Chapter 7 First love

Their first public appearance was going to be at Pure Seduction, a weekly party hosted by a notorious drug lord at one of his exclusive clubs in the city.

Hazel took one last look at herself in the amoeba-shaped mirror. The red sequin dress Damiete had gifted her hugged her body like a second skin. Its thigh-high slit showed off her legs, and the deep V neckline gave her bosom a sultry allure. Her makeup was light, accentuating her natural beauty, and her hair cascaded down her back in loose waves.

He heard the sound of her heels clicking against the marble floor. Damiete turned and looked in her direction. His breath caught.

"You..." His gaze roamed her body. "You look breathtaking. Necks are going to snap looking at you." His eyes settled on her chest.

"Eyes up here, Mr. Torres." She flicked her hair back. "Are you going to stare all night or shall we head out?" She rolled her eyes.

That was it, she smiled inwardly. Stare all you want Mr. Damiete because I'll make you crave this body with your life.

He smirked. "Let's go." Hazel walked past him to the door, while his eyes were fixed on her derriere. Tonight was going to be fun!

PURE SEDUCTION

They walked into the club, her hand nestled in the crook of his arm. Murmurs and stolen glances followed their every step. People whispered. The media had painted her Hazel, as one of his flings while Damiete reckless.

Now, they were in the club, hand in hand. None of it made sense to anyone who knew about the drama between them.

Hazel played her part as a dutiful wife perfectly-smiling brightly, laughing when appropriate, allowing Damiete to introduce her around to his acquaintances.

"It was just a misunderstanding," they told anyone who asked. "The media blew it out of proportion."

"You're doing well, Mrs. Torres." Damiete's breath was hot on her neck, his arm wrapping around her waist. A shudder ran down her spine.

"I could say the same for you, Mr. Torres."

"Let's grab a drink." He was already leading her to the bar. They took their seats on the bar stool, as they waited for the bartender to attend to others.

At the bar, the bartender-clearly shocked-did a double take when he realized who she was. Damiete, a club regular, and this... wife? It didn't add up.

"You're here with someone today? The bartender let his curiosity get the better of him. "You only come here with Miss Vanessa."

A frown settled on Damiete's face at the mention of her name. She was dead, buried and forgotten.

The bartender quicky turned to Hazel, who was wondering who Vanessa was and why her name made the smile on his face disappear.

"What would the beautiful lady like to have?" he asked.

"A Piña Colada," Hazel replied.

Damiete burst into laughter. "What did you say?

She frowned at him. Did she crack a joke? What was so funny about what she had just said? "What's funny?"

"You're at Pure Seduction asking for a Piña Colada? Might as well ask for orange juice." He laughed.

Hazel's jaw clenched. Alcohol made her lose control-maybe the reason she'd fallen into his bed that first night. If only she hadn't had that drink... She wouldn't be here, getting laughed at.

"You scared of a little alcohol?" he teased, downing a shot and biting into a lime without flinching.

She rolled her eyes. "No. I just don't feel like drinking."

"Lies. It's obvious you're scared," he mocked.

Her pride stung. Oh, she was going to prove him wrong. Hazel grabbed a shot and downed it, something she quickly regretted. The liquid burned her throat and twisted her face in disgust- she almost puked, but she swallowed it.

Damiete couldn't hold back his laughter. He laughed so hard, he clutched his chest that was beginning to hurt.

Anger flared in her chest. She snatched her purse. "I'll be back." She stormed off.

"I didn't mean it!" he called after her, but the music swallowed his voice. He rose up, and chased after her but she entered the Ladies room, and slammed the door.

In the restroom, Hazel set her purse on the sink and grabbed her powder.

"Who does he think he is?" she muttered, powdering her face a little too roughly. "He laughed at me."

The door creaked open. Hazel glanced at the mirror, thinking Damiete had dared to enter but it wasn't him.

A woman stepped in, wearing a similar dress in a different color. Her hair was cut to her shoulders, her eyes locked on Hazel with a venomous glare.

Hazel stepped aside slightly as the woman moved to the other sink.

"One thing I hate," the woman said, running a brush through her hair while staring at Hazel's reflection, "is wretched people who don't know their place."

Hazel moved a bit. Was she drunk? Talking to herself? Or did she have a quarrel with someone?

She reached into her purse for her lipstick. Before she could open it, the woman snatched it from her hand.

"Are you crazy? Give that back," Hazel said, reaching for it.

The woman yanked her hand away-and she broke off the lipstick, and crushed it under her heel.

Hazel's eyes widened in shock. "That was my favorite lipstick!"

"You should have never walked into his life," the woman said, stepping closer. She was a bit taller yet Hazel stood her ground. No one was going to trample upon her ever again.

"Damiete is mine. I don't know what you two have going on, but take my advice-leave. While you still can."

Hazel let out a dry laugh. "Ah, I get it. You're one of his flings right? Damiete belongs to no one Incase you don't know."

The woman smirked and leaned in. "No, honey. I'm Damiete's first and only love. Ask him about Vanessa."

Vanessa? Her brows furrowed. Earlier, the bartender had mentioned her name. So this was her?

Hazel stared at the door, as Vanessa walked out, her pulse racing. She looked down at her ruined lipstick and gritted her teeth.

"Vanessa?" she repeated under her breath. Then she chuckled darkly. "Guess I'll just have to add her to the list."

She wasn't killing two birds with one stone now. Not only was she going to make money, she'd break Damiete and also put Vanessa in her place.

She picked up her purse, fluffed her hair, and walked out of the restroom with renewed purpose.

Vanessa stood with two other women, glaring.

Hazel grabbed a drink from a tray and downed it for courage. She needed it for what she was about to do.

Damiete stood with two men, laughing and talking. Hazel walked up to him, yanked him down by the tie, and kissed him.

The glass in her hand fell to the floor, shattering into pieces. Vanessa's hand trembled, the remnants of her drink at her feet.

How dare she!