𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟐𝟒 | 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐙

One thing men are incapable of is allowing themselves to get rejected.

Their awful, pathetic demeanour after rejection is one that can be studied by the best psychologists on plant Earth. Yet, it'll always stem back to one thing - their own petty insecurities.

Men are the first to jump at insults and place the blame onto the women, always overlooking their own wrongs. And yet, they're the ones who are deemed 'strong' and 'perfect' for society.

Not even this monster that's standing behind me, grinding his dick into my lower thigh is capable of diminishing said stereotype. I'm not one to judge based on them, however this man doesn't take no for an answer.

"Follow me," I whisper in his ear, turning around to face him. I don't miss how his eyes fall into a gaze of sexual desire, and I want to laugh about how much of a fool he is.

The room full of sweaty, dancing bodies make no effort to even budge a centimetre as I, and the dog behind me, manoeuvre our way towards the staircase that leads to the VIP section.

Music pours more drastically into my ears as we make our way closer to the DJ booth, the sight of elderly men staring at the women's bodies making me want to cringe. And kill them all.

I refrain from my intrusive thoughts, after all I had a middle-aged man to take care of.

The creep's rough,calloused hands inch their way down my back, the feeling making me want to cut off his dick and feed him it. His body doesn't leave mine as we make our way up to the first floor, turning right and I shove him into the first empty room my eyes come across.

"You're a feisty one, baby." The creep slurs, his eyes drowsy and blood-shot red, telling me all I need to know. The guy is high on so much shit that I'm certain he's one minute away from a stroke.

My fingers lock the door, adrenaline beginning to pump its way through my veins, my body already knowing the comfort that's going to relieve my limbs.

I look down to my stilettos, and I feel guilt if my red shoes get even a drop of blood onto them. So I take them off, placing them right next to the door in attempt to assure myself that I'll be able to have a quick escape.

I turn around to face the fucker that feels the need to continue his antics even after I slapped his hand away more than once. The word 'horrified' is something that would never be able to describe the feeling I feel as I'm met with the man dressed in only his socks, his minuscule dick on full show.

I place my disgust aside, and tilt my head to the side, smirking at him. He may believe I find him attractive, yet if he was to hear the thoughts that are currently running through my head, he'd jump out the window and run for his life.

"Let's have some fun, baby."

♠

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐎𝐕

The balaclava covering my face doesn't do enough justice to hide the fury rushing through me.

Sweaty bodies don't even acknowledge my existence, nor do the security. Dimitri is on look out, he managed to hack into the system as soon as I told him about my problem. Even after shaking his head and beginning to ramble on about the consequences of my actions, Dimitri still obeyed my orders.

As I press myself against the wall of the hallway, my eyesight managing to find every single man on my radar. My sniper and pistol are both strapped to my waist, covered by my shirt.