WHEN WE SHINE.

chapter six.

"Uh... boss, you're carrying someone." 

Of course, I'm carrying someone. I glanced at my driver. His eyes fell to the floor. Walking to the nearest VIP room, I opened the door. Thank God it's not occupied by some horny ass teenagers. Oceana murmured something, making me look down on her face. I didn't even feel her move. She's so tiny in my arms. 

I placed her down on the small couch slowly. Not wanting to break any of her or even scratch her amazing, soft skin. 

This must be the first time she's been in my club. When I saw her drinking, I asked someone to check all the books and find out if she'd been here before. Looks like it's her first, and well... not to be old fashioned, or what do you call them? A bummer? Not to be a bummer, but it'll be her last. This is my club. She and her little friend will be banned from this club starting tomorrow, and maybe... every other club that I own near here. 

I searched for a towel, something to cover her up. Especially with what the fuck she's parading with. I can't let anyone see her like this. She wore a red, tight, sparkly short dress that only reached her thighs, maybe a little shorter. I groaned. What is she thinking, wearing this? She also had a necklace that looked like a snake wrapped around her neck.

My hands were now on my waist. Jesus. Why would she dress like that in a place like this? People like her should stay away from places like this. Another groan escaped my lips, closing my eyes, I cursed in my own language. What the hell is she doing here?

"Nicolas?" 

Her small, sweet, sunshine-y voice filled the room, my stomach makes another one of those weird shit. I ignored it. I should be mad at her, but it ended as soon as she did her stupid, stupid, sexy dance.

I huffed, "What are you doing here?" 

I looked at her. I had to gulp multiple times just to stop myself from shouting at her. I don't shout at women, but she brings out something in me. And I need to stop it before it spreads inside my entire body.

She's been biting her lips, now it looked like it was bleeding. I sat down beside her. Her face is on my big hands. I touched her bleeding lip. Her lips felt too good to be real, felt too nice for my hands. She opened them a little, making my cock excited. That kiss had been the reason why I couldn't understand a single shit all week, and if I don't get another, I'm going insane. 

No. Nico. No.

I breathed and stood up. Shutting my eyes again. 

"Figlio di puttana!" I said to the walls. You need to control yourself, Nico. Before you ruin everything, not that it's not ruined yet, but you need to fucking calm down. You'll walk away, pretend she didn't happen, pretend she wasn't here. And then go on with your life, easy fucking peasy.

"Nico?" 

Ah fuck. Fuck that.

I looked around again, taking her outfit in. She does look good in it, no shit, but that doesn't make all of this okay. 

"You and your little friend will leave the club." I said coldly. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Her eyes fell to the floor. God, she looked so innocent, so soft.

She nodded. "Sorry." 

Fuck her apologies. 

"A fanabla, Nicolas." I whispered to myself, another angry groan escaping my lips. 

"Nicolas?" Why does she keep saying my name like that? It makes me want to... makes me want to... ah fucking hell.

"What?" 

"Can... can I go now?" She asked like a child asking to go to the washroom. Has she not understood anything? Her eyes met mine, but she didn't look away. I did.

Because if I kept staring at those blue, shady eyes, I'd end up somewhere close to her. And drowning for more. 

Calm the fuck down, Nico.

How do I calm down over someone who didn't even do shit to me?

I closed my eyes, again. For the hundredth fucking times. 

Just tell her to leave, tell her to go. Tell her to never ever come back. Or better off, tell her to leave the fucking country. Throw her a few hundred bucks—

What the fuck, no. She's not like that. Never. 

I knelt down, she moved back a little. Our faces were now on the same height. She smelled like alcohol, something lemon-ish. She blinked; her blue, pretty eyes glowing. 

"Piccolina, why are you here?" I asked her softly, earning me a soft blush on her cheeks. She bowed down, looking at her hands. "Look at me." 

She followed; her eyes set back to mine. "What the hell are you doing here, dancing like that?" 

Not that I didn't enjoy every moment of it. I did, very fucking much. Four more other men did, and that's just way too much for me to handle. If I enjoy something, I want to enjoy it myself. 

She blushed again, a much darker red color on her face. 

"Um... my friend— Chelsea, she uh... told me to..." She trailed off, her hands shaking. Is she scared of me? I held her hands, she continued, "we just wanted to go out. I'm sorry." 

I sighed; how do people stay mad at her? What the hell?

Instead of being mad, I took my phone out. What am I doing? Checking if I got any notifications from anyone, I gave it to her. 

"Your number. Now." 

I've never seen her do anything, because we've only seen each other once or twice, but she does everything so perfectly. Like a goddess, or an angel. She gives me my phone back, and then goes back to looking at whatever it was in her hands. 

"You're never doing that again, Oceana. You hear me?" I asked, my voice hard. She looked up at me, confused.

"Do what?" She asked.

"The dancing." 

"Why?" 

Because I'd take their eyes out and feed it to them if they ever see you like that.

I groaned and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms, I said the most ridiculous thing ever, "Because you looked like a stripper who wanted to be fucked right there and then." 

That's a very bad lie. She never looked like a stripper; she was perfection out there. Every woman in that dance floor wished to be her. I wished I was with her, and hell will pay if any other man who saw her danced wished they'd be with her. No.

Next thing I knew, she was already near the door. Opening it, loud music boomed. Making me groan. 

"Oceana, stop."

She stopped, her posture straight. She didn't look back at me, and I want her to do it. 

"I..." I trailed off, breathing hard.

I knew I said something wrong, knew it wasn't right to say those. But the only way for her to leave and ignore me was to say those words... and I shouldn't have. She'll hate me, so fucking much. 

I closed my eyes. If I apologize, she will still hate me. 

Stay. I want to open my eyes and see her standing in the doorway, waiting for me to talk... or explain. Stay there, I'll explain.

Opening my eyes, that hope I had flown away like a bird in a tree. Why did I even think she'd stay? She barely knows me. I sighed. What a fucked-up week.