Clay's Unwanted Blondie

Chapter 3

                             ♥⁠╣CLAY╠⁠♥

"CLAY CERVANTES in Konstantinos estate? They must have spiked my drink either that or my eyes ain't seeing right"

"It's nice to see you again, Mr Adams", he gave the old man a pat on the back.

"It really is you!" Mr Adams exclaimed drawing in too much attention than Clay would have liked.

"Hey about my piece of land. How much do you think Cervantes Co would wager for it? You could come by sometime and I could show you--"

"How about I take a raincheck on that, Mr Adams? We are here to party after all", he lied. He would practically do anything to get away from him.

"You are right, son. I wonder what's taking Alistair so long", the geezer continued taking another shot before his gaze landed on the staircase.

"She's quite a beau, isn't she? Beautiful and innocent blondies were such rare species around my time. Blondies at my time were out there playing Madonna with all the crazy coke shit but her? She's a sight for sore eyes"

Clay followed his gaze and he scoffed wondering what Henry Adams was going on about. They must have spiked his drink somehow because Brooklyn Konstantinos wasn't a sight for sore eyes.

Her blonde hair wasn't the right shade of blonde, her cheeks were rather puffy and red in contrast to the color on her neck and her taste of fashion was bad if not gruesome.

He watched as she slowly mingled with almost everyone in the crowd, something he hated. She was an attention seeker. A woman who drew too much to herself by talking and smiling at every damn word any man threw at her.

Watching her agitated him. If he married her, God he would develop PTSD.

She wasn't Calandria and it surprised him that they were even related.

Alistair Konstantinos had always been an ugly bastard but his daughter Calandria, now she was a sight for sore eyes while Brooklyn, with her walk, her stance, her smile, her soulless eyes, he might as well have said she was the spitting image of her father.

"My bladder isn't working like it used to, boyo. I need to take a piss"

Adams excused himself and Clay couldn't be happier. With a glass of vodka in his hands he meandered through the crowd looking for Calandria.

And boom! Like fate was setting path for him, he saw her.

Clad in a pink truffled dress, her black hair up in a ponytail, she looked gorgeous as ever. Her cleavage stood out against her chest and unlike Brooklyn's laced blue dress, her dress was far classier and prettier.

God, why was he even comparing them both? Calandria won at everything. She was mature, near his age, beautiful and so dignified.

He took two steps intent on heading towards her to have a chat only he got stopped but what Calandria was looking at.

Following her gaze, he peered at the man helping Brooklyn Konstantinos outside the huge ballroom-like living room.

"Fuck me", he muttered agitatedly gulping the stinging liquid down his throat.

Ashton Drakkon was his competition? Calandria was in love with Ashton? Jesus Christ, what a small world it was.

The love of his life was in love with his arch nemesis. How had he not seen that coming?

That look in Calandria's eyes bugged him. She should have had eyes for him. He loved her first! Not Ashton fucking Drakkon.

The night getting even worse, Calandria followed them and he stayed put like a kid who'd gotten his candy stolen.