Chapter 2 MAN OF THE HOUR

CHAPTER 2: MAN OF THE HOUR

I stepped into my bedroom to meet the floor clean, the space smelling like antiseptic, and my husband leaning on the wall, tapping his feet furiously. I could feel the rage burn into his eyes as he came forth and dealt a harsh slap to my face.

My right cheek burned like a spinning wheel in a hot furnace, and it looked like so. I bow my head, my eyes gazing at the floor trying to count the black tiles to keep me from bursting out tears. Malek loved to see me cry, but I vowed to never shed any tears, not for him.

"Where were you?" He seethed.

"I went to the pharmacy to get some medicine,"

He scoffed, "For what? The little punches I dealt you? You felt like you could talk out of place now because I let you to! I would never let any woman that I bought with billions of Kuwaiti dinars, not dollars, dinars, disrespect me in the way you did," He spat lousily.

I said nothing and so he started to walk around me.

"So, what took you so long? The maids said they saw you leaving more than an hour ago. Have you been seeing someone?" He raged, grabbing my arm and flinging me to the other side of the room.

"No, Malek," I gulped, trying to suppress the pain of being thrown around like a rag doll. "It was windy and I didn't take the driver because you told me never to do that unless I am going out with you,"

He let out a cold, disbelieving hum, and stood in front of me before pointing at the bed, "Take the black dress I laid out for you on the bed. You will be attending my new hotel's opening party with me, only because my new business rival wanted to meet with you. You are not in any way permitted to interact with him. Do I make myself clear?" He bellowed.

I nodded in affirmation, "Yes,"

"I give you thirty minutes to get dressed and clean up. I would have Barney come get you,"

*****************

I settled in the back seat of my husband's black Bugatti Divo, with my hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and my fair, ample breasts almost popping out of the tight knee-length dress that Malek selected for me.

This wasn't the first time that he took me with him to an event, but it was the first time he'd made an effort to show me off at one. I began to have mixed feelings about who this 'business rival' was and what kind of power he held to make my husband shake in his boots.

I was shaken out of my thoughts by the sound of the car door opening. It was my husband's bodyguard, Barney, who opened it and sat next to me, staring ahead, before the chauffeur started to speed off.

"Is Malek not coming with us?" I asked, looking away from him, as he and I formerly had a thing of the past, and it wasn't a good one. But, I suspected him to be a good person since he apologized for what he did afterward.

"No. He's riding alone," he replied stiffly, allowing me to nod silently and look away.

Malek's riding alone only meant that he was shagging one of his mistresses in the car, but I didn't care. It's just that, I hoped his recklessness wouldn't lead him to have another child outside, because that would really suck.

The rest of the ride was silent as usual, but the silence broke when we arrived at the party hall.

Barney opened the door for me and I started to see nothing but white flashes and people yelling for me to pose or wave, but Barney grabbed me by my waist, covering my eyes with his large hands while leading me toward the entrance.

I slapped his hands off of me when the paparazzi were no longer in sight, and he bowed to apologize but I only walked away to the side of the room, where there was no one except the waiters holding glasses of champagne.

The party hall was packed with many people that I didn't know, I could only pinpoint a selected few that I recognized, most of them being the wives of my husband's alcoholic friends who, like me, were in abusive marriages. But, unlike me, those women came from poverty and they swore to withstand the bullying as long as their husbands were buying them designers and expensive cars. How pitiful.

Just then, I felt a hand on my skin, jilting me out of my deep reverie. I turned to look at who it was and was met with the handsome man who invited me to his car earlier.

"Good evening," he greeted, eyeing me down to my breasts, and then looking away when he saw that I caught him staring. "I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I am Dashiell Blackwood. I'm sure you must have heard about me from your husband," he added, looking at me with so much emptiness in his eyes.

"No," I said rudely, almost barfing at his cockiness.

He furrowed his eyebrows and came closer to me, "You didn't have an attitude when we met three hours ago,"

"That was because I thought you wanted to kidnap me," I replied saucily, folding my arms across my chest.

A smirk played on his lips, "Have you ever seen anyone getting kidnapped in a new edition Rolls Royce?" He asked, but I ignored him, and he continued, my legs wobbling as I felt his gaze burn through my side profile, "I only wanted to help you because you looked less privileged," he added.

Anger burned within me as I turned to face him, "What did you just say to me? Or you just said it to get a reaction out of me?" I scowled, and he ignored me, leading me to pull him by his suit.

Just then, I saw Malek walking towards us, smiling like he had just won a trillion dollar lottery. I immediately let go of Dashiell's suit to prevent him from beating me in front of everyone.

"The man of the hour!" Malek gushed, moving to shake his hand, before turning to face me. "He's the one I was telling you about, dear wife. The associate of mine who wanted to meet with you. Dashiell Otto Blackwood!"