2 - Femme Fatale

AZRAEL NIKOLAI MORDECAI

Dalawang linggo. Two fucking weeks that I haven’t gotten a proper sleep. May mga babae sa tabi ko but they never once satisfy me. And it’s so fucking frustrating how it ended up like this. Nakakaasar! 

Isa pa. Nabalian talaga ako ng buto dahil sa ginawa niya but it’s now currently healing. F–ck that woman. 

I went to Italy to take a break from everything. To taste every woman in this place. But again, for the nth time, no one could satisfy me.

Nababaliw na ako. Gusto ko na lang muli maramdaman kung ano ang pakiramdam ng nakikipagtalik. Hindi itong mukha na akong robot a walang maramdaman na kahit ano. Fck.

“There are tendencies that you feel that, Mr. Mordecai. You’ve said you’ve been having sex with countless women since you turned sixteen. It’s been twenty years,” the doctor said.

Aside from taking a vacation, I visited one of the best sex therapists in the country.

I leaned back on the leather chair, running my hands through my hair. “So, what? I’m just broken now?”

The doctor sighed, adjusting his glasses. “It’s not about being broken, Mr. Mordecai. It’s about desensitization. You’ve been engaging in casual sex for twenty years, seeking pleasure without emotional connection. Over time, your brain has adapted, numbing itself to the stimulation.”

I scoffed. “So, what do I do? Stop fucking? That’s not happening.”

Ni minsan hindi sumagi sa isip ko ang tumigil, kahit na wala na akong ibang nararamdaman pa.

The doctor gave me a pointed look. “It’s not just about stopping. It’s about rewiring your mind. You’ve conditioned yourself to seek physical gratification without emotional fulfillment. Now, your body no longer responds the way it used to. Have you ever considered that maybe… It’s not the act itself you crave, but something deeper?”

Alam ko kung ano ang pinapahiwatig niya. It’s just that my mind can’t accept what’s happening with me now.

I clenched my jaw, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “That’s bullshit. I don’t need emotions to enjoy sex. I just need someone who can satisfy me.”

The doctor remained unfazed, tapping his pen against the clipboard. “And yet, you haven’t found that satisfaction, have you? No matter how many women you take to bed, no matter how many nights you spend chasing pleasure, you still feel empty.”

Empty?

But then, the woman in the bar who kissed me suddenly flashed in my head as if she was the only solution to my problem.

I let out a bitter laugh. “So what, you’re saying I should fall in love? Find some deeper meaning in fucking?”

I want that woman in my bed. But falling in love with her? 

Love was not even part of my dictionary. I don’t make love. I just wanted pleasure. A pleasure that satisfies me. A pleasure that could satisfy my sanity—no, a pleasure that could lose my sanity instead.

The doctor smirked slightly. “I’m saying you should ask yourself why you keep searching for something that physical pleasure alone can’t give you. Maybe it’s not your body that’s unsatisfied—it’s you.”

“There’s a newly opened art museum nearby, wanna check it?” Sancho said while browsing something on his phone, never taking his eyes off the screen.

“Anong tingin mo sa’kin? May interes sa art?!” Inis kong bulyaw sa kanya.

Tawang-tawa namang pumasok sa loob ng opisina ko si Alex kasama si Mark na nakangiti lang sa tabi ni Alex habang akay siya ng lalaki.

“Pagkakaalam ko maganda daw may ari ng museum na iyon. Isang sikat na artist mula sa bansang France. It’s her first exhibit here in the Philippines,” komento ni Mark habang malawak ang ngisi. 

Kapag kasing mame-mention nila ang salitang maganda, alam na nilang hindi ako makakatanggi. Pero marami akong kailangang gawin ngayon lalo na’t iniwanan na naman ni Fabian ang trabaho niya sa’min para lang sa pinakamamahal niya!

That’s unfair! Lagi na lang talaga kaming taga-salo ng mga trabaho niya nakakainis!

“Pass. Wala ako sa mood sa ganyan. Marami pang problema ang kompanya ko. Umalis nga kayo rito! Ginugulo niyo ang trabaho ko!”

“Sus! Saglit lang naman iyon. Spending a few minutes in an art museum won’t take up too much of your precious time, Mr. Mordecai.” Pagpupumilit ni Alex.

“Ayoko nga. Unless you’re paying for my time. Every second is too valuable for me, boys—I’m losing millions just sitting here with you. Now, shoo! Get your asses out of my office!"

Nagkatinginan naman silang tatlo kaya napa-poker face ako. Why did I even say that? Now I’m regretting it.

“Considered paid,” Sancho.

“Times two,” Alex said with a grin.

“So? How much is your thirty minutes then, Mr. Mordecai?” 

“Hmm, five million…” tugon ko, pero sana pala tinaasaan ko. Bwiset ka, Niko!

“Deal.”

And I found myself walking down the newly opened art museum. 

As a contractor, the building itself is beautiful. Na para bang nakapasok ako sa isa sa mga sikat na palasyo ng England dahil halos kuha nito ang istraktura ng palasyo, iyon nga lang sa hindi masyadong kalakihan na building at medyo may pinagkaibahan rin.

The three had their businesses, so I was left alone walking down the aisle, watching every piece of art with nothing.

Now I noticed that most of the paintings here are painted with red color. At nang ilibot ko ang tingin ko sa paligid, tama nga ako, lahat ng mga paintings ay kulay pula—na para bang iginuhit gamit ang dugo.

I stood still, my eyes scanning the museum, taking in the eerie yet captivating atmosphere. Dark. Disturbing. Yet undeniably fascinating.

And that’s when I realized—every single piece of art here is erotic.

Each painting depicted the human body in various states of desire—bold, unapologetic, and dripping with raw emotion. But it wasn’t just about eroticism. There was an undeniable darkness in every stroke, something that blurred the line between allure and unease.

It was unsettling, yet I couldn't look away.

A haunting kind of beauty—one that both aroused and disturbed me.

Napalunok ako. I could feel my heartbeat quicken, an odd sensation stirring inside me. It was bold, unapologetic, and undeniably sensual.

F–ck.

Naagaw ang atensyon ko sa kanang gawi ko nang makarinig ako ng sigawan, kaya ng linungin ko iyon ay napupuno ng mga reporters sa paligid ng isang babae. 

She’s wearing a red dress—bold, sexy, and impossible to ignore. It hugs her curves just right, the fabric smooth and flowing with every step she takes. The neckline dips just enough to be teasing, and the slit on the side shows off a glimpse of her leg, making it even harder to look away.

She moves with confidence, completely owning the room. The low lighting makes the red stand out even more like she was made to be the center of attention—effortless, tempting, and stunning. 

Is she seducing everyone?!

Her hair was red, just like her lipstick—a walking goddess, undeniably stunning, stealing the breath of everyone around her. The way she moved, the way her lips curled into the slightest smirk, it was as if she knew the effect she had on people.

Then it hit me.

I knew who she was.

The woman at the bar.

The one with that irresistible allure—dangerous, intoxicating, and impossible to forget.

A true femme fatale.

The woman intrigued me.

The woman aroused me just by hearing her angelic voice.

She walked with confidence, her heels clicking against the marble floor, each step demanding attention. The room seemed to shrink around her presence, eyes drawn to her like moths to a flame.

And yet, as stunning as she was, a warning bell rang in my head.

She wasn’t just beautiful—she was dangerous.

The kind of woman who could make a man forget his name, his purpose, his very existence.

I’m in danger. But the f–ck I care. I’m loving this danger.

I was never interested in art—until I saw her. She looked like a masterpiece come to life, and suddenly, I was addicted.