ELIJAH

"Ahh... Fuck…”

“Damn… Ahh, fuck me… fuck me… Elijah, baby… Please… Ahh. Fuck me… Ah!”

“You're so tight and wet! Fuck it!” Ahh… Fuck!”

I'm there. I can feel it. I squeezed her boobs harshly as if holding to my sanity. 

I gave her a long thrust that made her moan long and loud before I convulsed. 

I immediately stood up, grabbed the condom, tossed it in the trash, and picked up my phone from the nightstand. 

I couldn't help but feel irritated when I still saw no reply from her. 

Me: Where are you?  

Me: I saw you with your friend yesterday.  

Me: Hey?  

Me: I saw your bank statement and you're running out of money.  

I was so frustrated I could have thrown my phone against the wall!

“Is that Eloise Hart that I know?” 

Before I could type a reply, I felt someone wrap their arms around my back.

“Not your business,” I replied, irritation creeping into my tone. 

She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed with my response. “Come on, I was just asking. You don’t have to be so uptight.”

I ignored her. I wonder where she is right now? Bar hopping? Gambling? Racing? 

That woman is really making me insane! I need to talk to her! But before I could type anything, the girl spoke up, her voice dripping with disdain. 

“Honestly, what’s so special about Eloise? Did you hear about all the scandals she’s been in this year? It's like she's trying to be the center of attention after her husband's death.”

I felt my jaw clench at her words. “What do you mean?” 

Now she had my full attention. It dawned on me that this woman wasn’t even attractive. Lust really does make you blind.

She shrugged. “I heard from my friends that Eloise is nothing but a joke. I mean, she’s been racing and getting into fights like she’s some kind of tough girl. It’s embarrassing, really. How can you even think she’s—”

Before she could finish her words, I snapped. 

In one swift motion, I grabbed her by the collar, pulling her closer. “You don’t get to talk about her like that! You don’t know a damn thing about her life or what she’s been through.”

Her eyes widened in shock, and I could see the fear creeping in. “Elijah, let go!” she gasped, trying to wriggle free.

I released her, my anger boiling just beneath the surface. “Watch your mouth. If you ever say anything like that again, you won’t just have to worry about gossip,” I warned, taking a step back to regain my composure. 

She straightened her clothes, looking flustered. “Whatever, it was just a joke,” she muttered, but I could see the hesitation in her eyes. 

“Spread gossip like that and I swear you will never see the sun again,” I shot back, my heart still racing. 

I turned away from her, feeling a mix of frustration and protectiveness. 

Eloise deserved better than the trash people said about her, and I wasn’t going to let anyone belittle her, especially not some random slut trying to impress me.

As I got into my car, I couldn’t shake off the anger from the encounter. I needed to clear my head, but just as I turned on the engine, my phone buzzed. It was Vince calling.

“What’s up?” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Elijah, you won’t believe this,” he said, urgency lacing his tone. “Eloise is in jail. Again.”

“What?! What happened?”

“She got into a fight at a race. Some guys were talking shit about her, and she… Well, you know how she is. She ended up breaking one guy’s nose and kicking another in the nuts,” he explained, and I could hear the disbelief in his voice.

“Damn it,” I said, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“Be careful, Dude. You know how your mom is about this stuff,” he warned.

“Forget my mom,” I snapped. “Just tell me where she is.”

Vince relayed the details, and I sped off toward the station, my mind racing. I couldn’t believe she was in this situation again. 

When I finally pulled up to the station, I rushed inside, scanning the room for her. “I’m here for Eloise Hart,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

The officer looked up, glancing at the paperwork in front of him. “She’s in a holding cell right now. You can go see her, but keep it brief.”

“Thanks.”

As I walked down the corridor to the holding area, I steeled myself for what I might see. 

When I finally reached the holding area, my jaw nearly dropped at the sight before me. There lay Eloise on a cot, eyes closed, as a woman hovered over her, tattooing something onto her skin. The buzz of the tattoo machine filled the room, and I couldn't believe my eyes.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, taken aback by the absurdity of the situation. 

Eloise looked completely relaxed, almost serene, while the woman worked on her. I stepped closer, my disbelief growing. “Eloise!” I called out, shaking my head in confusion.

She opened her eyes and smiled lazily, as if being tattooed while in jail was the most normal thing in the world. “Hey, Elijah. You made it,” she said, her voice light despite the circumstances.

“Made it? You’re in jail getting a tattoo! What the hell is going on?” I replied, my frustration bubbling up again.

The tattoo artist looked up, who I think is a prisoner here too, her brow furrowing slightly. “She’s fine. Just getting some ink to commemorate the night,” she said casually, as if tattooing someone in jail was an everyday occurrence.

“Commemorate what? Getting arrested?” I shot back, my temper flaring. 

Eloise chuckled softly. “It’s not a big deal. I just thought, why not? I needed something to remember this night by.” 

I shook my head, incredulous. “You’re kidding, right? This is insane. You need to get out of here, not get a tattoo!”

Eloise rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression. “Relax. I’ll be out soon. Besides, I can handle myself.”

“Handle yourself? You’re in jail! This isn’t some kind of joke,” I said, my voice rising in exasperation. 

She shrugged, unfazed. “Yeah, but I didn’t back down. And honestly, I kind of enjoyed it.”

“Enjoyed it?” I echoed, feeling a mix of concern and admiration. “You need to stop getting into these situations!

She just smirked and shrugged as if dismissing me. 

I sighed, running a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the night settle on my shoulders. “Let’s just get you out of here first, then we can talk about all of this.” 

Eloise smiled mischievously. “You sure you don’t want to stick around for the final touch?” 

I couldn't help but chuckle despite my frustration. “No thanks. I think I’ve seen enough for one night.” 

The tattoo artist laughed, and I turned my attention back to Eloise. 

“Let’s go. I’ll deal with the paperwork, and then we can talk.”

"Whatever, Billionaire," was all she replied, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

—

After I settled everything with the officer, I stepped outside, scanning the area for Eloise. I found her leaning against the building, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. The night air wrapped around us, but her presence felt like a fire that couldn't be ignored.

As I approached, I couldn't help but notice the way passersby were glancing at her, whispering amongst themselves. Almost her entire upper body was covered in tattoos now, and the ink only added to the rebellious aura she exuded. 

I felt a surge of protectiveness mixed with annoyance. “You know people are talking, right?” I said, trying to keep my tone light. 

She took a drag from her cigarette and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the night. “Let them talk. It’s not like I’m trying to win a popularity contest,” she replied nonchalantly.

I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. “But it doesn’t have to be like this, Eloise. You’re drawing attention for all the wrong reasons.”

“And what’s wrong with that? At least I’m living my life on my own terms. That’s more than I can say for a lot of people.”

I sighed, crossing my arms. “But at what cost? You’re in jail for crying out loud!”

Eloise chuckled, a sound that felt both defiant and carefree. “Stop acting as if it’s my first time in jail.”

I sighed deeply. Yeah, this was her twenty-third time in jail in just half a year.

As I stared at her, I couldn’t help but think about how Eloise had always been this way—carefree, unbothered by the weight of the world that seemed to crush others. She walked through life like it couldn’t touch her, like nothing could get under her skin. It was maddening, really. 

There she was, standing in front of me, acting like being in jail for the twenty-third time was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Her smirk, that nonchalant attitude... It was like she was daring me to care more than she ever would. 

Most people would crumble under the pressure, but not Eloise. She didn’t care about the whispers, the judgment, or the damage she did to her so-called reputation. To her, none of it mattered.

It was part of what made her so frustratingly impossible to ignore.

She lived her life on her terms, and I had to admit, there was something admirable about that, even if it drove me insane. She didn’t let anything or anyone dictate how she should act, and that made her dangerous in a way. 

But it also made her free.

Eloise’s brows furrowed as she looked at me, that teasing glint in her eyes flickering into something sharper. “You’re such a bitch today,” she said, crossing her arms. “Did I interrupt you again in the middle of your orgasm?”

I scoffed, though I felt a twinge of irritation at her words. She knew how to push my buttons, and she was damn good at it. “Yeah, because clearly, my life revolves around dropping everything just to bail you out.”

Her smirk deepened, unbothered as usual. “It’s not my fault you’re so predictable, Elijah. You always come running, like a good little knight in shining armor.”

I shook my head, letting out a frustrated laugh. “Do you ever stop to think that maybe I don’t want to keep saving your ass?”

She raised an eyebrow, as if amused. “No, because you always do.” 

That’s the thing about Eloise—she was fully aware of the power she had over people, especially me. And no matter how much I wanted to deny it, she wasn’t wrong.

Without hesitation, I threw Eloise over my shoulder like she was nothing more than a sack of rice. She let out a surprised yelp, her fists lightly pounding my back.

“Elijah! Put me down, you idiot!” she protested, but there was no real anger in her voice, just the usual annoyance.

As I drove to my penthouse, the city lights blurred by in the distance. Eloise’s protests had died down a while ago, and when I glanced at her, I realized she’d fallen asleep, her face softened in a rare moment of peace. 

When we pulled into the parking lot, I parked the car and gently nudged her shoulder. “Eloise, we’re here,” I said, my voice low. No response. 

I tried again, shaking her a little more. “Come on, wake up.”

But she didn’t stir. Her breathing was slow and steady, her head resting against the window like she hadn’t a care in the world. I sighed, leaning back in my seat, and for a moment, I just stared at her.

I wouldn't mind bailing her out of jail every time if it meant I could see her, be with her. It was insane, and I knew it, but it didn’t stop me from feeling this way. 

Unconsciously, my hand reached out, hovering just inches from her cheek. But I stopped halfway, fingers curling into a fist. 

Elijah, you idiot!

I slammed my head down against the steering wheel, frustration coursing through me.

Uhuh, I'm in love with my sister-in-law and I'm not sorry at all.