Chapter Three- Wild Cat

CHAPTER THREE

Lucas' POV

I reclined in the driver's seat of my sleek black car, the leather upholstery cool against my skin as I watched the chaos unfolding from inside the strip club.

Suddenly, a dark shadow darted out from the alleyway beside the strip club. No, not a shadow. Someone.

Shirley McWood.

My gaze flickered with amusement as I observed the woman's futile attempt to escape, her form stumbling awkwardly in the tight dress she wore. The light from the street lamps caught her bright red hair in a pretty fashion.

Who did she think she was, trying to run away from her debts once again? The audacity of the woman never failed to amuse me.

Inside, I felt not a shred of anger, but rather a mild annoyance at her persistent attempts to defy me. She was like a stubborn fly buzzing around my head, refusing to be swatted away.

I watched as the woman darted across the street in a desperate bid for freedom, and I made a split-second decision. With a subtle smirk playing on my lips, I started the engine of my car and eased it into motion, blending seamlessly with the flow of traffic.

Beneath the brim of my baseball cap, I kept a low profile. This way, I was invisible to her. My eyes locked onto her figure as she scampered across the street like a scared mouse.

I followed at a discreet distance, my car blending effortlessly into the sea of vehicles on the road.

A low, deadly chuckle escaped my lips as I watched her stumble and falter in her haste. She was like a mouse scurrying through a maze, unaware that the walls were closing in around her.

But no matter how far she ran, she could never escape the inevitable. She belonged to me, body and soul, and I would stop at nothing to reclaim what was rightfully mine.

A smirk played across my lips as I watched her stop on the other side of the road, then fumble with her makeup. She grabbed the hem of her dress, and wiped it straight across her face. She was like a child playing with fire, not knowing that it would scald her.

The woman hailed a cab and climbed inside, and I wasted no time in following her discreetly, my car blending seamlessly into the bustling city streets.

"Shirley McWood," I muttered under my breath. "You can run, but you definitely cannot hide from me."

Her house was a modest four-floor apartment, which looked dark and decrepit, but it mattered little to me. What mattered was the fact that I now knew where she lived, and I had her under my thumb.

The woman promptly hopped out of the back seat of the taxi, then handed the driver a wad of cash. She turned and hurried into the apartment building.

I waited for a moment, to make sure she got a headstart. Then, turning off the ignition, I slipped out of my car and locked up.

My footsteps echoed softly as I entered the apartment building, my senses sharp and alert. I watched the woman from a distance as she climbed up a dank-looking staircase, ensuring not to reveal my presence.

I followed her as closely and as silently as I could manage. I watched as she stopped before a door marked "Apartment 17." She took a pause, glanced behind her and opened the door.

As she disappeared behind the door, I waited for a total of five minutes, before following suit. The hallway felt eerily quiet as I approached her door, my hand reaching out to grasp the handle.

With a swift motion, I pushed the door open and stepped inside, my eyes scanning the room for any signs of her.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

The woman's piercing scream shattered the silence, echoing off the walls as she recoiled in shock at the sight of me. She stood before me in the tiny, semi-dark living room, clad in nothing but a white towel, her eyes wide with fear and disbelief.

"Why are you here? Answer me!" She demanded, her voice trembling with anger and confusion. I watched with detached amusement as she clutched her towel to her chest.

My lips curled into a smug smirk as I took a step closer. "I believe the question, rossa, is why wouldn't I be here?" I replied.

The woman's eyes blazed with defiance as she squared her shoulders, the towel slipping slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her bright red, wet hair was stuck to her forehead and her shoulders, and droplets of water fell from her eyelids.

Rossa, I thought. The perfect name for her.

Red-haired.

"Get out immediately!" she spat, her voice laced with venom. Something about the bitterness in her voice made my stomach churn, but I ignored it.

I only chuckled darkly, my gaze unwavering as I surveyed her form. "Oh, I don't think so," I murmured. "You belong to me now, rossa, have you forgotten? And there's nowhere you can hide from me."

I felt her wary eyes on my form as I moved to her couch and settled into it, then folded my legs. "Now," I started. "Why did you leave the strip club?"

She stared at me incredulously for a moment, thsn snorted in derision. "I was not made for that place! I would rather eat sand than...than gyrate for a couple of dick-hard men!"

A smile teased at the corner of my lips as I watched her snap. Damn, she was so beautiful when she was this way. Fiery, untamable. Just the way I loved my women.

"Oh, but that is the only way you can pay me back for your debts, Shirley McWood. And do not forget that your father owes me a substantial amount as well. You have to pay your debts one way, or another."

"I promised to pay, did I not?" She protested. "I asked you to give me a few more weeks—"

"Weeks that I do not have." I interrupted. Standing to my feet again, I moved towards the woman.

She hastily scampered back as I made my way to her, bright green eyes widening with alarm. Her towel slipped down a few inches more, revealing the top of her breasts.

And the sight moved me to rock-hard horniness.

"Come closer," I ordered. As though the defiance had seeped out of her, Shirley McComb inched forward, until there was little more than a hair's breadth between us.

She let out a huff of air, and her breath warmed my face. At this point, I was almost quivering with need. My control was slipping dangerously out of my hands, and I knew I needed to rein it in.

I had to remind mysele several times that I was the boss here. I had to keep my emotions in check, no matter what this red-haired woman sought to extricate from me.

Who was this woman, and why did she make me feel a host of things like I had never felt before?

She swallowed hard and spoke up in a voice made hollow by fear. "I would never have survived in that strip club."

"I have to get my money back somehow." I growled in response, and I saw her eyelids flutter in terror. "Since you have refused to stay at the strip club, we have to find some other use for you."

Shirley McComb let out a tremulous breath, and my control slipped for a split second. I inched forward, as though to press a kiss against her lips. However, at the last minute, I pulled back, crossing the living room to the other side.

"What are you going to do, then?" She asked. Was it me, or did I sense a tinge of regret in her voice?

I turned to her. "You're following me home."

******

The woman didn't even protest at my words.

She silently threw on a short sun dress, revealing certain parts of my body that stirred something hot inside of me. Picking up her phone and slipping on a pair of shoes, she led the way to the door. I couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph at my ability to command her obedience.

Outside, the night air was cool against my skin as we made our way towards my car. The street lamps cast a soft glow over the pavement, illuminating our path as we walked in silence.

When we got to the car, I attempted to open the door for her. The woman gave me a glare that could wilt flowers.

"I can open the door myself!" She snapped.

"Suit yourself," I gestured for her to slide into the passenger seat. She complied without a word, her movements stiff and controlled.

As I settled into the driver's seat, the engine roared to life beneath me. With a flick of my wrist, I steered the car onto the road, leaving Shirley's apartment building behind us.

The silence between us was strong and heavy with unspoken tension and unresolved emotions. I stole a glance at Shirley, noting the way her jaw was clenched tight and her gaze fixed firmly on the passing scenery outside.

In no time, we pulled up to the imposing gates of my mansion. The gates swung open effortlessly, granting us entry into the sprawling estate that had been my domain for as long as I could remember.

Parking the car in front of the mansion, I turned to the woman, who was seated as stiffly as a cardboard cutout.

"What, aren't you going to step out?" I snapped.

To my surprise, she stepped out without a word, her movements graceful yet guarded.

Silently, I led her towards the grand entrance. I couldn't help but notice the look of awe that flickered across her features as she took in my mansion.

It was a sight I had seen countless times on different women before when I brought them to my mansion, yet for some reason, the sight of her admiration stirred something within me.

Opening the door with a flourish, I gestured for the woman to enter, my gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. There was a vulnerability in her expression that intrigued me, a flicker of something real amidst the toughness she wore like armor.

"Whoa!" She whispered, gaze darting from corner to corner.

"Follow me, Rocco." I called out as I walked down the hall. "Your room is this way."