Chapter Nine

FREYA 

His place was far from the city. I wouldn’t have gone this far with a man if not that I was only running to save my head from being severed from my body by Jaxton.

Jaxton is mafia, and mafia could do anything to anyone who messes up around him; that’s exactly what I did by getting my ass off his place at the slightest chance.

“Come on, get down, let's go freshen up inside and have a blissful evening.” He said as he got out of the car.

I did as he said.

He had done the good job of getting me off the city where I was sure Jaxton had eyes on the walls, and bringing me to his place in a different city I had never been to.

I have no idea if Jaxton has an influence here, but I’m sure it would take him long to fish me out of the massive city and toss me back to his arm.

He led the way, and I followed, but just then, I thought it was right to have him introduce himself.

I am not really here for a one night stand, though I knew we might have a good time in bed if he insisted.

“What's your name?” I posed.

He didn't pause to respond to me the way I thought was ethical, but looking at his reflection at the glass door standing before him, I could tell the stretches on his face meant he would speak.

“Is that necessary?” he got a key into the door, unlocked it and pulled it open.

Truth is, harlots don't care what the damn name of their client is, all they do is follow him home, offer him what he needs, which is nothing else but pussy, and go your way.

That's the shit I know about harlots.

“You asked of mine, so, I see no problem in asking of your own.”

That was my fair response, while I followed him obediently into his house, hoping he was not another monster.

Well, I guess his appearance preached so much against the thought in my mind. He is tall, not blonde like Jaxton, not rich like him, and not quiet like him.

I guess this few things are enough proof that a man is not a devil in human skin, like Jaxton who would eat me alive of he sees a way to do that.

"I’m Robbin, and I work for Zain, if that's what you want to hear.” He said and motioned to one of the sofas in his room.

Maybe he is not a random proletariat like I thought. Maybe he is one of them, the mafia.

His response was unkind, and that's how mafia do. They put the answer they wish right in your face and watch you drool over their words the way people drool over a parcel of money.

“Umm. Nice to meet you, Robbin.” I mumbled.

His name was the name of a thief in the British mythology who rob the rich and feed the poor with his spoils, but that wasn't what was getting me perturbed at the moment.

How on earth would I explain to him that I'm not a harlot? How would I explain to him that I am pregnant?

How the heck would I do that!

His eyebrows creased into a V shape that made me wonder what exactly was going on in his mind.

Who knows what he would do if I tell him that I'm not a harlot, though I knew I could be naughty in bed because I had been treated like a harlot at Jaxton’s place.

“Look, lady, we are not on a date or a meet and greet.” His eyes were wide with what I guess was rage.

If that was rage, then his take is a child's play if measured in Jaxton’s scale.

His hand pointed towards the door at the other corner of the big room we were in, with his face mean like the congealed face of a dead cat.

“Get your ass into the bathroom, freshen up, and wait for me in my  room.”

I had so far learnt to obey instructions without asking questions, but this time, I had something else in mind.

Being obedient wasn't enough.

I strutted into his room through the door he pointed at, and there, I saw the bathroom, separated from the room with glass.

I caught a picture of what game the man would play in the bathroom with me if I get myself in there.

He would simply walk in on me while I am taking shower, pin me to the place and fuck hard on me.

I imagined how my moan would fill the room.

It would be awesome in there, but in my mind, I wasn't imagining the gentlemen was the one fucking me in the bathroom.

I was imagining Jaxton doing that.

He was the only bastard who had touched me so far, so, all I could ever imagine whenever I think of sex was him and I, naked and gliding.

I made to the wardrobe in the room. The first thing I want here is to get rid of the stripper clothe and boot.

I am not a stripper, and I'm not the whore my father claimed in his message to Jaxton that he trained me as.

I'm decent young lady who is pregnant for a rich bastard.

I took his shirt and trouser, laid them on the bed and took off my cloth, praying in my mind that he would not walk in here and see me naked.

That would be a feast for his dick, but he didn't show up. He was probably waiting to here the sound of the shower running in the bathroom.

He walked in and raised his eyebrows at seeing me, fully clad in his cloth.

“What the fuck?”

That's not my first time hearing those words. I was in a mafia lord's house for some months, so, such words as he just uttered were indeed of no use to me.

I had heard words worse than that.