Chapter 7

I pressed myself harder against the wall, trying to create a little distance between us. But he only pressed his hard body against mine, as if he could almost crush my slender frame with just a snap of his fingers.

He never did this to me before. Usually, after he's done using me, he'd quickly back away, looking disgusted with me.

Hearing the noise from the partying crowd in the bar contrasted sharply with this narrow, dark, and deserted corridor. I couldn't scream or shout for help. No one would hear me.

I tilted my head away as he leaned in closer. I feared he might try to kiss me. He never kissed me before, it was always just plain sex to save his own skin.

I felt his large hands on my elbows, pressing them against the wall. "Calista, do you know exactly what you're doing?" His calm voice masked the anger beneath. He wasn't holding back, he was angry in a composed way. "Where's my son?" He squeezed my elbows, not too hard, as he whispered over my ears.

I felt his breath, warm yet fresh, on my skin. Goosebumps rose on my neck where his breath touched, and some hairs stood on end due to the sudden rush of excitement.

Damn. I shouldn't be feeling like this.

Ignoring the hair-raising sensation, I groaned in displeasure.

"Move away from me—"

"Have you ever thought about what you're wearing? It's natural for me to approach you when you're dressed like this, and besides, we're in a bar, not a church." His voice was different from the harsh one he used on me before. I could sense his irritation, but his deep voice remained calm.

Where was the Lazarus who used to glare at me and roughly grip my hair?

"What are you talking about?" Despite my anger, I sounded like a fool, speaking with my head turned away, avoiding his gaze. "That I got your attention too?" I tried to move and adjust my uncomfortable position in front of him, but he beat me to it, releasing my elbows and taking a step back.

"You already have my attention since you have my son," even in this bar, we were still talking business. He sounded professional, formal, and strict, his eyes full of seriousness.

Even in this darkness, I tried to see his face. I straightened where I stood. "Excuse me? Your son? He's mine, Lazarus. He's mine," I proclaimed.

This wasn't the first time we'd used each other's first names. I knew him in high school, as the second Zarus.

"I want to live with my child, Calista."

I acted surprised at his statement, but it came out sarcastic. "You're not even his father," I tilted my chin up to meet his humorless gaze. "Even if he were, I'd never agree to your demands! Can't you leave? Isn't that what you always do? You only come near me when you need something, then you leave once you get what you want. But when I needed you, did you stay?"

"Can't you understand that we were young back then?" I really thought he might back down and apologize for what he did, based on his initial words. He was relentlessly towering over me, radiating superiority. "And I don't regret what I did."

I really wanted to slam him against the wall.

"You're incredibly shameless."

"I want to talk to you privately about custody—"

"No! I won't give my son to you!" I couldn't believe my reaction. When he mentioned custody, I couldn't even finish my sentence. "Don't you dare come near my son, Lazarus. Just stop this nonsense. Why do you want my son so badly?" I asked, unafraid of the consequences.

"Don't test my patience, Calista. Call your friend."

I reluctantly accepted his expensive phone, not that the brand mattered. I couldn't help feeling uncomfortable with the way he looked at me as I turned on his phone.

I raised an eyebrow when I saw there was no password or pin, but I didn't really care. I proceeded to the phone icon.

I typed Irithel's number.

I tapped the loudspeaker so that Lazarus could hear my friend on the other line despite the noise outside the dark corridor. I raised the phone to my ear to hear my friend clearly once she answered.

After three rings, Irithel picked up.

"Hello? Who's this?" I could hear the confusion in her voice. Probably because she didn't recognize the unknown number.

"It's me, Rith."

"Cal! I thought it was someone else! I read your text—"

"T-Tita, is that Momma? Where is, Mom—ma?"

I felt a pang when I heard my son's voice in the background, sounding like he'd just stopped crying. I could hear his little sobs.

"Yes, baby boy. Just wait, okay? Sit for a while. Mommy will talk to you. Don't cry, baby boy," Irithel comforted him gently.

I looked up at Lazarus, avoiding his gaze when I saw how serious and composed he remained.

"Irithel—"

"I'm about to cry here, Cal! I don't know how to comfort your son! What do I do? Why is it so noisy over there? Are you in a bar?"

"I'll explain everything next time. For now..." I swallowed hard because of how difficult Lazarus's request was for me. "Watch over Luzon and don't let anyone take him. I won't let you get near my son, Lazarus. Just stop this nonsense. Why do you want my son so bad?" I asked, unafraid of what the consequences might be.

"Don't try my patience, Calista. Call your friend."

I accepted his expensive phone. I couldn't help but notice the brand. I couldn't help but feel uneasy about the way he looked at me as I turned on his phone.

A little light from the phone illuminated my face.

I raised an eyebrow when I saw there was no password or pin, but I didn't really care. I proceeded to the phone icon.

I typed Irithel's number.

I tapped the loudspeaker so that Lazarus could hear my friend on the other line despite the noise outside the dark corridor. I raised the phone to my ear to hear my friend clearly once she answered.

After three rings, Irithel picked up.

"Hello? Who's this?" I could hear the confusion in her voice. Probably because she didn't recognize the unknown number.

"It's me, Rith."

"Cal! I thought it was someone else! I read your text—"

"Aunt, is that Momma? Where is, Mom—ma?"

I felt a pang when I heard my son's voice in the background, sounding like he'd just stopped crying. I could hear his little sobs.

"Yes, baby boy. Just wait, okay? Sit for a while. Mommy will talk to you. Don't cry, baby boy," Irithel comforted him gently.

I looked up at Lazarus, avoiding his gaze when I saw how serious and composed he remained.

"Irithel—"

"I'm about to cry here, Cal! I don't know how to control your child! What should I do? Why is it so noisy there? Are you at the bar?"

"I'll explain everything next time, for now..." I swallowed hard because it was so difficult to say what Lazarus wanted me to do. "Watch over Luzon and don't let anyone take him." I ended the call and returned his phone to Lazarus.

He remained dead silent and didn't accept his phone.

I cursed when he grabbed my arm and dragged me out into that corridor. He took such large steps that I struggled to walk, and his way of pulling me made it even harder.

Once we were out in the dim part of the bar, the music grew louder, and the people on the dance floor became even wilder.

I can't imagine myself grinding my body against a stranger like the girls or women in this club do on the dance floor.

"What the heck! You should be grateful you're a customer here!"

No one noticed us as we passed through the crowded side. There were a few couples on the side kissing or holding onto each other, hips or legs being touched. There were also some women sitting on the laps of men on the sofa.

That's usually what Lazarus and I encounter here in this corner of the expensive bar slash club, whatever it is.

Most of them followed us with their judgmental and curious stares.

Isn't Lazarus bothered? Because I've been uncomfortable, annoyed, irritated, cursed at, since earlier. I feel like I'll go crazy if I don't leave this place.

While Lazarus was dragging me, I tried to remove his large hand from gripping my arm, but unfortunately, what chance does a woman have when the man is using force?

Lazarus opened a door, and my eyes widened when I realized it was the staff's room door.

He closed the door after we both entered, but he still kept his grip on my arm.

The noise outside wasn't as loud inside the staff's room.

"Hey hottie, what do you need? Is there a problem?" Ruru's flirtatious voice greeted, pretending to sit on his chair with both feet propped up on his desk. He was with Mike, who was busy typing on his phone, sitting on the sofa where they had seated me earlier.

"I want you to fire this woman," his baritone voice was again, calm but dangerous.

"But sexy, your brother said we can't—"

"I don't care, just fire her," even though he didn't curse, his words were still painfully sharp.

It's not like before when he would hurl every curse word at me just to get me away from him.

I was confused by what Mike or Mikaela said. So, Lazarus's older sibling owns this club? It can't be Laki because he calls Lazarus his older brother, meaning there's an even older brother.

Why are they all boys? I feel sorry for their mother.

All I know is that there are three Cavanaugh siblings. I only met Lazarus and Laki. Laki introduced himself to me when Zon was just three years old.

What did I do to this guy? He's so unfair, if anyone should be putting up with anything, it should be him.

I don't want to get fired, so I kept quiet.

"Okay, handsome. I'll just talk to your brother about your concerns," Ruru gave in, but his eyes still lingered on Lazarus's body. His sex appeal was a big distraction for the gay man. "Are you going to take her? What did she do to you?" it's like I'm not even here in the room.

I thought he wouldn't agree. Why did he get so enchanted by Lazarus's face? It's just his sex appeal like who would resist him?

I would.

"Where's her things?" how calmly rude. He didn't even acknowledge Ruru's question and scanned the entire room.

I winced because of how tight he was gripping my arm.

"Get in there, hunk baby, you can see a mini lockers for the staffs," Mike even made a little high and low intonation in his voice.

They were the ones who arranged my things earlier because they immediately pushed me out.

Lazarus entered while still dragging me, leaving the two gays with their mouths agape.

"We go through the drunken state of the club. It's noisy, smoky, and the colorful, flashing lights are harsh on the eyes all around. I bump into some people because Lazarus keeps pulling me, and even though he bumps into others too, he doesn't pay them any mind.

I really have no idea what to do with him once we get out of this club.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, bitch!" angrily shouts a girl who, I think, has a mixed heritage. She's wearing an extremely short, shining black outfit.