TWO HEARTS, ONE DANCE

CHAPTER 3: TWO HEARTS, ONE DANCE

As my husband and Dashiell continued to talk about business and crazily boring stuff, I felt the urge to run away from the party. The larger it was, the more I felt like I wanted to vomit.

I haven't known Dashiell for more than a day but I could tell that he was a man of few words and works. His aura was enough for him to voice out a five thousand worded essay in two minutes. I kind of admired him, plus, he was hotter than Malek. Malek looked like the effect of a failed chemistry practical. Curly hair, big head, large stomach, and thin legs.

And he called me ugly?

Me?

I am the epitome of beauty and perfection. Every time I walked past my husband's friends, their eyelashes fluttered like they wanted to make them fly out of their shorts. They studied me like I was their business textbook, and when they saw me, it was like the light had been restored to darkness.

I am the air that those men breathe. My beauty rises and kills. They could chew my long hair that cascades down my shoulder to my thin waist for a living and would still crave for more. When my pair of green eyes meet theirs, they salivate and lose the ability to breathe. When my plum, red lips start to move, they stop whatever they are saying and wait for me to finish. When I walk, they wait until I pass for them to shut their eyes and take in the aroma of my fresh rose fragrance.

In my opinion, Malek was just jealous that his sisters looked like him. What could a family of failed practicals know about grace and beauty?

"Mrs Kashem?" I felt a tap on my skin, and I turned to see Dashiell's cold gaze on mine. He was so close that I could perceive the scent of his wood spice musk.

"Would you like to dance?" He asked with that unwavering facade. I looked behind him to make eye contact with my husband, and he looked like he was being forced to agree, but he did. Anything to get in Mr Blackwood's favor, I suppose.

"Sure," I replied, faking a smile, as I placed my small hands in his rough ones.

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I closed my eyes as the soft jazz music began to play overhead, enjoying the music before Mr Blackwood's baritone voice ruined it, "You seem to be enjoying the music," he said, allowing me to roll my eyes.

"Your husband wouldn't be pleased to know that you take pleasure in disrespecting people. However, I choose not to tell him because I don't want him to land you in the hospital. Everyone knows that he beats you, it's not a secret," he added, prompting me to look at him, wide-eyed.

I gulped, embarrassed by what he had just said, "I didn't know-"

"It's fine," he answered, cutting me off and then twirling me around.

As if on cue, my eyes landed on my husband who was watching us, keen with interest, but he looked like he was about to set the place on fire. And then he crossed his finger over his neck to symbolize that he was going to kill me.

"He won't do anything," Dashiell assured, bringing my head to look at him. "I will protect you," he added.

"Why?" I asked, almost croaking.

That creepy smirk played on his lips as he replied, "Because I want to ruin him. He doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as me and you, don't you agree?" He inquired, his hands around my waist getting tighter by the second. He pushed my body towards him, my breasts, pressing his hard abs, cause he was rather tall.

My breath hitched as I felt the hotness between us grow from zero to a hundred, minus the fact that I could feel everyone's eyes on us.

"What do you know?" I asked, my eyes watery because the tension burned me.

"Enough. I know you have a son. He's four years old. But, Malek doesn't want to make him the inheritor of his empire when he dies, because he has a disability,"

My eyes grew, "He does?" My voice quaked with fear. I didn't even know that my boy… he was disabled.

"He must be so scared without his mother to guide him," I added, a tear rolling down my cheek.

I snapped out of my little tearful moment when Dashiell pressed me closer again, this time, I could feel his hot breath on my skin, "Stop drifting away," he warned, and moved to his normal position.

"I have a proposition for you, Zahra, and I would state it here because I am a man of honesty. Malek's empire is built on the blood and sweat of innocent people, he steals and doesn't return, and he has stolen something from me, and I want it back. And you will help me,"

I scoffed, "Me? I don't know how to do anything,"

He twirled me around again and drew me closer, "I'll teach you,"

I gulped, pushing to be a little greedy, "What's in it for me?"

I felt his taps against my skin, and I moved to look him in the eye, "I will help you get your son back, and also help you reinstate him back into Malek's will. That little boy is the key to your freedom, Zahra. There is no corner of this world that you can hide that Malek wouldn't find you. And we have to be fast, "he implored.

"Why?" I asked again.

"I have intel and ears on every wall in the world, and one of them tells me that one of Malek's mistresses just confirmed that she was pregnant. If it is a girl, we can buy ourselves more time to take what's ours, but if it's a boy, you will get kicked out of the Kashem household, disgracefully, or because he follows Sharia law, will keep you as his first wife, while he transfers all his inheritance to the boy and his mother, and you wouldn't want that now, would you?" He asked, his words burning my ear bit by bit.

How could Malek be so cruel?

How could he destin me to such fate, where there's no hope for survival?

I knew that no matter how many boys I gave birth to for that loser, he would still keep me out of his will, and I was done being thrown wall to wall by him because I didn't want to unintentionally harm my son.

"How can I trust you?" I asked naively, leading him to give me that cold smirk, before spinning me and bending my back to lean over me before flipping my head to the side.

"Look at the lady in the ripped blue gown," he commanded, and I turned to look at her. "She's the mistress, and if you want, I have ten of my men outside with guns, ready to shoot her on the spot, if you would just ask me to,"

However, tempting his offer was, I would never want him to kill an innocent baby for me, "No. Let's play the long game," I replied, returning his smug smile.