Hey everyone, First off, I want to apologize for not being able to post an update yesterday. I was deeply immersed in my research for my PhD, which turned out to be more draining than I anticipated. By the time I wrapped everything up, I was completely exhausted and ended up falling asleep before I could even think about writing. To make it up to you, I worked extra hard and updated three chapters today to compensate for what I missed yesterday! I hope you enjoy the new content and that it was worth the wait. Thank you for your patience and understanding—it means the world to me! Let me know your thoughts on the updates I just posted; I always love hearing from you. 💕
*Arlene's POV*“Where are you going?” Mago’s voice broke the silence as he saw me standing on the sidewalk, waiting for a taxi.“I’m meeting Janine and Patricia at Blue Plate,” I replied, glancing at him before adding with a casual shrug, “You can go ahead. I’ll follow you to the bar.”Mago frowned, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he responded, “Get in the car. I’ll take you to Blue Plate.”His tone was firm, but there was something different—an unease, like he didn’t quite like the idea of me going somewhere alone.I raised an eyebrow, “You’re acting like I can’t go on my own. It’s just some girl talk, Mago. Janine and Patricia probably wouldn’t appreciate having you around for that anyway.”“Who said I was coming with you?” Mago’s eyes sparkled with a playful glint, though his tone was defensive. “I need to see Stuart at his office. Since it’s on the same street, I thought I’d drop you off first.”A slight blush crept up my neck, realizing I had misread the situation. W
*Mago’s POV*Dessa met us at the entrance of the bar, her expression more tense than usual. “Boss Mago, I heard there’s a new bar opening nearby,” she said, her voice laced with concern. “It could be trouble for us. If it’s anything like the rumors, they’ll be taking our regulars.”Arlene frowned, glancing over at me. “When’s the opening?”“This Saturday,” Dessa replied, shaking her head. “I’m worried that the competition will pull people away from our place. It’s a risk—if we don’t do something, we might lose our crowd.”I felt the weight of her words, and Arlene’s expression mirrored the same tension. This wasn’t just a friendly opening—it was a direct challenge.“In that case, we need to make this weekend count,” I said, my voice steady but sharp with intent. “We’ll need to create an event that not only keeps our regulars coming back but also draws new faces to our bar.”Dessa looked at me, her gaze still uneasy but trusting. “What do you have in mind?”“We’ll need to make our drink
*Arlene's POV*It was only 11 PM, but the bar was already a chaotic mess. The students, high on the thrill of a long weekend and the relief of finishing their exams, were letting loose, their laughter and cheers mixing with the pulsing bass of the music. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and the sharp tang of spilled beer.Quinn darted from one table to another, his tray barely staying balanced as he delivered drink orders. Dessa hustled behind the bar, her brow furrowed as she juggled glass after glass. But me? I was standing near the entrance, trying to ignore the sharp pang of frustration gnawing at me.Mago—my husband, though it felt more like he was a stranger—was surrounded by a small group of women, laughing too loudly, tossing their hair, and touching his arm like they were already in some private world. He didn’t notice me watching. He never did.I clenched my jaw, watching him flirt effortlessly while I held everything together. ‘It’s just a job. Just a job
I started moving to the rhythm, letting the beat take me. I moved in sync with the drunk man, encouraging him, letting him believe I was into it. He spun around, laughing, and his hands reached for mine. At first, it felt like a harmless game. I was in control. Or so I thought.The crowd cheered, egging us on, and I felt my confidence rising. But then, the man’s grip tightened. His hands started moving in places I hadn’t invited him to, his touch no longer playful, but aggressive. His body pressed too close to mine, and for a moment, I felt trapped.Panic creeped up my spine. I glanced at Mago again, hoping—no, needing—him to step in. But he was still caught up in his own world, his attention divided between the women and his drink.The customer’s hands were all over me now, his breath hot on my neck as he leaned in closer, too close. I jerked away, but he only followed, grinning like he’d just won some sort of prize. I could feel the heat of his body pressing in, his hands now danger
*Mago’s POV*I didn’t expect her to get up on that stage.Arlene—the woman I told myself I no longer cared about, the woman I convinced myself was nothing more than a tool for revenge—was up there, singing her heart out. She wasn’t the same sweet, innocent girl I’d known before. No, this version of Arlene was bold, confident, and utterly captivating.And I hated it.I hated the way the spotlight caught her, the way her voice softened the crowd, the way her movements seemed so effortless. But most of all, I hated that I noticed it.When the drunk fool climbed onto the stage and started dancing with her, my chest tightened with something I refused to name. I wanted to rip him off that stage, throw him out of my bar, and make it clear to everyone who she really belonged to. But I didn’t.Why would I?She clearly liked the attention. She smiled, played along—flirting effortlessly, like she was just another woman who wante
*Arlene’s POV*Mago sat behind his desk, massaging his temple as he read through the financial report I handed him. The tightness in his jaw told me all I needed to know before he even spoke. The numbers were bad, worse than I expected. The newly opened bar across town had stolen not only our regulars but also our spotlight.“Our regulars are barely showing up,” I said, trying to gauge his mood. “And when they do, it’s just for a quick drink before hopping over to the new place.”Mago leaned back, letting out a frustrated sigh. “We need something more interesting than just serving drinks,” he muttered, his voice carrying the weight of his thoughts.“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I said, trying to keep my tone professional despite the nerves twisting in my stomach. I had been preparing for this moment, waiting for him to ask for my input. “And it’s not jus
Mago’s POVFor three days, I went to work and came home alone. Arlene had been busy redesigning the house, pouring her heart and soul into it. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought. She was so into it, and honestly, I didn’t mind. It was our house. She was my wife. And I loved the idea of her leaving her touch everywhere—it made the house feel alive, like a home.But tonight was different. It was past midnight when I got home, and the house was dark and eerily quiet. I didn’t bother turning on the lights in the living room as I made my way upstairs. Passing by Arlene’s room, I paused for a second. The door was closed, but I could feel her presence behind it. I’d been fighting the urge to touch her for nights now, and the battle was getting harder. I knew I still loved her. But that love wasn’t strong enough to erase the pain her father had caused me.Shaking my head, I pushed o
*Mago’s POV*The bar was packed, the air electric with anticipation as the first-ever gender battle began. The crowd buzzed with excitement, their cheers and whistles echoing against the walls. Arlene and I stood on opposite sides of the stage, both ready, both determined. I could see the fire in her eyes—a challenge, a promise that she wasn’t going down without a fight.I signaled to Dessa to start the music. As the first beats of the energetic track boomed through the speakers, I began my flairing routine. Bottles twirled and spun in my hands, catching the lights in dazzling flashes. The crowd roared with approval, egging me on as I tossed the shaker high into the air, caught it behind my back, and poured a perfect shot. I finished my first round with a dramatic slam of the shaker onto the bar, my signature smirk firmly in place.Then it was Arlene’s turn.She stepped forward with a coy smile, her moves smooth, c
*Mago’s POV*The bar was packed, the air electric with anticipation as the first-ever gender battle began. The crowd buzzed with excitement, their cheers and whistles echoing against the walls. Arlene and I stood on opposite sides of the stage, both ready, both determined. I could see the fire in her eyes—a challenge, a promise that she wasn’t going down without a fight.I signaled to Dessa to start the music. As the first beats of the energetic track boomed through the speakers, I began my flairing routine. Bottles twirled and spun in my hands, catching the lights in dazzling flashes. The crowd roared with approval, egging me on as I tossed the shaker high into the air, caught it behind my back, and poured a perfect shot. I finished my first round with a dramatic slam of the shaker onto the bar, my signature smirk firmly in place.Then it was Arlene’s turn.She stepped forward with a coy smile, her moves smooth, c
Mago’s POVFor three days, I went to work and came home alone. Arlene had been busy redesigning the house, pouring her heart and soul into it. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought. She was so into it, and honestly, I didn’t mind. It was our house. She was my wife. And I loved the idea of her leaving her touch everywhere—it made the house feel alive, like a home.But tonight was different. It was past midnight when I got home, and the house was dark and eerily quiet. I didn’t bother turning on the lights in the living room as I made my way upstairs. Passing by Arlene’s room, I paused for a second. The door was closed, but I could feel her presence behind it. I’d been fighting the urge to touch her for nights now, and the battle was getting harder. I knew I still loved her. But that love wasn’t strong enough to erase the pain her father had caused me.Shaking my head, I pushed o
*Arlene’s POV*Mago sat behind his desk, massaging his temple as he read through the financial report I handed him. The tightness in his jaw told me all I needed to know before he even spoke. The numbers were bad, worse than I expected. The newly opened bar across town had stolen not only our regulars but also our spotlight.“Our regulars are barely showing up,” I said, trying to gauge his mood. “And when they do, it’s just for a quick drink before hopping over to the new place.”Mago leaned back, letting out a frustrated sigh. “We need something more interesting than just serving drinks,” he muttered, his voice carrying the weight of his thoughts.“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I said, trying to keep my tone professional despite the nerves twisting in my stomach. I had been preparing for this moment, waiting for him to ask for my input. “And it’s not jus
*Mago’s POV*I didn’t expect her to get up on that stage.Arlene—the woman I told myself I no longer cared about, the woman I convinced myself was nothing more than a tool for revenge—was up there, singing her heart out. She wasn’t the same sweet, innocent girl I’d known before. No, this version of Arlene was bold, confident, and utterly captivating.And I hated it.I hated the way the spotlight caught her, the way her voice softened the crowd, the way her movements seemed so effortless. But most of all, I hated that I noticed it.When the drunk fool climbed onto the stage and started dancing with her, my chest tightened with something I refused to name. I wanted to rip him off that stage, throw him out of my bar, and make it clear to everyone who she really belonged to. But I didn’t.Why would I?She clearly liked the attention. She smiled, played along—flirting effortlessly, like she was just another woman who wante
I started moving to the rhythm, letting the beat take me. I moved in sync with the drunk man, encouraging him, letting him believe I was into it. He spun around, laughing, and his hands reached for mine. At first, it felt like a harmless game. I was in control. Or so I thought.The crowd cheered, egging us on, and I felt my confidence rising. But then, the man’s grip tightened. His hands started moving in places I hadn’t invited him to, his touch no longer playful, but aggressive. His body pressed too close to mine, and for a moment, I felt trapped.Panic creeped up my spine. I glanced at Mago again, hoping—no, needing—him to step in. But he was still caught up in his own world, his attention divided between the women and his drink.The customer’s hands were all over me now, his breath hot on my neck as he leaned in closer, too close. I jerked away, but he only followed, grinning like he’d just won some sort of prize. I could feel the heat of his body pressing in, his hands now danger
*Arlene's POV*It was only 11 PM, but the bar was already a chaotic mess. The students, high on the thrill of a long weekend and the relief of finishing their exams, were letting loose, their laughter and cheers mixing with the pulsing bass of the music. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and the sharp tang of spilled beer.Quinn darted from one table to another, his tray barely staying balanced as he delivered drink orders. Dessa hustled behind the bar, her brow furrowed as she juggled glass after glass. But me? I was standing near the entrance, trying to ignore the sharp pang of frustration gnawing at me.Mago—my husband, though it felt more like he was a stranger—was surrounded by a small group of women, laughing too loudly, tossing their hair, and touching his arm like they were already in some private world. He didn’t notice me watching. He never did.I clenched my jaw, watching him flirt effortlessly while I held everything together. ‘It’s just a job. Just a job
*Mago’s POV*Dessa met us at the entrance of the bar, her expression more tense than usual. “Boss Mago, I heard there’s a new bar opening nearby,” she said, her voice laced with concern. “It could be trouble for us. If it’s anything like the rumors, they’ll be taking our regulars.”Arlene frowned, glancing over at me. “When’s the opening?”“This Saturday,” Dessa replied, shaking her head. “I’m worried that the competition will pull people away from our place. It’s a risk—if we don’t do something, we might lose our crowd.”I felt the weight of her words, and Arlene’s expression mirrored the same tension. This wasn’t just a friendly opening—it was a direct challenge.“In that case, we need to make this weekend count,” I said, my voice steady but sharp with intent. “We’ll need to create an event that not only keeps our regulars coming back but also draws new faces to our bar.”Dessa looked at me, her gaze still uneasy but trusting. “What do you have in mind?”“We’ll need to make our drink
*Arlene's POV*“Where are you going?” Mago’s voice broke the silence as he saw me standing on the sidewalk, waiting for a taxi.“I’m meeting Janine and Patricia at Blue Plate,” I replied, glancing at him before adding with a casual shrug, “You can go ahead. I’ll follow you to the bar.”Mago frowned, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he responded, “Get in the car. I’ll take you to Blue Plate.”His tone was firm, but there was something different—an unease, like he didn’t quite like the idea of me going somewhere alone.I raised an eyebrow, “You’re acting like I can’t go on my own. It’s just some girl talk, Mago. Janine and Patricia probably wouldn’t appreciate having you around for that anyway.”“Who said I was coming with you?” Mago’s eyes sparkled with a playful glint, though his tone was defensive. “I need to see Stuart at his office. Since it’s on the same street, I thought I’d drop you off first.”A slight blush crept up my neck, realizing I had misread the situation. W
*Mago’s POV*I’ve been trying—really trying—to keep myself together. But Arlene? She makes it damn near impossible. She moves through life with this unintentional grace, doing the most mundane things in a way that somehow feels provocative. It’s maddening. It’s infuriating. And it’s everything I try not to think about.Take this moment, for instance. She stood by the table, running her fingers lightly along its edge. A simple action, completely innocent—at least in her mind. But in my eyes, it was something else entirely. Her fingers moved with a lazy, unhurried rhythm, tracing the grain of the wood as if she were memorizing its texture. The way her nails lightly grazed the surface made my imagination spiral into places it shouldn’t go.And then there was her face. Her head tilted slightly, lips softly parted as she inspected the table, utterly unaware of the chaos she was causing. She didn’t even realize she was biting her bottom lip, just a little. It was enough to send a fresh wave