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A Stormy Night and a Fiery Encounter
The rain had drenched the city, leaving behind a biting cold that seeped into the bones. Evening had fallen, but the persistent drizzle and the gloomy sky made it feel like midnight.
Pedestrians hurried along, huddled under umbrellas, rushing to their destinations. Amidst the chaos, a sleek black car came to a stop in front of an upscale restaurant. The door opened, and out stepped a man, his black dinner suit fitting him to perfection.
In his hands, he carried a bouquet of deep red roses.
The warmth of the restaurant was a stark contrast to the cold outside. Golden candlelight flickered on every table, casting a dreamy glow. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd, searching—until they found their target.
A smirk curved his lips as he ran a hand through his already flawless hair before striding toward her.
Leaning down, he whispered near her ear, "Hello, beautiful."
The curly-haired girl gasped before breaking into a delighted smile. "Oh, Derek!" she squealed, wrapping her arms around him.
Derek handed her the bouquet, which she took with delicate fingers. "Thanks," she said sweetly, dimples appearing as she smiled.
Derek leaned back, giving her a once-over. She had dressed to kill—black fitted pants and a sleek coat with a dangerously low neckline. Her makeup was flawless, the red lipstick adding an extra touch of allure. She was breathtaking, and she knew it.
As she settled into her seat, he mirrored her movement.
"Looking hot," he complimented.
"Same as you," she shot back with a flirtatious glance.
Derek simply smirked.
To anyone watching, he was just another charming man on a romantic date. But only those who truly knew him understood—this was Derek. The same troublemaker who could turn anyone's life upside down in an instant.
"Waiter." Derek's voice broke the moment, calling over a passing server.
A young waitress rushed over, her eyes instantly lighting up when she saw him. She barely spared Olivia a glance as she eagerly noted down his order.
Olivia noticed. And she didn't like it.
"Same for me," she quickly added, just to get the waitress away.
But the girl lingered. "Anything else, sir?" she asked in an unnecessarily sweet tone.
Derek barely looked at her, but before he could respond—
"Nothing. You may go now."
Olivia's voice cut through the air like a blade.
The waitress stiffened before glaring at Olivia and stomping away.
Derek chuckled. "That was interesting."
Olivia flipped her hair over her shoulder, brushing it off. But Derek kept staring at her hair.
A few moments of silence passed before he casually asked, "Have you seen Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief?"
Olivia, expecting another compliment, smiled. "Yes, why?"
Derek tilted his head. "You remind me of a character from that movie."
Excited, Olivia leaned forward. "Really? Which one?"
A devilish grin spread across his face. "Medusa."
Olivia froze. "What?!"
"You know... the woman with snakes for hair?" he added helpfully.
A deadly silence followed.
Olivia's expression darkened as realization hit her. He had just compared her gorgeous, professionally styled hair to Medusa's writhing snakes.
Rage boiled in her veins.
Without hesitation, she grabbed her wine glass and threw the drink straight at his face.
Gasps echoed across the restaurant.
Derek blinked, his wet lashes dripping wine. Before he could react, the over-efficient waitress rushed in and refilled Olivia's glass.
And Olivia? She tossed the drink at him again.
And again.
Now, the entire restaurant was watching. Some people had even pulled out their phones, recording the scene with gleeful anticipation.
Derek stood there, wine dripping from his hair, his expression unreadable.
Olivia smirked triumphantly. "A man like you doesn't deserve to date me."
Derek simply stared at her, his intense gaze making her shift uncomfortably. Then, without a word, he turned and walked out.
Olivia huffed, paid the bill, and stepped outside.
The drizzle had turned into a light shower, and as she walked toward her car, an expensive black car sped past her, hitting a puddle—
And drenching her from head to toe.
She froze, utterly horrified.
The car reversed and stopped beside her. The tinted window rolled down, revealing Derek, grinning like the devil himself.
"How did you like the drink?" he asked mockingly.
Olivia's jaw clenched. "Stop laughing, you fool!"
Derek pressed a finger to his lips in a mock gesture of obedience, but his teasing smirk remained.
Fuming, Olivia turned on her heel and marched toward her car—
And just as she reached it, Derek's car zoomed past her again, splashing another wave of water over her.
This time, she let out a strangled scream.
Derek's laughter echoed through the night as he drove off.
"You'll pay for this!" Olivia seethed, glaring at his retreating car.
An Uncontrollable Laughter
Inside a nearby restaurant, Isabella and Hanan sat across from Emma, watching in shock as she burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Hanan had brought her here to cheer her up, but she had remained distant—until she witnessed Olivia drenching Derek with wine.
Now, she was practically crying from laughing so hard.
Hanan shook his head. "Emma, why are you laughing so much?"
"Because that 'poor guy' is the reason I sprained my foot!" Emma retorted before launching into the full story.
Hanan took a sip of his juice, barely suppressing his own laughter. A slight smile tugged at his lips.
Emma caught it instantly. "You're laughing!"
"Nope." He quickly straightened his face. But it was too late—she had seen.
Emma turned away in mock annoyance, facing the window.
Hanan chuckled and was about to say something when his phone rang. Seeing "Mom Calling" on the screen, he sighed before answering.
"Hani, dear, where are you?" Shazia Begum's voice was filled with forced sweetness.
"I'm with Emma."
A pause.
Shazia's smile vanished. "You were supposed to come to dinner with us."
"Oh, sorry, Mom. I'll drop Emma home and come right away."
"Don't bother. She can go by herself."
Hanan clenched his jaw. He had expected disapproval, but hearing it still stung.
"I'm coming, Mom," he said and ended the call before she could say anything else.
Without another word, he stood up, paid the bill, and gestured for Emma to follow.
The ride back was silent.
When he pulled up in front of her house, he rushed out to open her door, but she had already stepped out, leaning on Isabella for support.
"Emma."
She turned to him but didn't speak.
"Are you angry?"
"Just go, Hanan."
He frowned. "I won't leave until you say you're not angry."
Emma sighed. "I'm not angry. Happy now?"
A slow smile spread across his lips. "Yes. Very."
"Then go!" she huffed.
Hanan hesitated, but then nodded. "Goodnight, Emma."
With that, he drove away, leaving Emma staring after him, an unreadable expression in her eyes.
Little did she know, this night had only been the beginning.
The King of Ruin
The bass of the music throbbed through the walls, sending vibrations through the crowded club. Under flashing neon lights, bodies swayed in intoxicated bliss—some lost in the music, others lost in their own chaos.
Yet, despite the crowd, the real spectacle was in the farthest corner of the bar.
There, sprawled on a velvet lounge, sat the arrogant king.
John.
A cigarette dangled carelessly between his fingers, his other hand wrapped around a glass of dark liquor. His navy-blue eyes, now bloodshot, stared blankly at the dance floor, reflecting nothing but emptiness.
His disheveled hair, the undone buttons of his shirt, the missing coat—nothing took away from his raw, devastating allure. If anything, his recklessness only made him more intoxicating. Women stole glances at him between their dance moves, whispering to each other, mesmerized by his careless charm.
A girl in a tight red top approached him, her confidence unwavering. Without hesitation, she plucked the glass from his hand and took a sip, her lips curling into a seductive smile.
John didn't react.
Emboldened by his silence, she leaned in and pressed a bold kiss against his cheek.
Still, no reaction.
Then, slowly, his eyes shifted to her.
And without a single word, he stood up, grabbed her wrist, and led her away—towards the private rooms at the back of the bar.
The girl followed eagerly, her face glowing with triumph.
John never looked back.
The night stretched on, slow and endless, drowning in darkness, music, and the kind of destruction only he knew how to embrace.
To be continue