3 📽️ I SWEAR ON MY LIFE.

LORIAH

It’s been three days since the ruckus went down, and my soon-to-be stepbrother seems to have disappeared into thin air.

The last time Zakari was in the house, I hid outside Sebastian’s office and eavesdropped while they argued;

“Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more vain, father! I don’t want anything to do with this marriage. You cannot force me to be there.”

“You have no choice, Zakari.” Sebastian had responded with a calmness that sent shivers down my spine. “The engagement party will happen on the same night as your birthday. If you do not show up, you can forget about your inheritance.”

Zakari had stormed out soon after.

A few minutes later, his Aston Martin roared to life and raced out of the compound. I haven’t seen him since then.

I thought Sebastian was a cunning man for successfully trapping Mama in a marriage with him, but hosting their engagement party on the same night as his son’s birthday dinner is just downright evil.

Later that night, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, guilt and admiration fighting for dominance in my mind.

Sebastian had gone all out, hiring professionals to prepare me and Mama for the party this evening. And they did a wonderful job.

My blood-red dress contrasts perfectly with my olive skin. Coupled with a slit so high, my coochie is almost on display, the dress should be illegal.

It is better suited for a night club than a fancy dinner, but as an act of rebellion, I wear it anyway.

Left to me, I wouldn’t touch Sebastian’s money within a ten foot pole. But I cannot afford to let my emotions get the best of me… yet.

Until I find a better solution to our problems, I need to play along with this sham of a marriage. For Lola.

The dinner party is private. Only family and close acquaintances will be in attendance.

Thirty minutes into the party and I already know it’s going to be an epic disaster.

All the guests are snobbish and pretentious. It’s as if they can sense that me and Mama do not come from money.

Their smiles are fake.

Their greetings are robotic.

And it’s obvious that none of them likes Sebastian that much. They’re either here out of curiosity or mere courtesy.

The atmosphere is so fucking stiff, I wish I had just skipped the entire thing.

Three hours in, and the birthday boy is still nowhere to be seen.

Sebastian has given a million and one excuses already. His cheeks are red with humiliation. Mama seems uncomfortable, almost fidgety. And I have drunk half a bottle of champagne to stop myself from clubbing one of the sleazy old men who keeps sneaking dirty looks my way over the head with my wine glass.

Just when I decide to make an escape to the bathroom to calm my frizzy nerves, Zakari Von Hale finally decides to show up.

I take one look at him and all my worries and frustrations are momentarily forgotten.

It is honestly unfair for one person to look this good.

His Brunello Cucinelli suit fits him like a second skin, accentuating the broad, rigid expanse of his shoulders. His hair is perfectly slicked back as always, leaving his aristocratic good looks on full display.

“Good evening, everyone. I had to pick up Victoria from the airport. Her flight was late.”

He doesn’t offer a single word of apology. And of course, no one dares to question him.

My alcohol-fogged mind is so busy ogling Zakari, I almost do not notice the woman on his arm. Until he mentions her.

I take one look at her and a familiar gutting sensation stabs my throat.

She’s gorgeous.

Her hair, black like Zakari’s, is expertly pinned at the top of her head in an updo that perfectly complements her heart-shaped face. Her dress screams luxury and class.

And her aura…it is quite obvious that Zakari’s plus-one carries herself with pride. Just like him.

They look perfect together, like a power couple capable of taking London by storm.

She smiles, pressing herself closer to his side, and I promptly look away.

I’m not jealous.

I’m not jealous.

Am I jealous?

I’m definitely jealous.

“Hello, everyone.” God, even her voice sounds expensive, low and smooth. “I apologize for coming late.”

“That’s okay, Miss Montgomery.” Sebastian responds. “How’s your father?”

Montgomery? Why does that name ring a bell?

Oh, right.

The Montgomery family are the founders of Mont Oil, one of the fastest growing oil conglomerates in London.

I was right after all. Victoria does come from wealth.

Throughout the dinner, Zakari makes it a point to ignore my existence. And it shouldn’t hurt, but it fucking does.

My chest feels a bit funny as I drown my umpteenth glass of champagne. When I look up and spot his arm wrapped around Victoria’s waist, I take that as my cue to escape. One more second in this pretentious gathering and I might actually explode.

I don’t know why, but I find myself in the pool area three minutes later, staring down at the clear blue water.

Fine, I’ll admit it. I may have had a tiny crush on Zakari when we first met.

He’d just returned to London after spending three years studying in Switzerland… and he looked like the best thing after sliced bread.

That crush died when I realized he hated my guts. Or I thought it did.

I am so deep in thought that I don’t realize I’m no longer alone. Until a wave of scorching heat presses into my back.

“Did you wear this for me?”

I spin around… and proceed to almost slip and fall into the pool.

“Fuck!”

I shut my eyes, gearing up for the cold splash. But it never happens.

Strong arms encircle my waist.

Within seconds, I’m pressed against a brick wall of a chest, drowning in Zakari’s soothing cologne.

My heart is thumping so fast, it’s a miracle that it hasn’t torn out of my chest. His soft lips graze my ear and I freeze, all my nerve endings coming alive.

“I asked a question, Lorie.” His voice is a smooth, buttery baritone against my skin. “Did you wear this dress for me?”

I’m not sure what to focus on first. The fact that he just called me Lorie. Or the fact that Zakari is touching me. Holding me.

Woah!

I open my mouth to speak, but every single word I planned to say dies in my throat when his smooth fingers trace the exposed skin of my left thigh.

Run! Scream! Do something — my brain urges, but I’m frozen.

My breath catches in my throat as his fingers climb higher, and higher… and higher.

One wrong move and he’ll be brushing my aching sex. But even then, I don’t think I’d want to push him away. And that scares me to death.

I bite my lips to stifle a strangled moan when he pinches the skin just below my pussy.

But alas, I should’ve known the entire situation was too damn suspicious to be true.

Three seconds later, Zakari’s words banish my fantasies into the deepest pit of hell.

“I knew you were a whore just like your mother. We’re practically step-siblings, but you’re so eager to let me have a taste.”

His voice is no longer soft… or buttery. It’s harsh. And cold, and laced with so much hate.

My eyes snap open. Bile rises in my throat.

“Don’t you dare talk about my mother.” I snarl, teeth clenched.

I push away, but he doesn’t let me go far. He grabs my left hand, imprisoning it against his chest.

“You understand the value of a mother. How surprising, considering the fact that mine lies on the brink of death in a fucking nursing home because of you and your mother!”

There it is again. The guilt.

I understand his anger, but that doesn’t mean I’d let him disrespect me.

“I have nothing to do with this engagement, Zakari. I hate it as much as you do. Leave me out of it.”

“Like heck I will.” His fingers dig into my arm, harsh and merciless.

“This was all part of your plan, wasn’t it? You and your gold digging mother came here to destroy my family.”

What the fuck is he talking about?

He steps closer and I inch a tiny step backward, all my bravado disappearing into thin air;

“Do not think for a second that you will get away with this, Loriah. If anything happens to my mother, I will destroy you. All of you.

No corner on this earth will be dark or deep enough to save you.

When I’m done with you, even the devil will kneel in admiration.”

I’m trembling. Not from arousal like earlier. But from fear.

No one has ever viciously despised me like he does.

Zakari’s gaze strays to the pool behind me and my heart almost stops beating.

“You can’t swim.” It is not a question.

“H-how do you know that?”

He doesn’t answer.

“How long do you think you’d survive inside this pool before help comes.”

His intention dawns on me and my knees tremble with terror.

Not only am I unable to swim, I also have a deep phobia for large bodies of water.

“Z-Zakari, let’s talk about this like sensible adults.”

His gaze cuts into me, razor sharp and burning.

“The time for talking is over, Lorie. If you die tonight, I’d be sure to drop a black rose on your headstone.”

I thought he would push me. Turns out, he doesn’t even have to go through the hassle.

All Zakari does is take one step forward… and I slip.

This time, he doesn’t catch me.

His hands are buried in his pockets, his eyes two twin coals of hate as he watches me skid and scramble at empty air.

Then I’m falling…

I land in the pool with a thunderous splash, and the freezing water immediately swallows me whole.

I fight as hard as I can, struggling to keep my head afloat.

“Zakari, p-please help me!! Please, don’t go. Pleaseee…”

But he doesn’t even seem fazed by my near-death situation.

Zakari turns away and walks out of the pool area with unhurried steps, abandoning me to my fate.

Sooner than expected, my limbs grow tired and panic starts to set in.

Then I’m sinking.

Only one thought remains as the blackness takes me: I despise Zakari Von Hale with every fiber of my being.

He will pay for this. I swear on my life…