Chapter 005

Derek’s pov

I was strongly against employing a dismissed military officer as an assistant, and I was right to be.

My contacts at the military base described him as 'annoyingly resourceful'. A warning, and I ignored it. Now I'm paying for it.

Why did I let Charlton, my best friend and business partner talk me into this? I swear, I'm going to kill him.

If looks could kill, the board's representative would've been dead ten minutes into this meeting. Hell, in my mind, I've already buried him.

How could he stand there, smug as ever, presenting a report of incompetence to me? My airline is the reason every one of those idiots had dinner with the president last week. And yet, here we are.

Ungrateful bastards.

"The board's considering a vote of no confidence, but they're willing to give you one last chance. If not, the investors for the expansion will pull out". 

I roll my eyes, my mouth itch to tell him to fuck off but if I open my mouth, this would be worse than it is already.

Why the hell won't the board hear me out? Why the sudden turn against my airline? And now they want out of the expansion deal?

This meeting was supposed to find an alternative to their ridiculous proposal, but two hours in, nothing had changed. No matter how much Charlton tried to be nice, explaining every detail, it all fell on deaf, old ears.

I roll my eyes. My military background prepared me for chaos and made me a solid businessman, but nothing could have prepared me for images from a strip club threatening my company's expansion and its very existence.

Those images are everywhere. Investors are demanding answers, threatening to pull out of a deal that's already in motion. 

What's worse than losing your company? An assistant who's annoyingly resourceful. His attempt to 'save' me has made a bad situation worse.

I'm getting married–– an ultimatum from the board or I lose my key investors. I didn't even know I was getting married until this morning. Why? My assistant in his resourcefulness fabricated a cover story to explain the pictures: My bachelor's party.

Something happened. At the strip club, a stripper slipped, I caught her, and in that instant, the camera flashed.

I couldn't say anything without making the situation worse, so I showed my anger by standing up and cutting loudmouth off mid-sentence. The force of it startled him.

Good. He's scared of me.

I didn't spare anyone a glance as I walked out, not even Charlton. Fuck all of them.

Charlton follows me right away, ever the peacemaker. "You need to calm down. These are our biggest investors, and they're funding this project. We need them".

I breathe deeply, releasing hot air through my nose. He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong.

“Well Charlton, not all of us can suck up to them expertly like you do”.

Charlton opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He just shakes his head. "You're impossible".

True. I know. And Charlton makes sure to remind me every time.

"Listen, what's the worst that can happen? Get married. You're old enough and more than ready".

"I'm not ready, and no rich old fool can make me", I grind out through clenched teeth.

"Fine. We'll work something out. Actually, I'll work something out. Stay here".

I know. Charlton's the calm one between us. If anyone can fix this, it's him. I trust him, but I don't say it.

I get a call from the president's office congratulating me on my 'wedding'. Apparently, bad news travel fast. Very fast. They even have a date. I thought, this is my 'wedding'? It makes no sense but I feign happiness. It's not every day you get a call from the president.

It would've been easier to look for new investors–- Simon's Airlines is a big deal after all. But I can't afford to pause the ongoing project. Months of negotiations and planning aren't a luxury I can afford.

I was about to end the call when a pair of firm, yet delicate hands yanked me down for a kiss.

I have to admit, nothing in all my years of training–- military, school or business– prepared me for understanding women. They're a whole different experience. That's why I've always avoided deep ties. I'd rather navigate a minefield.

I’m no saint, I’ve had my fair share of casual hookups and baddie linkups. It was easier because there were no expectations or commitments––except for a few who dared to dream. It's always been a way to let off steam or distract myself from the pressure of work. It took a lot to get me aroused in those situations. A mere kiss had never done that.

But this strange woman unmanned me. My erection was instant, her touch shot directly to my dick. I lost control in seconds. Instead of pushing her away, I deepened the kiss, craving more. When that idiot threw his keys at her, I snapped.

"Are you insane?" I didn't want to stop tasting her breath.

She looked at me through insanely thick lenses, and shock coursed through me as I stared at the beautiful woman before me.

This conversation made me sick. How dare they?

I watched in anger as she struggled to maintain her composure. Her voice stayed steady, but her eyes betrayed her–-tears welled up, and fear flashed across them.

I wanted her lips on mine again, to swallow her tears and her fear. 

My brain is filled with thoughts of sinking slowly into her wetness. I freeze, recognising the mark on her neck. My knees feel weak. 

Even in death, I’d recognise that scar. It tormented me for years. Layla?

My brain struggled to believe she was standing in front of me, how?

​​"Layla, marry me", the words are out before I can stop them, before she can hurt me again.

My pulse quickens, and my chest tightens with a mix of fear and desperation. Every second that ticks by feels like an eternity. I wait, my breath shallow, my mind spinning with the possibilities. What if she says no?

I can't let that happen. I won't let her slip away again. I'll move mountains to be with her. Whatever it takes. I'll use every connection I have, every resource at my disposal. If I have to, I'll blackmail her, force her to see things my way. I'll buy him out of the marriage, or make him disappear completely. I'll do anything to make her mine.

Anything.

​​Charlton walks in at the exact wrong moment, like he always does—always the party spoiler, always in time to ruin everything. His eyes dart to Layla first, then to me, and I catch the flash of anger in his gaze, sharp and sudden, followed by disbelief, as if he can’t quite process what’s happening.

"Aneeka Grant. What a pleasant surprise. How long has it been?", he says.

Charlton's voice is low and steady, too controlled, like he's working overtime to keep himself composed. I can see the strain in his jaw, the barely restrained anger beneath the fake smile. He's trying so hard to be a gentleman, but the rage is there, barely contained, ready to explode.

I step forward, my tone sharp and deliberate.

"Layla and I are getting married."

I say it with finality, hoping to snap him out of his mood, to shake him from whatever dangerous impulse is building behind his eyes. His gaze darkens, and I notice the tightening of his fists at his sides. Anger radiates off him like heat.

I can’t let him do anything stupid—not here, not now. Layla’s been through enough. Her past is filled with things she can’t undo, and I refuse to let him add to that.