Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionaire’s Desire: Owned By Him : Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

She stopped the driver a few miles from her apartment.“I’d stop here” she said“Sure. But can I at least know where you live? There are no houses here”“I said I’d stop here. What don’t you understand about that” She said rudely.She dropped from the car and walked into the Z hotel, still tired and unshowered from last night. She entered the elevator to the rooftop.She ordered a bottle of Hennessy which she drank until she could no longer think, blurring the margins of her mind until she was numb. Zara couldn’t reason anymore, she sat on the high stool burrowed into the depths of her despair.Her eyes were glassy red with unsaid things and her hair scattered and loose.“You know what else is worse than satan? Men! Men!” she said to the unfortunate bartender who looked at her like a mad woman and wondered why the universe had decided to bring such a woman to his table early this morning. She pushed out her glass for a refill.“One more” she said“I’m sorry ma’am you’ve had a full b

He had to run somewhere, to unclog his mind, to shake it free of dust. It was a casino bar in downtown New York City. The dimly lit room had the low murmur of voices from men and women on gambling tables, the clicking of the roulette wheel, the wafting of cigar smoke and the swirl of whiskey from glasses.“Man, that’s the third flop in a row,” Peter muttered as he leaned over the snooker table, squinting at the shot like it owed him money.Peter, let out a loud laugh from the far end of the table, where he had just sunk a tricky ball with ease. “Whoop whoop! That’s a good one!” He slapped hands with Marcus.“New ball, Nat,” Marcus called out.Greg took his cue, slumping a very unenthusiastic shot as he wasn’t exactly in the mood to win tonight.“Hey, man, what’s wrong?” Peter asked, his voice became concerned. He walked over, setting his cue stick down as he leaned in closer. “Shoot them balls, not… whatever’s going on with you.”Nat dropped the snooker, and sighed and drank his whis

The front door’s chime warned him of a guest. He opened it. A small face appeared, bright and eager.“Daddy!” Johnny cried, charging forward.He dropped to one knee. His heart was warm. He pulled the boy into a tight embrace.“My boy,” he whispered, ruffling his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead.Johnny, dark-haired and brown-eyed, looked just like his father.His clean tapper fade, a buttoned up flannel, diamond chain on his neckband, a jean trousers and air jordan sneakers, made him look very much the cool billionaire’s kid. “How are you, my boy?” he asked.“I’m fine,” Johnny said. He paused.“Daddy… I miss you.”Nat’s chest suddenly tightened. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your football game the other day.”“You said you would.” Johnny said. He still felt a tinge of betrayal.“I promise I'll make it up to you. We’ll go get ice cream tonight, okay?”“Okay.” he beamed, his smile showing his milk teeth, an array of cowries, shining, glistening white.He glanced down at J

She tried again a second time. Scott.From his profile, she observed he was a basketball player in his tracks. He was 7ft tall, muscled and dark skin with long dreadlocks. He wasn’t exactly handsome but he was very masculine in a way that intrigued her.When they met at a bar, his height fascinated her. She felt her heart thump as she was now a little damsel before a giant man.He did not say ‘hi’ or anything. He just hugged her aggressively, she felt so incredibly small, swallowed up in his embrace. Zara was in reverent awe. She looked at his outfit, a tight dark green T-shirt that hugged his muscular arms, a jeans belted at his waist, and sneakers. To be a basketballer it seemed was to always look cool.She remembered the looks of Stephen Curry, and James Harden and of course, Michael Jordan the legendary she saw on Tv.Scott ordered burger, fried chicken and chips with ketchup syrup, regularly dipping them in sauces.She had seafood Alfredo pasta. She desperately wanted to have t

The room had two beds covered in white sheets. The masseur, a woman in her uniform, placed their feet in cold yoghurt. Before she did, she had asked them, a little too cheerful.“Would you like your feet soaked in plain vanilla, whipped cream or strawberry flavor?”“What do you think? he asked Zara, as he sat down in shirts and a tight T-shirt”“We’d take all three,” Zara said, overjoyed, her teeth shining white.“This…is ... .so…cool” she stammered and rolled her eyes in ecstasy while Nat just simply smiled at her. It seemed weird to him, even sordid. It was her idea, sure, but he would never on his own decide to visit any spa, not alone put his foot in yoghurt.“So this is what your kinda fun is?” he raised his glasses and peered at her from the side.“Aren’t you enjoying it?”“Yeah pretty much, a bit awkward but relaxing though” he admitted“Of course it is,” she turned to the women now, smiling brightly at both of them and raising their feet in the water.“We’d get our toes done?