Part 11

The nightclub was just a short walk from my villa, and I could hear the music pumping as I got closer. The closer I got, the more excited I became. I was finally going to have some fun after five long years of misery.

As I entered the club, I was hit by a wave of energy. The lights were flashing, the music was loud, and people were dancing everywhere. I made my way to the bar and ordered a drink.

I stood at the bar, the pulsing beat of the music thumping through my body. It was a welcome distraction from the dull ache in my chest, the one that reminded me of what I had lost. I had put on my best poker face, my hair cascading in loose waves around my shoulders, a deep red lipstick giving me a sense of mystery.

I scanned the crowd, observing people as they danced, laughed, and drank. Everyone was lost in their own world, lost in the euphoria that the nightclub offered. I wondered if they, too, were pretending like I was, hiding their pain and heartbreak behind a mask of smiles and loud music.

"Can I buy you a drink?" A deep voice asked from beside me, interrupting my thoughts.

I turned to face the speaker, my eyes locking onto the striking features of a man who was easily the most handsome in the club. He had piercing green eyes that seemed to bore into my soul, his jawline chiseled to perfection.

"Sure," I said, feigning interest, "I'll have a Cosmo."

He ordered our drinks, and we fell into a comfortable silence, both of us taking in our surroundings. He looked at me, his gaze unwavering, and I tried my best to match his intensity.

"I don't think I've seen you here before," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm just passing through," I replied, keeping my answer vague. I didn't want him to know anything about me, not the broken heart or the tears that I had shed earlier that day.

He seemed to sense my hesitation, but he didn't push the issue. Instead, he turned to face me, his body language open and inviting.

"I'm Adam," he said, holding out his hand.

I took it, feeling the warmth of his skin, and introduced myself. We talked for a while, about everything and nothing, and I found myself enjoying his company. He was easy to talk to, and his wit and humor made me forget my troubles, if only for a moment.

As the night progressed, we danced, laughed, and shared stories. We were lost in each other's company, the noise of the club fading into the background. I was having fun, something I hadn't done in a while.

But, as the night drew to a close, Adam's face turned serious, and he leaned in, his lips close to my ear.

"I don't want this night to end," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin.

I pulled back, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I had been enjoying myself, but I had no intention of taking things further with Adam. I couldn't bear to risk getting hurt again, not after what had happened.

"I'm sorry, Adam," I said, pulling away from him. "I don't think this is a good idea."  He looked at me, disappointment etched on his face, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he nodded. We both  were silent for sometimes but he broke the silence,

"Would like to dance?" he smiled in a friendly way.

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to accept Adam's offer or not. I didn't want to give him any wrong ideas, but then again, it was just a dance. And it had been so long since I'd let loose and enjoyed myself without any worries.

I gave him a smile and nodded, "Sure, let's dance."

We made our way to the dance floor, and Adam took my hand, leading me to the center. As we started dancing, I felt a rush of energy and excitement. The music was slow and sensual, and I let myself be carried away by the rhythm.

Adam was a good dancer, and he knew how to lead. We moved together, our bodies in sync with the beat. We laughed and talked, enjoying the moment, but there was no attraction between us. It was just two old friends having fun.

As the night went on, we danced to more songs, switching between fast and slow beats. The club was crowded, and people were bumping into us, but we didn't care. We were lost in the moment, enjoying each other's company.

I was caught up in the moment, dancing with Adam under the bright disco lights when suddenly, a strong hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me away from him. I turned to see my husband, Shraf, standing there with a stern expression on his face. My heart skipped a beat, and I couldn't help but feel  confused and shocked to see him there. I had no idea he would show up here. His face twisted with anger,  it was unsettling. His handsome features were marred by the possessive look in his eyes, and his grip on my arm was tight and painful.

"Let's go," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

"Let go of me, Shraf," I said, trying to pull away from him, but his grip only tightened.

His eyes scanned me from head to toe, and I could see the anger in them as he took in my disheveled appearance. I knew what he was thinking, and the thought made my stomach churn with anxiety. He was jealous, I could tell. Jealous that I was dancing with another man. But why was he here? And why was he so angry?

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but it trembled slightly.

"You didn't answer your phone," he said through gritted teeth. "I came to look for you."

I realized then that I had left my phone on silent, and he must have been trying to reach me. But why was he so angry? And why did he feel the need to come and get me like this?

"Shraf, let go of me," I repeated, but he wouldn't budge. His gaze flicked back to Adam, who was standing a few feet away, watching us with a look of confusion and concern on his face.

"Don't you ever dance with him again," Shraf growled, and I could feel his anger radiating off of him like a heat wave. "You're my wife, and I won't have you parading around with other men."

I was fuming as my husband, Shraf, pulled me away from the dance floor, his grip on my wrist unrelenting. I couldn't believe his possessive behavior and the way he had barged in on my night out with Adam. I tried to shake him off, but his grip only tightened.

"Shraf, what are you doing? Let me go!" I demanded, my voice rising in anger.

But he didn't budge. Instead, he glared at Adam, who had the good sense to back away. Shraf's handsome face was twisted in anger, and I could see the veins bulging on his neck.

"I won't have my wife dancing with other men," he growled, his jaw clenching with anger. To say, hot red rage was blinding my senses would be an understatement. I did not want to create any scene so, I relented as he pulled me out of the club. We walked out  in silence, the tension between us thick and palpable as he pulled me towards his car and shoved me inside, his face a mask of anger and frustration. I sat there, seething with  wrath, as he started the engine and drove us back to our villa.

The silence in the car was deafening, and I couldn't help but wonder what had gotten into Shraf. He had never been this possessive before, and I didn't know how to deal with it.

"Are you going to explain yourself?" I asked, my voice trembling with unmasked fury.

Shraf didn't answer. He just kept his eyes fixed on the road, his jaw set in a hard line. I could feel the tension in the car, and it was suffocating.

"Shraf," I said firmly, determined to make my point. . "I can't believe you're acting like this. You can't just come in here and ruin it for me when I try to enjoy a fucking night!"

"I don't care," he replied, his voice low and full of anger. "You're still my wife, and I won't let any other man touch what's mine!"

I rolled my eyes, my patience wearing thin. “We are getting a divorce, remember?” I spat, my voice laced with bitterness.

But to my shock, he leaned in closer, his dark features contorted into a sinister smirk. His hot breath tickled my ear, sending chills down my spine. His words were like poison, his tone cold and calculated as he whispered,

"Not until the contract is finalized,"