Craving Oblivion (New York Billionaires Book 3)

8| Name

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Name

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Chapter 8: Name (Logan's POV)

I glanced over at Zarah as we neared her street and found her sound asleep with her head resting against the window and her arms loosely folded across her chest. 

Letting out a soft sigh, I diverted my attention back to the road ahead. 

The last thing I wanted during this trip to New York was to run into Zarah again. I convinced myself that it wouldn't happen, yet here I was helping the woman escape the police after stabbing some drugged creep in the leg. It was so like her to do that, it didn't surprise me much. 

Zarah could defend herself where it counted and I couldn't deny that it was a horrible situation for anybody to be forced into, especially Zarah, who absolutely hated this world her family was a part of. But thankfully, she knew just enough to keep herself out of these kinds of situations. 

Whether it was her who followed trouble or trouble that followed her, being around her would lead most people to their own unraveling and destruction. She knew how to make people crumble to their knees if she wanted them to... I wouldn't be one of them. 

I knew it from the very first moment that Zarah was someone I had to stay away from for my own sanity. Luckily for me, she seemed to share the same feelings and kept her distance from me. 

We weren't compatible people, we were too different, wanted different things, and couldn't agree on anything. It was evident the first time I met her. It was hate at first sight and hate for life. Zarah and I just couldn't get along, whether it was the power battle, the arrogance in us both, or our pure hatred for each other. Probably the last one. 

The first time I met Zarah was at a small poker night her father hosted after I worked with him for the first time on a case. It was clear from the moment she walked into the room that she didn't want to be there and entertain her father's guests. 

The party was her father's, so was the deal, and so was the place, but when Zarah walked into that room... she owned it. And I hated the way my attention drifted to her.

Everyone's voices hushed down as heels echoed along the library floors, getting louder with each step. 

I twirled a poker chip between my fingers as someone asked Mr. Romano who it could be. 

I took a quick scan of the library, for the dark, modern yet minimalistic interiors, the shelves stacked with books, the bar located at the very back of the library with a poker table to the right of it, and a coffee table with some couches to the left. The bar had a huge chandelier hanging above it while the counter's stone lit up from within, illuminating the room enough for all of us while the rest of the space was drenched in darkness. 

"Gentlemen," came an unfamiliar voice from behind me. 

I refused to turn around as everybody greeted her with short hellos and nods.