Page 49 of Significant
“I know, but maybe it was for the best. He moved on now.” I take my phone into my hand before staring at the picture of Aaron and Miss Perfect, his latest conquest. Someagreementsare meant to be broken. Ripped apart. Forgotten.
“I don’t believe he fucked her. The heiress is the daughter of one of his sponsors. He’s just trying to make you jealous.” She pauses a moment. “I know it’s not my place but I hope you’ll talk and put both of your egos aside.” For that, we would need a chance to talk. “Anyway, gotta go, happy birthday again! I hope to see you soon!”
“Me too, thank you.” I hang up and head toward my party, my heart clearly not in it.
A taxi ride later, I arrive at the trendiest nightclub in the city. I meet Joshua’s boyfriend, Fabiano, the handsome Italian model, and force myself to pretend to have fun. The club is crowded with people dancing to the rhythms of the EDM. Bartenders are pouring drinks while jumping to the beats. Smoke. Spotlights. Dancers. It’s an invitation to celebrate. To forget. I drink one shot.My eyes are locked on Tania jumping in the air with Fabiano.Two shots.Joshua asks me if I’m okay, but I’m not. My life went from almost perfect to too complicated. Strong emotions are devastating. Screw it.Three shots.I walk toward Tania, deciding to dance to erase Aaron’s touch.
I pull my head up—looking at the ceiling, which I believe is spinning—putting my hands in the air, trying to catch the multi-color lights. I move my hips slowly and shake my head to the side, feeling all the emotions inside of me as everyone is jumping with one hand in the air. The DJ lets go of the smoke during the drop. I pass my fingers through my hair, playing with it sensually. A man stops behind me, grabbing my waist, rolling his hips next to mine. I feel nothing under the touch of the stranger. He’s not even a good dancer. He’s a distraction. And just for a moment, I allow myself to pretend he is… him. I don’t look back to see the man’s face, I don’t care. I close my eyes and dance, abandoning myself freely. The man caresses the exterior of my thighs before putting his hands on my hips. My short dress lifts until it’s just under my butt. I caress my collarbone. I’m hot. My head is spinning. I hope the sweat of my body will wash away my sins.
I pass my hand into my hair, opening my mouth to catch my breath. The hand of the stranger reaches my butt, squeezing it as if I’m his possession. I push his hand away, realizing all this is wrong. But he insists, and he kisses my naked shoulder, forcing me to stay close to him. I take a step away before he spins me, blocking my torso against his as his hand slides to my butt cheek again, slapping it like I’m a toy he wants to play with.
I push the man away violently, shaking my head. I feel so weak. He is not Aaron. He doesn’t treat me like he does. The man doesn’t care for my approval. He yanks me back to him, a vicious smile on his face, reaching for my lips with his disgusting breath. I pull my head away, my eyes searching for my friends.Let me go. I feel someone grabbing my hand and jerking me away from the stranger.
“What the fuck are you doing?” a man with a husky voice yells at me.Am I hallucinating?When I dare to look up, it’s him.
My obsession.
My downfall.
My heartbreak.
Wolf is standing in front of me, his eyes gunning me. They are red from anger, dark as hell. He is wearing an elegant black dress shirt with dress pants the same color. He’s even more magnetic than in my memory. I’m confused between hating him or drowning in him. I’m halfway between hell and heaven, incapable to choose which path to take.
“You want to get fucked by an asshole in a dirty club? Is it what you want, seriously, Elle? Fuck!” he screams, clutching my wrist.
And I’m mad.
The stranger tried to steal me—more than a kiss—and yet I’m the one at fault? I push Aaron away while shaking my head in affront. Wolf made me forgot how some men can be disgusting, and how I could feel worthless, a sexual object to them. But he isn’t better. Once again, he doesn’t trust me.
“Worthless whore,” the stranger I danced with insults me.
I close my eyes, swallowing the insult while lowering my dress. Women are whores if their dresses are too short, too tight. Women ask to get fucked if they dress up in such a way. What a great society. Men can make us feel ashamed of our freedom.
When I open my eyes, Aaron is not in front of me anymore. He has grabbed the man by the collar, his jaw clenching, his veins popping from his muscles tensing. His eyes narrow at the stranger like he’s about to break him. And when the stranger laughs, Wolf punches him brutally, sending him to the ground. The stranger lands with a loud bang, bleeding from his nose, his eyes bugging out at Aaron with fear. Everyone around us is too busy dancing to pay attention to us.
“You don’t call a woman a whore. Especially not my woman.”His woman?Aaron grabs the man’s shirt and lifts him up with his fist. “Apologize. Now.”
“I’m sorry man, I didn’t mean this,” the stranger gurgles.
“Now, get the fuck out.” Wolf pushes him violently toward the exit, letting him run like a coward.
Aaron turns back to me, his expression Tartarean. He rolls up his sleeve to hide the blood on his cuff. I take a step away from him, fighting the magnetism that draws us together. But Wolf doesn’t let me—he grabs my arm and joins our bodies together. He is dominating me with his height, his superior gaze trying to intimidate me, but he doesn’t get to me anymore.
The moment I stopped being enough for him, he lost me. He thinks he can fuck her and get back to whatever we had? I’m not his toy. My veins are boiling with anger. Fury twist inside of me. I’m about to explode. I’m not the second option. I push him away again, my hand hitting his hard chest, but he doesn’t move. Everyone is dancing, jumping, while our eyes are stuck in warfare. We aren’t moving, only our invisible demons are dancing around us, celebrating our downfall.
“Let me go, Aaron.” I was wrong. There are three words I could say to him.
I hate you.
I despise you.
You broke me.
“Why?” His eyes are defying mine. “I told you, I don’t like to share. And I won’t share you,” he threatens me.
I feel worthless to him at this moment. First, I have no idea what he’s doing here. Second, he believes he can claim ownership on me. Like I’m just a business deal gone wrong. Third, he made it clear on the phone he couldn’t care less about me.
“You’re not my boyfriend. ‘I fuck who I want, and you fuck who you want.’ Your words.” I want to hurt him the way he hurt me. I push him once more, rage searing through me.
