looking back now, it had been too good to be true.

But I had been so desperate to escape my stepfamily, I didn’t really care to do my research on him.

“Another one please!” I told the bartender.

He watched me suspiciously as he poured the drink. “Easy there, sweetie, this shit will make you forget your own name in ten minutes if you keep drinking like this.”

I downed the shot he passed to me. “Good, I have a lot of things to forget right now!”

“Ahh, let me guess, boyfriend troubles?” he asked.

I maintained a stoic expression. I was afraid if I started talking about Michael, I would burst into tears and the tears will never stop coming out.

Right now, I just wanted to drink till I can’t take it anymore. “Just keep it coming!” I told the bartender.

He poured another shot, hesitantly. “I can tell you right now…that guy, whoever he is, is an idiot. You are so pretty, I’m sure any guy in this room would kill to have you. Just look around, you can get anyone you want.”

I glanced around quickly. He was right. The bar was filled with all sorts of eligible men. Hot guys. Nerdy guys. Businessmen. Flirts.

But none of them caught my eyes except one. I felt his eyes already on me before mine landed on him, or in his direction anyway.

He sat in the darkest corner of the room, alone, nursing a drink.

His face was hidden in the semi-darkness, but I could feel those eyes on me, prying, roaming all over my body.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood erect, alert to him.

His legs were crossed, one arm thrown across the vinyl couch. Two buttons on his shirt were open, exposing his hair upper chest.

The rest of his body leaned away from the light, shrouding him in a shadow.

He had a frightening aura, a commanding posture. Danger was inked all over him. His pure dominance radiated all over the room.

I could tell, right away, that he was used to being obeyed.

He sipped his drink slowly.

He was so magnetic, I felt myself drawn to him. There was just something about him: his Armani suit, Italian shoes, his gold wristwatch sparkling in the light, his broad upper body and those strong arms that felt like they could choke the life out of me.

Suddenly, heat pooled in my belly. My pussy hummed with need. A desperate, wild, sinful kind of need that I had never felt before.

He leaned forward, revealing his face in the dim light. My heart skipped a beat.

Fuck, he was attractive. But there was something dark and mysterious about him: his intense deep-gray eyes stared daggers at me, his chiseled jaws were tightly set; his entire body was too controlled, unpredictable.

“I see you’ve found a likely candidate,” the bartender’s voice broke through my mind, startling me. I had forgotten where I was. I had forgotten the world existed and not just me and him.

“Who is he?” I asked.

The bartender observed him. “I don’t know. It’s his first time here, but man, he is so delicious. The kind of guy who will make you forget all about your boyfriend troubles,” he said with a wink.

I chuckled nervously. Just a few hours ago, I wanted no one but Michael.

The man stood up. His tall figure seemed to tower above everyone else. He was well-muscled, broad-shouldered.

As he approached me, I noticed the tattoos on the visible part of his hand. His hair was tucked behind his ears.

He circled toward me like a predator. Those eyes…throw me off.

Closer now, his natural, masculine scent filled my nostrils, opening up my pores. He smelt of whiskey, of sin, of danger.

The kind of guy that would give me a wild night and make me forget Michael.

But as he drew closer, I became nervous. He stopped next to me, shoving his glass in the bartender’s direction. “Refill,” he snapped.

His voice was low, dusky. It made me tingle in places I didn’t know existed until now.

I gripped my glass tighter, keeping my head low.

He turned in my direction, angling his head to the side. “You look like you could use a good time,” he said, straightforward.

His voice was inviting, teasing, full of sinful promises.

I swallowed a lump. I couldn’t even look in his face. I was afraid I’d melt.

Sliding a door card in my direction, he added: “I’m in the hotel across the street. The penthouse. Come if you want a night you’ll never forget.”