FORMERLY

Chapter 5

I ran my hands down the length of my dress. It was beautiful, but the colour bit too girly for my taste. It was something I would have worn when I was younger. However, the fit of the dress was nothing innocent and young; the clinging dress ended high on my thighs and the neckline was plunging.

I slowly made my way out of the car, which had been sent by mystery guy to my apartment, and into the club.

The music was pounding, and I remember that I had no way to find mystery guy—no description, no name, nothing. Thoughts about heading home flooded my thoughts since the guy could potentially be dangerous, however, Leslie's words rang in my head. Two millions. I wouldn't pass that over anytime.

Instead of looking for him, I went to sit at the bar. Since he knew what I was wearing, he could be the one to look for me. I ordered a light drink, not anything too heavy so that I would stay sober.

My first drink was gone in ten minutes, so I ordered another one. That one, along with the next one, was gone in half an hour. However, mystery guy was still a no show, and my thoughts about staying sober went out the window.

Somewhere during my fourth drink, I got bored with waiting and went to the dance floor. Screw waiting for him. I can have fun all by myself.

The dance floor was bodies against bodies with barely enough room to squeeze in. I somehow ended up pushing to the middle where I let the flow of the crowd carry me.

Everyone was tipsy and laughing like they were up in the clouds. It was infectious, since the next second, I, too, was swaying my hips into the guy behind me and smiling like I had no care in the world.

I felt the person behind me grab onto my waist and grind back into me. Our bodies were like fire, burning up, partly from the number of people, but mostly from the atmosphere that was saturated with hormones, drugs, and alcohol.

I almost forgot that I was here as an appointment.

That is, until I felt my current grinding partner replaced by someone else. The new guy slid behind me smoothly and clutched onto my hips. He took charge and pressed my hips onto his.

The guy moved his lips against my ears. I could feel the breath of butterflies flutter on my neck that left me with a shiver.

"You look good in the dress—the colour suits you much better than I thought." He whispered, never stopping his control over my hips.

I froze immediately. This must be the guy that booked me.

I spun around to look at him, but I was too fast and underestimated the distance between us. I ended up with only an atom's thickness from his face. One slight twitch and my lips would be on his.

However, the bigger problem here was that I recognised the man before me. His eyes, the colour of hard, blue glass, were shaded by his sharp brow bone, and he was looking right through me. He looked dark and dangerous, like he could devour me. I had encountered dangerous clients before, but even their violence and reputations never got to me. However, he, wordlessly and with only his eyes, made my skin curl and fingers cold and numb

I stepped back to move away from him, but the club was so crowded that I was pushed right back into his chest, closer than ever.

"Mr. Chase." I whispered. "What are you doing here." It sounded more like a statement than a question since both he and I knew exactly what he was doing here.

He curled his lips into a smile. "I told you I was interested in your services. You didn't agree, but your manager didn't seem to mind so much."

"I...I told you already, Mr. Chase, that I am not interested in playing a part in your stupid fantasies about a dead girl. Nor am I interested in you, period." I tried my best to sound confident, but I was stuttering and my voice wavered like a leaf. The alcohol also finally hit me, and I was half standing and half leaning on him

"It's just one night Laurielle, one night and it'll be over." He stroked my cheeks.

"So that's what you're after? Just one night and you won't call me or text me or ever talk to me again?" I asked. Considering the fact that this one night would mean two million dollars, his offer didn't sound half bad.

"You don't need to even pretend to be her." Then he scoffed, "you couldn't do it even if you tried. Just do what you normally do to any other client, you get your money. Deal?" He reasoned.

I thought for a second. Perhaps it was the alcohol speaking, or I was just plain stupid, but the next moment, I pressed my lips onto his.

"Deal." I said. "Take me. Have that angry sex that you want. Treat me like a whore, but just remember that I'm not her."

With that, Asher's eyes flashed and he dragged me out of the club.

"Oh I'll treat you like that bitch that you want to be." He promised