Stay Away from Pleasure

Chapter Eight

12:02PM

I'm earlier than I expected to be. I get out of the car and make my way to the café. As I open the door, I see that it's almost completely packed. My eyes widen as I look around until I find my target in the green cap. Moment of truth.

I walk to the table near the back and the closer I get, the more I can make out of his appearance. Yes, his. I can tell by the broad shoulders and the strong arms hidden under his hoodie that it's a man. Only the tip of his cap is shown. The rest is hidden underneath his black hoodie. I walk up beside him.

"You're not as late as I thought you'd be." The man said.

British — he's British.

Fiddling with the tip of my curls, I sit down in the seat opposite him and put my bag and the car keys on the table.

"I see you haven't slept with him yet." The man mutters.

My eyes widen at the statement. "I — I don't–"

"You don't need to feel uncomfortable. It's a good thing you haven't slept with him." He drank the coffee on the table "But I don't think you should've stayed at his place."

My eyebrows narrow, "are you following me or something?"

"I don't have to." He points at a keychain on the car keys, "ML. Matthew Legato. You don't seem to listen to good advice."

"Not from strangers." I mumble.

Nervously, I twist one of my curls around my finger and then pull the stray piece back behind my ear. Everything about his demeanour shows his power. Just his mere presence — those broad shoulders, erect posture, sharp jawline and rigid stature — intimidates me.

I wouldn't call it wisdom, but there's an indescribable feeling I get when he says something. It comes across as a statement but it still feels like a question... Like he's hoping he's right so it just remains a statement, but he's still stood at the door to that chamber of doubt. Despite my incredible lack of knowledge of this stranger, it's clear he most definitely seems to know a lot about me.

"You obviously know who I am," I lick my lips as I feel them running dry, "and I'd be a lot more comfortable if I at least knew your name."

"Zack Leroy." He sticks his hand out.

Leroy? I blink frantically, utterly bemused. It couldn't be. Well, I work at L&C which stands for Leroy and Cory founded by Zachary Leroy and Jude Cory. Creasing my eyebrows, I look deeper into the man and under his cap. Once I see his face and those blue eyes, I gasp and sit upright in my seat.

"Sir, I am so sorry." I have no idea what I'm apologising for.

He is the big guy. The boss of them all and I had never met him. I have seen him, of course. He's all over the building I work in, on posters and in the flesh.

"Look, I didn't come here for you to kiss my ass." He leaned in closer, tucking his hand away and closing as much of the gap between us as he could. "I just want you to know that I know Matthew very well and you should steer clear of him."

"Why?" I pout. "Everyone says this, but no one says why."

Zack leans in further and lowers his voice, "he will suck you in and then hurt you in ways you could never imagine. He is a sick man. He's a monster."

"What has he done?" I breathe.

"The real question is, what hasn't he done?" He leans back and drinks his coffee again.