Billionaire Daredevil In Love

Nadine:

I walked out of the house feeling a tiny sense of triumph, but just a tiny one. I knew that the war had begun and I was going to be the only casualty. But I had other things on my plate. I had to go visit Anna, and I had decided that I would tell her about Naomi's death. Better to do it at once and get it over with. During the drive, we passed by the bar where Naomi worked, where I had worked before Clayton abducted me. A rush of memories filled my head. I remembered how Naomi and I had met, how we had slowly gotten close. When I started to weep, it was loud and ugly, so loud, the driver couldn't help but be solicitous.

"Are you okay back there, ma'am?" He said.

"Yes, I'm fine," I said, raising my head. "Just drive."

When we got to the hospital, I went straight to Anna's ward. She was sitting upright, a blank look on her face. She brightened up a bit when she saw me, and I wrapped her in a hug. "How're you doing, baby girl?" I asked.

"Fine, I guess," she said. But I could see that she was missing Naomi.

"Something wrong?" I asked, already becoming jittery when I realized that I would have to break Naomi's death to her soon.

"Erm... Yeah," she said. "Naomi isn't back yet. Quite unlike her; I haven't seen her since the day before yesterday."

"Erm, baby, there's something I would like to tell you," I said, my voice shaky. "But you must promise to be strong."

"What happened, Nadine?" She asked.

"Promise me," I said, tears running down my cheeks. "Promise me that you'll be strong."

The irony was not lost on me that I was imploring my younger sister to be strong while I was breaking down in front of her, but I had to say something.

"Oh, my God, Nadine," Anna said and pulled me closer to her, embracing me warmly. "What happened? Did something happen to Naomi?"

I pulled away from her, wiped the tears from my eyes and looked at her in her brown eyes.

"She got stabbed by a drunk customer in the bar, Anna," I explained. "And unfortunately, she lost a lot of blood."

Anna looked at me like I was talking gibberish. I shut my eyes and opened them, and she was still staring.

"B-but she's still alive, right?" She asked, her voice already becoming heavy with forming tears. "She's still... Please, tell me she's alive. Tell me she did not die, Nadine. Tell me!"

"I can't," I said, shaking my head. "I'm sorry, Anna, but she died yesterday."

Anna fell backwards.

Natasha:

I couldn't believe that Nadine talked back to me, and worse still, I couldn't believe that Mrs. Rocco just watched.

"That was funny," she said, after laughing. I wondered what was so funny.

"No, it wasn't," I said.

"It was, Natasha," she said. "Look, if you really want to get to her, don't demean yourself in her presence, there should be no self-deprecation when you throw your jabs. Make sure you hold your head high and be as brutal as possible. Don't say anything about how much it hurt you to lose Clayton, just say whatever you can to spite her, and for that reason only. Is that fucking clear?!?!"

The sound of her cussing made me wince.

"Yes, yes, I'll do that," I said.

"Good," she said with a nod. "Now, my son is upstairs in his room. You know where it is. Go and meet him."

I stood up and started for the stairs.

Clayton:

It had been a long day. Amidst me trying to clear my head of Trent's misadventures and coping with my mother mentally torturing Nadine. I didn't care about Nadine, though, just that my mother had the tendency of dragging me into it most times. I heard a knock on my door.

"Who's there?" I said aloud.

"Who else?" A familiar voice said, and when the door opened, I might as well have seen a ghost because I was stunned.

"Natasha?" I said.

"Yes, it's me," she replied. She closed the door behind her, but did not step an inch further into the room.

"Wha-what are you doing here?" I asked.

"Visiting," she simply said. "Your mother called. Are you surprised?"

I remembered my mother saying something about inviting her; I thought she was bluffing.

"But-but-" I started.

"Ohh, please, Clayton, save your fucking breath," I said. "This isn't the first time that I'm coming here. Because you married that sick cunt doesn't disallow me from paying you visits."

She started to walk closer to me, in that slow, alluring style that always sent blood rushing to my groins. She smiled coyly as she did.

"So does she sleep here?" She asked, tilting my chin upwards. She was so close I imagined she could hear the thumping of my heart.

"What? No. No, she doesn't," I said. "She has her own bedroom."

"Excellent," she said, widening her smile. "I thought you would be foolish enough to have her sleep inside of a room that was and still is sacred to our relationship."

She stopped and gave me a small kiss on the lips. She stroked the hair on my chin, and I was instantly filled with a want, a desire. I wanted to grab her and have my way, but I knew I had to tread softly. "So does this mean you have forgiven me?" I asked desperately. "Does this mean you're not pissed anymore?"

"Ohh, that?" She said, "We'll see, Clayton."

She stopped and started to kiss me again, this time slipping her tongue into my mouth. I grabbed her ass and squeezed and she started to unbutton my shirt. She shoved me onto the bed and lay on me. "One thing now, though, Clayton," she said. "This time, we're going to run this relationship solely on my terms, understand?"

I nodded. We began to kiss as fiercely as before.