FRIENDS

And after she had decided to walk out of the relationship, he did not mind . Drake hadn’t come after her. He hadn’t even called her. It seemed to prove how little he cared about her and how their relationship would never lead to marriage.

But then, men like Drake Holt  didn’t have to beg. They commanded and people obeyed.Walking into the available rest room on the floor . Luckily there was a mirror , she finally released her emotions as tears flowed down her eyes. 

This was not the life she wished for as at five years ago , things were not walking well at all. She knew she had to comply with Drake's contract regardless of the content if her father's surgery was successful or not.

She would have loved to throw his agreement and his ten million whatsoever back in his face. She would have loved to tear up the money note by note and stuff the pieces down the front of his shirt. But she loved her father more than she hated Drake. Much more. Which was kind of scary because she needed to vehemently hate him in order to keep herself safe. But could she ever be safe from Drake? She raised her chin a fraction, unwilling to let go of her pride. 

'‘You might think you can cleverly blackmail me back into your life for three months but I will always hate you. Ten million, twenty million—even fifty million—won’t ever change that.’'

Now she was beginning to talk to herself like a crazy woman. she felt dangerously close to tears, which annoyed her because she wasn’t a crier. She was a fighter not a crier. She gave as good as she got and never showed her vulnerability. She didn’t like showing her neediness. She fought against her emotional weakness. She’d taught herself from a young age when her mother died in  her outstretched arms as if she couldn’t bear to be touched, let alone hugged, by her own child.

Sarah turned her head to stare blindly out of the window, vaguely registering people coming and going from the hospital. People going through the various cycles of life: birth, death, illness and recovery, sadness and happiness and hope and loss and everything in between.

Sarah wasn’t ready to forgive him. Her hurt was festering, pulsating and throbbing like a reopened wound. Old hurts and new hurts were twisting around each other like rough ropes tied too tightly against wounded flesh.She wiped her tears quickly before she walked out.

Sarah turned and stabbed at the lift button but when she looked up at the numbers she could see it was still on the fourth floor. She went to the next lift and, just as she pressed the button, the doors opened and she came face to face with Drake.Just then her eyes caught the reporters.

He took her hand and looped her arm through his. His expression was hard to read but the tensile strength in his grip was not. She would have to think twice before trying to outwit him. '‘Our first paparazzi follow up is about to begin,’ he said. ‘'Nice that you could join me for it.’'He said as he spoke to someone on his phone

Sarah had no choice but to paint a plastic smile on her face as he swung her to face the press. The back and forth conversation was mostly in Italian so she could only pick up a few words here and there, but it was clear the press were delighted to hear the runaway wife of high profile billionaire furniture designer Drake Holt  was back.

" Did you know about this ?"

" No I swear.We can walk away quietly, there is just few of them here ."

" okay ."

"the surgery was successful, the doctor wants him to rest. I need to get some things in the office and get back." 

Drake led her to where he’d parked his car and silently handed her into it. Sarah knew he was angry but she didn't know why. She could feel it simmering in the air like humidity before a storm. He got in behind the driver’s wheel and gave her a look that would have blistered paint. ‘You might have signed the agreement yet, and told your father you’re back with me and...."

" I will comply with it." She blurted out .

" I will go to Hawaii and thank you for standing by me ."

With that said she felt so relieved for some reason ,now she could at least not have to worry about her dad anymore " drop me somewhere her , I need to get some things in the bodega." She said after a long while of driving .

" Okay " he whispered

As it was lunchtime she really wanted to go for a walk, clear her head, get away from the oppressive atmosphere that imbued her. In her undertaking she had not expected her memories to become so pervading, encroaching on her day, reminding her of her purpose but upsetting her at the same time. Envy bit at her as she watched the carefree people she passed, imagining their happy lives, as tears formed in her eyes.

She took a longer than usual lunch, kept walking, tried to clear the things from her mind, seeking distraction and then she remembered...

Her friend Eniola Johnson happened to manage a bodega not too far from where she was and talking to her was what she needed at that moment

" Thank goodness you are here." Sarah said happily as she ran to hug her friend joyfully

She needed that hug ,these past few days have been some sort of luggage she needed to offload and now she felt more better.

" I miss you too, if that's how you say it " Eniola Johnson smiled happily

" Enny , my dad is finally leaving the hospital, andddddd I have a job now ." Sarah knew how excited Enny would be and so she wasn't surprised when Enny threw her up in the air like she weigh nothing. They have been friends since five years now and it seems like it been twenty years for them even despite their difference in races .

" I will fall ." Sarah said admist laughter

“ I am very proud of you, I will just pick my bag now and let go to a club to celebrate this .”

she said dropping Sarah

“ ohh no I will rather go home”

“ you know I won’t take no for .......”

“Okay fine , I need to let my neighbor know I won’t be home early.” Sarah smiled as Enny raced off to pick her back briefly her workers in a hurry .

************

Even though the bar was thumping with loud music and the crowd was shoulder to shoulder, no one approached Drake Holt.He stood alone, an island of calm in a roiling sea of bodies. It might have been the “fuck off” expression on his face, or the crisp cut of his expensive tailored clothing that told people he didn’t belong in this neighborhood. It could have been because he walked with an arrogant swagger that made men get out of the way and women nudge their girlfriends with interest.

None of that mattered. He wasn’t here to socialize.

He moved past the bar, down a narrow hall to a back room. A man—tall, head shaven—stood in front of the door there. The guard wore sunglasses despite being indoors, a suit, and an earpiece with a black cord that wound behind his ear and around the back of his neck. His posture becoming alert, the bodyguard watched Drake as he approached.

With a practiced ease, Drake swept the second and third fingers of his right hand over his shoulder and then rested them on his biceps in the exact spot where his tattoo lay under his clothing.

The man nodded and stepped aside.

Drake pushed the door open and strode down the stairs into the basement. Already there was a thick haze of cigar smoke above the large green octagon table set up in the center of the room. A buffet had been set up off to one side and was being ignored. Beer bottles and poker chips littered the table. Ah, Brotherhood night. His favorite night of the week. Drake gave the room a quick once-over. Everyone was here already; he was the last one to arrive. No surprise there.

The men seated at the table were roughly the same age. All were clean-cut, fit and wore clothes that spoke of money. They all carried themselves with the confidence that success brought, though in some, the confidence was more swagger than anything.

Beside the empty chair held for him sat Brown Brooke the scarred, silent real-estate tycoon, and Drake most trusted friend. Next to him sat Reese Durham, a young, brash man on the cusp of hitting his billion-dollar fortune. Beside him sat Griffin Verdi, English aristocracy and the ‘professor’ of their small group. Then was Jonathan Lyons, owner of Lyon Automotives and notorious adventurer and thrill seeker. At his side was Cade Archer, the philanthropist of their group.

The five men barely glanced up from their cards as he entered.

“You’re late,” Reese Durham told him, a cigar hanging from his mouth. He examined his cards, face impassive.

Drake slipped his jacket off and tossed it into a corner, then moved to the only empty seat at the table. Cade raised a hand in greeting. Drake grasped it and then turned to clap Hunter Buchanan on the back. The man’s scars looked hideous in the dim light of the room.

“About time you got here,” Cade said in a pleasant voice. “Reese was just asking about Angel .”

Drake frowned, shaking his head as he sat down between the two men. “Angel who?”

Reese grinned at him across the table. “You know. Stacked Angel with the big blond hair. I guess you’re not seeing her anymore? You brought her to the Stewart fund-raiser a few months ago.”

Had he? Drake couldn’t recall. He hadn’t had a second date with anyone since . . . well, since Lilian .Hadn’t been interested enough and hadn’t made the time. “I don’t recall a Angel ”

“So you wouldn’t care if I dated her? I met her at a party the other night and wouldn’t mind seeing her again.”

“Care?” Drake snorted. “I can’t even recall her face. She’s all yours.”

“Did you know she’s a friend of Lilians?” Reese asked.

“Then you’re more than welcome to her,” Drake said, his voice cool. “If she’s a friend of Lilian’s, she can burn in hell for all I care.”

“Thought you’d say that,” Reese said cheerfully.

“Just do me a favor and don’t bring up Danica again,” Drake said , with his tone friendly but with a touch of warning.

The last thing he wanted to do was discuss a money-grubbing gold digger Angel. She was in his past, and he had no intention of dwelling on her.She has behaved like every other woman trying to make him father someelse child before he met her friend Lilian Red .

And that grated more than anything.

“So what took you so long?” Brown pulled out a stack of chips, glancing over at Drake.

A smooth, effortless change of subject. Drake turned to Drake and gave the scarred man a check for his share that evening. Brown added it to the bank and shoved the pile of chips in his direction.

“I am getting married ” Drake said. “His tone implied that it was natural but his friends look was more than artificial

“ married?” They all screamed at once