Impressing the Clients

57

Paula's POV

I fluttered my eyes open. I was in a different room now. I was in an oversized silk black robe and nothing underneath. Where could I be?

"Oliver!" I called out as I sat up. Two sets of the most mesmerizing eyes shot at me as their heads snapped to me.

Mason and Marco.

They're here. They're at the couch at the corner of the room, with their sharp suits and their whiskey in their hands, of course.

"I'm disappointed that you're calling out his name and not mine," Marco stood up and smiled softly at me. I chuckled, "what a jealous man," and tried to sit up and he helped me. He looked all worried. A new side of him I get to see. I looked over at Mason who remained on his seat, still looking so serious. Just staring at me.

"Not even a hello?" I asked him. "This is not the way I imagined to greet you once I see you again," he answered.

"No one imagined," I replied back and looked down. My tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

When I knew they're coming here for business, I was so fucking excited to see them again. To be with them again. But the fucking universe had to fuck me up more before I could see them.

"Love, look at me," Mason commanded, and of course, I obliged. He was walking up to me and kneeled in front of me. "We won't let anything happen like that ever again, I promise," he whispered.

"But, I can handle myself," I meekly replied, still trying to be independent.

"For once, Paula," Marco kissed me shoulders, "let us take care of you, please."

They both looked at me, waiting for an answer. I didn't want to be alone right now. I can't handle my demons, my past and my shattered hopes. Just like that, I was back from where I was when I was a child. I had no one, no future. Just a fucking painful past and a shattered present. So I nodded, agreeing to them for once.

"Good girl," Mason kissed my forehead.

"Promise me one thing," I looked at him in the eyes, tears falling, "don't kill him."

"That's not up for discussion," Mason clenched his jaw.

"He's mine to take, not yours," I spat back with so much anger. But not entirely towards Ian. I hated myself more than I hated him, more than I hated my past, more than I hated the demons in my closet.

"We can't promise that," Marco hooked the strands of hair from my face to my ears, "I wanted to gut his throat the moment I set foot in this country."

"He's fucking mine, don't make this about you," I gritted my teeth as I teared up and gave them both a sharp, warning look. They both shared a look as if arguing mentally and Marco gave Mason a slight nod.

"We won't kill him," Mason sighed, "but we'll definitely break him. No more discussions about this." He finally sat beside me.

"How can you be so fucking good to him after what he did?" Marco asked in disbelief.

"Nobody said I'd be good to him," I wiped my eyes with my shirt, "I honestly want to fucking do it myself but I have to deal with myself first and see from there." I stood up, grabbed one of their drinks at the coffee table and drank up.

"That's not your breakfast," Mason warned me as I grabbed the other glass as well. I looked at him, daring what he just said, as I downed the second drink too. I might let them take care of me, but that didn't mean I won't dare to disobey.

"Still so fucking stubborn," he mumbled and readjusted the silhouette of his half alive cock. I gulped, for a brief moment I was turned on. But this was a good chance to knock some sense into them.