Wisdom’s POV
“When will I taste your lips again, Wisdom?”
The bastard has still a gut to say that to me, to face me in this garden. To touch my waist with his rough, sinful hands.
“Get off of me, Gerry!”
But my former boss just cackled; his voice is a death bell to my ears. “When will you leave me alone?!”
His nose flared as he closed the distance between us. The scent of cigarettes almost made me sneeze. His left, raspy hands crawled to my waist until it reached my chest. “I thought we have a pinkie promise that we will never be separated, hmm?”
I swallowed my fear and shoved it down into my stomach where it would hopefully be digested. My feet are on the urge of fleeing away and retreating behind Verity—mom’s—back.
“Thinking of running away, eh?” He glanced at my feet then to my eyes. His hand made its way beside my mouth, a few inches away from my lips. “What good do you think you can gain from running away from me again, Linnea?”
“Because I can take a poop.” The bastard just laughed in a boisterous manner. “I see you take no shit, then,” he muttered.
Then the garden became quiet, as if this is more of a home of eternally sleeping people than a sanctuary for plants. Even if I release a scream, I doubt that no one will recognize it as a shout for help. It will just echo, leaving me in Gerry’s hands once again.
“You can put it that way,” I answered.
His hand was still on my face. But in a blink, his other hand is now on my ass. His two hands are now a cage and my body is a bird—a rebellious bird that only Denver Giordano can tame.
“Kiss me, Wisdom.” I can now hear footsteps from afar. The garden has some fancy entrance in which a metal formed into swirling designs, arching to the opposite end and is bombarded with different kinds of flora, making it look like a wedding entrance. I cannot see what’s behind me and it’s only Gerry who can discern the approaching person or people from where he was standing.
“Kiss me, Linnea,” he repeated, demanded. “Or I will play our first ever sex video in front of everyone later on dinner.”
Like a submissive young lady with a trembling body, I nodded.
And I did what he ordered.
I just imagined that I am on a film set and this kiss is a part of the script to make my feelings light and unbothered.
“Wisdom?”
Just by the tone and darkness of his masculine voice from behind, I can already tell who it was—and the fact he just witnessed this.
Shaking and scared, I forced myself to turn around, holding my desire to punch Gerry on the throat and kick his dick.
“Denver…” I inhaled.
***
Dyana’s POV
Denver is walking away from the garden.
My brows furrowed. When I was about to talk to him a minute ago, he told me he’s just going to the garden to breathe fresh air.
But it turns out, his face radiates more of exasperation and anger. My curiosity guided my feet towards the path of the garden, and there they were—Gerry and Wisdom, whose bodies were only an inch from each other.
I crossed my arms over my chest and now I understand why Denver walked away, and what is the possible scenario considering their bodies’ language and their facial expressions.
“Denver!” I called out to him, who is quite a distance from me now but I purposely bellowed out his name so that Wisdom could hear.
Gerry was holding Wisdom by the waist and, upon hearing me shriek her fiancé’s name, she tried to push Gerry away from her, disregarding the fact that he may fall in the man-made lake in this spacious garden.
“Denver!” I forced my legs to sprint towards him, ignoring the fact that I just had a bike injury last week.
“Denver Giordano!” I called out at him again. And this time, he turned towards me.
“What?” he asked.
***
Denver’s POV
At least the dinner was sumptuous. The braised beef and buttered scallops and a can of cold, cold lemon soda were enough to make me forget what I just witnessed earlier.
“You and Wisdom seem to be not holding hands while walking as you arrive here in the grand ballroom,” said my worried mother. “In fact, you did not come here at the same time.”
I just shrugged my shoulders and pretended to turn around from the door.
“There she is!” Verity grabbed my hand and compelled me to look at the newly arrived Goddess. “She’s blooming as ever.”
Luckily, I managed to crawl out from my mother’s grip since she’s busy admiring Wisdom’s impeccable beauty which even I couldn’t resist.
I went to the gazebo because I know all the people will be busy looking and staring at Wisdom and her glittering golden silk gown that glints in everyone’s eyes—men and women alike.
I loved her. There’s no doubt about that. But, despite how strong a wall of love is, there are always those who want to take it down and leave it shattered into fragments.
Desiring to clear my mind, I drew the cigarettes from my pocket and lit it.
“Shit!” Glad that I just whispered it in the cold breeze of the night.
Dyana is walking towards me with her bloody red dress. I wonder what is the purpose of her dress when it couldn’t even clothed her legs properly from the cold environment.
I just remained glued to where I am, casually leaning in a pillar to give one a notion that I am not anxious. That my hands were not quivering. That my teeth were not chattering.
“Good evening, Denver.”
I throw her a firm look. She sounds so calm and unbothered. She doesn’t even look cold. Her nipples are sticking out from her chest, as if the red dress were just blandly covering her body rather to keep her warm and cloak it away from predatory eyes.
She didn’t even bother to cover her visible tits. I’m just the one who simply diverted my gaze.
“The cold night is so sweet,” she remarked.
Seriously? Sweet? Has she been doing drugs?
I cleared my throat before replying. “Is it?”
Dyana glared at me. “I mean…isn’t the night always sweet?”
“Oh Denver!” Then her arms spread wide and wrapped it around my body—as if she had the right to do that.
I ‘softly’ pushed her away. “Someone may see us, Dyana.”
“What is it for me?” she countered.
“Seriously?!” My tone immediately shifted from a tamed dog to a feral cat. “Perhaps you forget, you are only here because you have once worked for me.”
“Once?” she hoisted her brows. “I have fucked you for a several times!” Dyana bellowed.
“Hush it, you bitch!”
“Bitch? Ohh…” she traced my lips with her red-colored fingers. “What will your parents say when their son calls their former employee a bitch? Knowing that they have already bragged to all other elites that the C.E.O. of the company is renowned to treat women like a treasure rather than a property.”
I slowly walked towards her, step by step. And in every step, she also motioned backward.
“I am still a man, Dyana Stevens,” I whispered with my hair-raising dark voice. A cool wind blew in our direction. “And women like you are worthy to be served to men with your head on a plate.”
In a heartbeat, just as the thunder rumbled, Dyana kicked me, causing me to fall.
Right on top of her lips.