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6. Survival of Fittest

And that red top. Someone whispered from within.

Intrigued by the voice, I give one more glance at her clothes. Not actually at her clothes, but whats hidding underneath.

Her breasts appear bigger than before and those hips, they have gained a curve that my eyes keep slipping on. I take a picture of her in my mind, updating my current files.

“You look different.” The words skid out of my mouth.

An upsurge of thumps is felt in my chest as her forest sunshine eyes jolt up and look into mine.

Beautiful.

“Yeah. I don’t colour my hair now.” She tucks her hair back kittenishly.

I feel a pull in my chest, but ignore it as I correct her misconception. “Not hair. You gained weight.”

Once again, my eyes follow the law of gravity, down on her and my loins pleases with what they see.

“I look fat?” Hazel eyes widen at me in shock.

Is she kidding me? She looks marvelous. More stunning than she ever looked.

She is dressed so simple, with hardly any evidence of makeup, yet my beast couldn’t stop salivating at her.

I look away, feeling like a creep and walk away before saying, “You look better.”

I turn around as I don’t feel her heat closer to me anymore and watch her engulfed staring at the painting in my cabin.

Ah! That controversial painting which depicts brutal bestiality.

I bought it the moment my eyes lay on the art, and its funny how it caught her eyes as well.

“This is a 1947 masterpiece by Eduard Paisea from Austria. It’s called Minotaur and Erine.” I say as I stare at the painting as well.

Minotaur, a beast taking the innocence of a village girl was the most disturbed and disputed painting of that time.

It was just as twisted as me and right then I decided I want it.

“This was my first painting I ever bought.” I tell her as if she needed to know it.

I remember how I paid a hundred and thousand dollars extra to win it in an auction.

If my beast likes it, I’ll have it anyhow.

“Minotaur was always looked as a terrifying monster that lived on human flesh. But in real, he was just an unlucky kid, who was thrown into a labyrinth of darkness and curses.” Just like me.

I never chose to be a monster. The world forced me to step up as one.

Just like Darwin said in his theory of Survival of the fittest, only the strongest one in the species will survive.

“And this painting depicts exactly what everyone saw him as. A beast. But now, he enjoys it.”

And I enjoy it too.

“I didn’t know you were fond of mythologies.” Emara tell me. Her hazel eyes look so deep into mine as if she can see my soul. Something that I don’t even have.

A beat pokes into my chest, and I feel my heart again. It pumps soft and hard at the same time.

I want to know so much more about her. I want to tell her so much about me.

“Do you have time for another coffee?” So many unspoken words flutter on my tongue while I just stare at her face.

Emara blinks at me. Her cheeks tingle with redness as she sheepishly says, “I don’t think so. I already took a lot of time for this interview.”

I feel another poke in my chest, but this time it is not my heartbeat. It is the pain from rejection.

“Not even ten minutes?” My voice comes out like a beg and it ticks my brain more.

I don’t remember when was the last time I sounded like that. In fact, I don’t even remember when I was last rejected for a coffee.

Or for anything!

But I don’t want to let her go. I don’t know what I am going to do with her in ten minutes, all I know is I don’t want her to leave me. Again.

Emara bites her lips sheepishly and I feel another thrust in my chest. Her dark lashes blink shyly as she says, “I think a coffee would be fin-”

“I think not. I have a meeting.” I swiftly say as I look at my watch for schedule.

Irritation blend in my blood and I scowl irkly. I cancelled back to back my two important meetings for her and she couldn’t even spare fucking ten minutes to have coffee with me.

ME.

Dakota Black, the CEO of HighBars System.

People beg me to spare a glance at them and here, I was giving her the most expensive thing of my life.

My time.

Fuck it. Fuck her.

I open the gate of my cabin and show her the way out. I want her gone from my life as fast as possible.

I can’t bear to look at her eyes, that innocent face or curves of her body. Everything about her irritates me.

Get out!

“Um-yea. Bye.” She looks at me with her deep gaze of hesitation.

I give her a nod. My knuckles turn pale as I clutch hard on the handle of the door.

Lara walks up to her to escort her out. A needle of pain passes through my chest as I watch her walk away.

Stop.

Stop her!

Something screams inside of me, and my grip on the handle tightens as she continues to get far, away from my reach. I just want to see her once, just one-

And suddenly, she looks back at me. I feel a nerve pull inside my chest and I do the hardest gulp as I look into her eyes again.

You are mine.

Emara Stone.

Mine.

She goes down along with the elevator while I still stand there and imagine her coying eyes on me. Three years ago, I watched her walking away after destroying my life. Just like this.

And I did nothing.

But I am not the same guy anymore. I will bring a tsunami into her happy Disney world and watch her drown in pain.

Run Emara.. Run.

“Sir?”

I jerk away from my mental planning and look at my secretary Stacey. Her eyes blink at me from behind the glasses as she reminds me in a loud aural voice. “The meeting with project team-”

“Yeah. Are they all ready?” I ask her loosening my tie. Suddenly I feel so confiscated in my clothes.

“Yes, sir. In the conference room.”

“Okay. Cancel it.” I tell her.

“What?” She gapes at me in surprise and I frown in return. Her voice is really loud against Emara’s soft vocal.

“And re-schedule all the meetings of today.” I inform her and shut the door of my cabin to get some privacy.

I open my suit’s button and peel the jacket out of my skin as I feel suffocated. The watch on my wrist buzzes, warning me of my racing heartbeats.

I rummage through the drawers in search of my hyper stress pill. Ever since she walked in, my heart refuses to slow down.

I am sweating and feel like I can’t breathe. It’s happening again!

I gulp a xanax and rest on my chair, looking up at the ceiling. Pulses bang in my ears while I keep my eyes open and breathe in and out deeply.

I am fucked.

Unrepairably fucked!

She did this to me, but I’ll do her worse. I’ll be a living nightmare for her. And she will regret she ever crossed me.

I ask my secretary to write an email to the Pegasus Publications, as a completion acknowledgement of the interview and edit the post script as..

P.S. Best wishes to Miss Stone for publishing her wolf book. Waiting eagerly to read it :)

Warm regards,

From, Dakota Black.

Co-founder CEO HighBars Sys.

And send my first step of revenge.

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