At Her Store.
1687 Words
Chapter 7.
My fingers curled beside me and I blinked back the tears that formed at the back of my eyes.
I would never break before him. Never.
My gaze lingered on his body then….
“f**k you!” I gritted, running up the stairs as fast as my wobbling legs could carry me.
By the time Leo called after me, I was already dragging my suitcase from the closet and shoving clothes into it with reckless, furious hands.
If he wanted to laugh at me, to reduce me to some bargaining chip, then let him laugh without me.
I was done.
I slammed the suitcase shut and dragged it down the hall.
“You think you can run just by packing your stuff?” Leo’s mocking words echoed but I ignored him.
I have absolutely nothing to say to him, and absolutely no more reason to stay here.
My vision blurred from the tears that filled my lids but I still managed to drag my suitcase to the parking lot, throwing it into the booth of the low-maintenance car I had gotten some months back to help ease taxi stress.
I slipped into the car and my grip on the wheel tightened so hard my knuckles almost turned white.
I didn’t know which burned… the fact that Leo saw me as some tool to win contracts or the fact that Maxwell knew Leo and all of this wasn’t even coincidental.
By the time I pulled out of the driveway, my hands were shaking around the steering wheel and my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing against it.
I sniffed back the tears in my eyes, staring back at the unknown caller who wouldn’t stop calling my phone.
I didn’t know who was calling but for some unknown reason, something kept propelling me to pick up.
So I picked up the call and placed it on speaker.
“Hello…” The calm and composed voice came in and the air in the car stilled.
My grip on the wheel tightened as I recognized his voice like I had known it for years.
It was Maxwell, the same man who had made me feel good only to ruin it with decite.
I shut the thought away and braced myself to accept that he wasn’t as good as I thought.
“Why are you calling me?” I asked firmly, trying not to sound as broken as I already am.
“It’s been hours since you left. I needed to make sure you are fine.”
“Thank you so much, but I do not need your fake care.”
A deafening silence dropped on the line for some seconds, then his voice came in again.
“I do care about you…” He said, but I didn’t let him finish. I just gripped the phone, ended the call, and threw it across the chair.
There was nothing here to talk about. Not about yesterday and certainly not about the fact that he knew Leo and everything between us was more than a mutual connection.
Silence washed over me as I pulled into my space for the moment, but that silence only lasted for some minutes, because his call came in again.
I declined, settling into the space, but he was persistent and kept calling.
The knot in my chest pulled tighter, and with each rejection, I could almost feel his patience thinning across the line.
Amidst the pressure of his non-ending calls, I switched my phone off, choosing peace over drama.
*
The next day.
Today was different, not because I had been able to soothe my heart, but because I was at work and I could bury every grief into it.
There was something about tending to customers and helping them pick jewelry that soothed my pain.
Here, I work as a manager at this beautiful all-jewelry store and just the sight of jewelry made my smile glow.
The door to the store opened and I wore my usual smile, directing my gaze to the door. “Welcome sir…..” I said but my smile dropped as soon as I saw the person before it.
My breath hitched, the air in my lungs vanishing as my heart gave a hard thump.
Maxwell.
What is he doing here?
For a second, my legs wobbled under me, and I gripped the counter to stay upright.
How did he get here? Did he conduct research?
The questions flooded my mind and the anger from yesterday came back like it never subsided.
I glared harder at him, my blood roaring in my ear.
But amidst all pain, there was something about the way his eyes held mine. Sharp, dark, and lethal, but most noticeable….certain.
A hint of anger flickered in his eyes. I could tell clearly that he was angry u had ignored his call, but beneath those anger-filled eyes, a hunger burned darker. The same hunger that had swallowed me whole between his sheets.
My throat tightened at the memory of his body pressed against mine.
I shouldn’t be thinking about any of this. I should be angry. I should feel betrayed, I should be boiling from within, but all the anger from yesterday vanished like it never existed.
And the only thing that mattered was the way those eyes never let me go even when I was trembling apart beneath him.
My p***y pulsed, conflicting with the feeling in my chest.
We glared at each other across the room, but it didn’t feel like a glare. It felt like his gaze was peeling the layers of my dress away, reminding me of how naked and bare I had been beneath him, how shamelessly I had moaned his name while he made me cry on his c**k.
Heat crawled up my neck, shame mixing with an ache that pulsed low in my belly. Shouldn’t I be mad? Shouldn’t I look away and act like nothing happened? Why was every nerve in my body crawling?
Why wasn’t I concerned about how he found me and why he was here?
My chest hammered and the tension grew thicker until an assistant walked in, breaking the thick silence.
“Welcome, sir,” Mira, a co-staff, greeted, her presence easing the tension a bit, but Maxwell didn’t spare her a glance. His eyes stayed locked on me like I was the only one in the room.
“I need jewelry,” he said, his voice low, smooth, and almost taunting… like he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Because he did.
Mira blinked, then asked, “What type of jewelry, sir?”
He dragged his eyes down my body, slow and deliberate, before he answered, “Whatever fits a fair-skinned lady with chestnut hair.”
My chest clenched. He wasn’t just buying jewelry. He was making sure I felt every thread of desire.
Mira spared me a confused glance, then nodded nervously and headed to the display.
The moment she left, I cleared my throat, braced myself, and whispered sharply, “What are you doing here?”
His lips twitched slightly, but he didn’t look away. “Buying jewelry.”
“Maxwell…” My voice trembled, half warning, half plea then his gaze softened and he took a small step closer. “You weren't picking up my call.”
A feeling curled at my chest but I didn't know if it was pain or guilt, so I looked away. “There is nothing to talk about.
A soft hush fell over the room, loud and defending.
Maxwell exhaled a breath and I watched through the corners of my eyes as he slipped his fingers into his pocket, looking away for only a second.
I settled into the silence, basking in the softness of the moment.
At this point I just wanted peace. I was sincerely tired of the whole drama. And my heart still hates him for playing me.
His gaze softened just a fraction, but the heat there never wavered. It lingered on my body, letting it burn until my skin prickled and my thighs pressed together without thinking.
When Mira returned, she came back with a Graff Pink Sapphire Choker. My eyes widened, but I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked away. That necklace was expensive. Way too expensive. But I doubt if he minded.
“This will look good on her,” Mira said with a bright smile.
“Good.” His answer was curt, his eyes still locked on mine. He placed his card on the table without looking at the price.
Then his voice cut through the silence, smooth but commanding.
“Swipe my card to pay for it… and have Clara deliver it to me.”
The words rang in my ears, sinking straight into my chest.
I froze, staring at him with wide eyes and disbelief. My jaw slacked. Deliver it? Personally?
His eyes glinted, knowing and daring me to refuse.
My lips parted to argue, but he gave me one last lingering glare… dark, mischievous, and burning… then turned on his heel and walked away.
The slam of the door echoed through the store, but the heat of his presence didn’t leave with him. It clung to me, heavy and shameful, making my heart race and my walls throb.
“That was harsh.” Mira flinched, fumbling with the necklace.
A scoff slipped past my lips, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the door. I allowed it to linger like if I stared long enough, he might step back in.
All this… just to have me close to him?
How petty. And yet… how soothingly dangerous.
My chest pounded fast, shame and heat crawling beneath my skin as the memory of his hands on me rushed back like a fire I couldn’t put out.
He knew what he was doing. This wasn’t just about jewelry. This was about me. About us. About dragging me back to him… until the only thing I knew was how to be his. But I promise. Delivering this to him would be strictly for business. Nothing else.
- Writer
