Forced marriage: Dear wife, you can't escape me

Rita Jones and her friends sat around a table in the private room of skybar VIP lounge drinking some tequila shots.

They had this ritual of meeting up once a week every Sunday evening to unwind at the club after a long week of working their asses off.

Being independent career women, they didn’t need a man to take them out to have a good time. In fact, they could be big sponsors themselves.

The atmosphere was harmonious. Soft music played in the background as assorted lights from disco balls twinkled in the room.

"Rita, I saw someone that looked like Eric in town today," Glenda suddenly said, tilting her head back as she took her shot in one go.. scrunching her eyebrows and wrinkling her nose at the bitter taste.

Glenda Anderson was one of Rita’s best friends, she was a lawyer running her own law firm. She was a blonde with green eyes and an average height.

“It can’t be him, he left for City Z on a business trip last week,” Rita said, looking at the trading platform on her iPhone. She was working even when she was supposed to be having fun with her friends.

Rita was a workaholic but it was worth it. Her company, the Jones group, was thriving due to her working harder than everyone else. At 27, she had already made a footing in the business world and her company was listed two years ago.

“That’s it!! I’m confiscating your phone until further notice,” Amelia Scott, a famous musician said as she grabbed Rita’s phone and put it in her Chanel handbag making Rita groan.

Amelia was a tall brunette with pale green eyes and a curvy figure.

“Amelia,” Rita tried to protest but Amelia glared at her.

“No Rita, you always do this.. we’re supposed to be having girl time but here you are busy on your phone,” Amelia complained and Rita’s other friend Evelyn Sparks nodded in agreement.

Evelyn was a doctor working for the largest hospital in town. She was shorter than the other three and had red hair with brown eyes.

“That’s right, she likes coming out to the club with her anti-social behavior. Girl, did you even hear that Glenda saw your man in town today?” Evelyn remarked, rolling her brown eyes.

“I already said it’s not him, he’s supposed to be back in two days,” Rita retorted, choking on the tequila shot she had just taken in, her eyes reddened slightly.

“Girl, why do you even waste your time telling her about the douchebag when she clearly won’t believe anything you say?” Amelia asked, looking at both Glenda and Evelyn who just shrugged their shoulders helplessly.

The douchebag in question was Rita’s boyfriend of 10 years, Eric Thompson. A 30 years old hottie (tall, handsome with perfectly sculptured features). He worked as a vice CEO in the Jones group. Since he knew the owner, he was controversially parachuted into the job.

It was not like Rita didn’t want to believe her friends but she trusted Eric. There was no need not to.. he was her first in everything. Her first kiss and she gave him her precious cherry to pop. Most importantly, she strongly believed a relationship without trust was doomed to fail.

Rita was very much in love with her boyfriend, or so she thought. That love was so strong that she even included him as the co-owner of all her properties including the company shares, not wanting to make him feel inferior to her because of their differences in status.

She had made him her equal in every way she deemed possible.

They had been together for a long time anyway and were already living together. All they needed was a legal document to confirm their marriage but Eric was yet to propose to Rita.

That was why her friends were on him. They thought he was playing and taking advantage of her because he mentioned nothing about taking the relationship to the next level.

“I’m seriously worried, why don’t you break up with him Rita? You are beautiful and rich, you don’t need him,” Glenda advised, licking a piece of lemon. The lemon went well with the tequila she kept chugging down like soft drinks. It lessened the burn on the throat as it enhanced and balanced the flavor of the shot.

“You guys don’t know him. Eric.. he’s really sweet and he loves me very much. I can’t live without him.” Rita answered but deep down questions started popping up in her mind.

‘Does he really love me? How come he’s not called or texted since he left last week? If I don’t call then there would be no communication between us,' she swallowed painfully as she thought to herself.

“He must have fed you some hard stuff for you to be bewitched like this.. Girl.. is it his dick that made you lose your sense of reasoning?” Amelia scoffed, grabbing a cider from the round table.

Rita just pursed her lips in a straight line. Her friends were not in support of her relationship with Eric. That’s why she didn’t tell them about adding him on the ownership of her properties.

They would totally freak out, especially Amelia. She was the most talkative one.

“Okay, enough guys. We came here to relax and just be ourselves let’s not talk about work or relationships,” Evelyn remarked and Rita gave her a grateful look for stopping the conversation.

“How about we go dance? The dance floor is not crowded in the VIP section.” Glenda suggested and they all got up excitedly.

They were dressed casually in body-con dresses and a pair of heels. No one would know that they were very successful women.

The ladies made a small circle and they took turns to enter the circle and dance however they felt like whilst the others cheered on.

It was Rita’s turn and she was dancing in the center of the circle when she suddenly felt a chill on her back, making the hair on the back of her neck stand. It felt like someone was staring intently at her. As if she was being secretly watched from afar.

The feeling sent a shiver down her spine. She stopped dancing and looked around but saw no one. Ignoring the weird feeling, she returned to twerking on the dance floor as her best friends cheered her on.

“Yeah, girl.. go down! Go down! Oh!”

Slightly intoxicated, Rita’s friend’s cheers made her loosen up and twerk to Sean Paul’s get busy song. It was an old song that made her remember her younger days when she used to sneak out to go partying.

She wiggled her behind like it was made of jelly when it reached her favorite part that said…

~ “Shake dat ting Miss Cana Cana, shake dat ting Miss Anabella…”~

“Shake it! Don’t break it! Yeah!! Shake it! Ooohhh!!” The ladies yelled excitedly like teenagers as they enjoyed themselves to the max.

The nostalgia made Rita groove to the song that made her teen years exciting.

…

Meanwhile, in the corner of the VIP section, a tall handsome man who stood at six feet and three inches tall, with his jet black hair styled in a taper haircut with a side-part stared in the direction of the dance floor.

In an expensive black tailored suit, he looked eye-catching and his imposing kingly aura made him stand out from the rest. He was a sight to behold.

His eyes narrowed in concentration as he stared intently at the wild kitty who was twerking with no care in the world. He didn’t have to turn her around to know who she was.

After all these years nothing had changed, she was still carefree and arrogant and he… still got hard just by looking at her. The man couldn’t deny that she was still beautiful and just like in the past, she unwittingly took his breath away.

“Pretty,” he heard his friend say from his right side, making him squint his eyes at him as irritation flashed through him.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the man denied and drank from his glass. The slight burn on his throat from the whiskey was nothing compared to the pain that was buried deep down in his heart.

“Right.. I was wondering why you suddenly wanted to come here when you have been so busy transferring your main branch to the City. I guess I know why now.” The man’s friend remarked with a smirk on his face.

The man ignored his friend and kept looking in the direction of the dancefloor.

His eyes flashed as several memories flashed through his mind and they were accompanied by a familiar sting in his chest. But he quickly suppressed those emotions.

Clenching his fingers around the glass of whiskey in his hand, he curled his lips into a cocky smirk.

‘I’m back, Rita.’ The mysterious man whose looks matched a Greek god’s uttered to himself silently…