The Billionaire's Second Endeavour

JOY

I looked at the carved signboard hung on the door. Bridal Suite. If I didn't say goodbye now, there wouldn't be an appropriate time left, I reminded myself. Looking left to right, I walked in, twisting the knob with my shaking hands.

The room was large with comparatively less furniture than I'd expected-all sofas and cushions, shifted to one side of the room, making enough space for the bride to move around freely.

I was surprised to see my best friend, Aubrey Evans, alone in the room on her big day. There should've been hoards of people helping her with her dress. But here she was, standing in front of the mirror and her hand constantly stroking her belly-something she'd often done when she was nervous.

She was ready. The sheath wedding dress clung to her slender body, skimming down and falling straight to the floor below her hips.

"Don't tell me you feel like shitting right now." A smile tugged at her lips as I stepped in, smiling as brightly as I could. I teased, "That would be a disaster, given your dress."

There is something new about Aubrey, a spark in her eyes that I haven't seen before. She laughs out while shaking her head.

"You look so pretty. I feel like crying but, fuck, I can't ruin my makeup." I rubbed the corners of my eyes dramatically to which she pinched my arm.

"I can't believe I'm doing this... I'm devastated right now."

"Oh, that's not good." I creased my brows. "Don't tell me you're gonna make the classic Runaway Bride move."

"Pfft!" She swayed her hand over her face and added, "Are you kidding me? I'm doing this...but I'm just scared."

Aubrey was one of those people who had always been certain about what they want in life. And being the walking mess that I was, I'd always admired that about her. But for the first time, she actually seemed perplexed.

"Well, don't be. As dramatic as it sounds you've loved him since the moment you met him," I said with a hint of convivial mockery, to which she giggled.

"How quickly it's been two years. Time really flies by."

"Well, I'm surprised that you guys managed to fool around for that long. The looks you both used to give each other with longing and all that bullshit, used to make me want to puke... It was cute though, cute to see an ass like Jordan struggling. But I'm glad he figured his shit out."

There was a slight change visible in Aubrey's expressions, sadness taking over her brown eyes. She looked down at her feet, her white heels.

"I just... It's the best day of my life and Dad's not even here. He didn't even bother to call me and congratulate me. Once." Her voice choked and she cleared her throat. "I tried to talk him into walking me down the aisle...but he didn't answer. I don't know why I care."

"You care because he's your dad." I knew there was nothing in the world I could've said to make her feel better and I felt awfully angry at myself because of that. "I don't know how to console you on this. He cares for you but he has a shitty way of showing it."

"As if he ever tries to show it! He thinks I am happy without him. How do I convince him that it's anything but?"

"You don't. He'll come around, eventually."

"Still not the same, J. Fathers are supposed to be there for their daughter's big day. It's not like he's dead"-Aubrey grunted, then shook her head-"I just want him to know that there's still time to save our relationship. We can still work on it and everything will be fine if we just try."

"What's done is done, Aubs. Don't let it ruin your day before it begins."

She nodded, projecting a fake smile. She knew it is never worked in front of me but she tried to mask her grief anyway. "You know what? You're right. I mustn't."

"You know, I'm more worried about myself. You'll be off with your husband while I'll be here in my PJs every weekend, binge-watching Friends"-I muttered with utter despair-"a loner, always and forever."

She laughed out. "That's not entirely a bad thing, to be honest."

"Wow, really insensitive way to comfort your best friend, Aubs!"

"This is my way of telling you that you need a guy."

I didn't need a guy. The last time I checked, I was too old for silly entitlements like boyfriend-girlfriend-soon to be twenty-nine. I clicked my tongue and crossed my arms over my chest, raising a brow.

"I need a man."

Aubrey jumped with excitement and cursed at herself as she realized she was not in her casual outfits at the moment. "You do need a man. Should I play matchmaker, in case you're too tired of doing it yourself?"

My eyes widened and I pushed my palms out to Aubrey's face. "No no, I am fine. I can't deal with men like Jordan, which is what your choices in men look like: narcissistic, self-centred and over-possessive."

"Hey, don't hate on my husband," Aubrey drawled, pouting her lips.

"Aren't all best friends supposed to? It's a universal law." I wanted to laugh but sighed instead. "Now that you're married, I'm sure Dad will start with matchmaking, which is worse than yours."

"He wants to see you happy."

I was sure he did. But at this moment, I couldn't help but reminisce about the olden days with Aubrey, sitting in a cafe late at night after work and making fun of our bosses together.

A shrill voice followed through the door with a mild knock. "Aubrey. Joyce. May I come in?"

I unlocked the door, acknowledging the voice.

Cassandra, Jordan's mother walked in with a blue box in her hand, her elegant peach-coloured gown dragging behind her as she walked and her golden hair braided and tied into a bun. Her presence was beyond intimidating.

"Thank you, Cassy," Aubrey spoke, clearing her throat.

Cassy smiled, opening the box and pulled out a vintage hairpin with a few white and blue stones attached to it.

"This is for you." Taking it in her hand, Cassy placed the box by the table. "This has been in the Sykes' family through generations. This was given to me by my mother-in-law when I entered the household and now...I give it to you."

Aubrey mumbled, "It's beautiful."

"I got it polished and replaced the stones with new ones." Cassy clasped the hairpin in Aubrey's lustrous brown hair, over the veil knotted to her bun. "I also have another surprise."

Cassy gave me a side glance with a grin that made me press my brow. She jerked her head toward the door, making both me and Aubrey turn. I watched as a familiar figure walked in, his hands inside the pocket of his black pants. My jaw dropped. Honestly, I had not expected this but my happiness was beyond comparison.

Standing by the door was none other than Bill Evans, Aubrey's dad, dressed in a black tuxedo. His black and white hair is combed to the side. He flashed a smile to me before drifting his eyes toward his daughter.

I whirled around to steal a glance at Aubrey, only to see her in tears. It broke my heart and mended it all the same. I observed the beautiful moment, slowly stepping back while Uncle Bill moved past me toward Aubrey and wrapped his hands around her.

"I will see you around then," I said, walking out of the room and closed the door behind me.

This moment was going to be very precious for Aubrey. I was desperate to see Uncle Bill walking her down the aisle. He wanted to as it seemed from his voice when I'd called him last night, even though he was uncertain at that time.

This was the best pre-wedding gift Aubrey had received.

***

VINCE

I stared at myself through the mirror. My black hair gelled and pushed back, the collar of my white shirt pinned and the expensive Hackett tuxedo properly arranged over my body. All that was left was the bow tie to complete the look.

"Are you nervous?" I asked Jordan, the tall figure beside me with dirty blonde hair and an overly excited look on his face.

Perfection is everything-had always been our motto although there'd been times when we both wished that it wasn't.

"Shouldn't I be? I am about to get married."

"You're getting a fucking leash is what you're doing," I mocked.

Jordan was happy as it seemed by the look on his face, his eyes twinkling. But the only thing that bugged me was: how is his life going to change after this?

Both Jordan and I had had all the fun life could offer. Promiscuity had been our nature, though it had died down since we were both in our early thirties. At least his had died down.

I wondered if he was truly sure and wasn't hastily making the decision. It was a feeling that dawned on me on the thoughts of my past mistakes. Love is cruel, I'd grown to believe. Not everyone can have their happily ever after. Like me.

I was, now, the richest yet most promiscuous bachelor of New York. My success came quicker when I was lost. It was my determination that had shown me the path to where I was currently. Someone had once said that I wasn't good enough for love so I bested in everything that covered up that lacking part.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" My voice was filled with concern.

Jordan kept staring at me for the longest time before putting on a phlegmatic smile and answered, "I have never been so damn sure about anything my entire life, Vi." His answer was confident, leaving me with no doubts. I smiled as his happiness was all I'd ever wished for. "You should now start looking for a woman for yourself too," Jordan added.

I coughed and glanced at Jordan through the mirror with a raised brow. He knew why this topic always knocked the air out of my lungs. I was okay with being a sex debauched man but not okay with a ring on my finger and a leash around my neck.

"You are kidding, right? Not everybody has a good love fortune like you, pal. Me? I have tested mine. Even the fucking universe has stated I should stay away from that atrocity people call love."

I laughed, hoping Jordan would too but he remained silent.

"You know it would be better for you and your-"

I cleared my throat as loudly as possible before he could use his only weapon of emotional torture against me. "Jordy, it's your wedding. Let's not talk about my life and for once, focus on yours instead. I'd grant you the honour of lecturing me some other day."

We headed out laughing among ourselves and stood near the stage, greeting the other two of the other best men. We all took our positions behind Jordan when the music began playing.

I was too caught in the moment, a reverie of emotions surging in me, when my eyes landed on a woman, hovering toward the aisle. Her movements were too elegant yet too hasty to have missed.

But that wasn't why I noticed her. There was something awfully familiar about her that reminded me of someone I'd known in the past. I keenly watched her sit by the bride's aisle beside a boy I'd seen talking to Jordan once.

Thinking that Jordan might know, I leaned toward him and asked, "Who's that woman in the front of Aubrey's aisle?"

"The one in the maroon dress?" Seeing me nod, he answered, "That is Aubrey's best friend. Joyce."

My jaw tightened at the realization: I knew her. I fucking knew her. Those curious, devilishly alluring eyes, I recalled-green with flecks of gold. They were the best pair of eyes I'd ever seen. I didn't know her as Joyce.

I remembered her as the woman who lived up to the name she had introduced herself with-Joy.

VINCE

I couldn't help but curse myself when I rewound all the memories I had of her at the back of my mind. Joy was the only woman I'd regretted not getting to know. And that was all because of a stupid agreement. She was exquisite, both her nature and her body. That body-I wanted to devour her back then. And feeling the blood rushing in my veins at the sight of her now, that ravaging hunger hadn't dived down.

I'd always wondered if she'd picked a fake name for herself. Little did I realize that she was too similar to me than I could've thought. When I'd introduced myself as Vince, she had done as Joy, both being the shortened versions of our names.

"What's her full name?"

"Joyce Gale," Jordan quickly answered.

Joyce Gale... I sighed, folding my arms over my chest. For a year after I'd last seen her, I'd thought only of her, wishing if I could reverse time and get to know her better. But that was all a long time ago. I had moved on from her...or so I thought.

"Man no," Jordan uttered, pulling my attention toward him. "She's not your type."

Funny, I thought. I had said the exact same thing to myself many moons back when I'd first touched her skin-so smooth, buttery and very much breakable. My cock twitched and I groaned. The last thing I wanted was a hard-on in the middle of a wedding, which wasn't the only effect she'd had on me.

"She doesn't even look at guys in that manner." Jordan continued, "She once said to me that she'd rather marry a skunk than date men like us."

"Men like us?" I knitted his brows together, disturbed. What the fuck did that mean? That did not sound like the girl I knew or had known.

Jordan shrugged, giving a sly smile. "Arrogant. Way too rich. Flirtatious. Promiscuous. Narcissistic."

"Are you intentionally picking on me, Jordy?"

"That's what I'd asked her back," Jordan huffed his reply, making me roll my eyes. "But she was true to some extent."

I took a deep breath and went for it. "Do you remember the girl I told you about, the one I met in Paris?"

Jordan was about to nod but then paused, his eyes narrowing at Joyce before being back at me with shock painted on his face. Even Jordan knew about the mysterious woman that had me, of all people, swooning over her.

"I think that's her." I shook my head and corrected myself, "No, I am sure that's her."

Jordan's wanted to speak but his words were cut out as the music played louder, indicating the bride's arrival. I exchanged a small nod with my best friend before turning back to the event.

The moment Aubrey began walking down the aisle, everyone stood up but I twisted my head to see Jordan's expression. His eyes were rounded and filled with so much affection and desire. Both the bride and groom refused to lose their eye contact as if they were talking to each other via an invisible string.

What was shocking about the entire thing was the aged man beside Aubrey. Jordan and I remembered him clearly. One, because it was Bill, Aubrey's father and two, we had gone to his house a week ago, requesting him to make amends with his daughter, which, at that time, he had blatantly refused.

But no matter how much I tried to focus on the ceremonies, my attention kept drifting to where Joy was seated. All I could fucking think of was Joyce Gale: her emerald eyes and her lavender scent. I'd craved her scent. Her scent. Neither a girl nor a perfume could match up to that extremely soothing odour she had that melted me whenever I was close to her.

Does she remember me? I stared at her, unable to steer my gaze away.

With a sudden flick of her eyes, Joy looked at me (surely to me gawking) and a smirk took over my lips, knowingly. Cocky bastard! She stared at me for a while, roving her eyes up and down but then she frowned and looked away.

Throughout all the ceremonies all I could do was stare like a fucking idiot. I was waiting for a golden chance to talk to Joy, maybe start from where we had left off five years ago. And finally, the chance came. By the end of the dance, she was just a few feet away from me yet even with so much distance, my heart raced.

Joy had long hair now, which cascaded down to her hips. I'd never thought she would grow her hair as she had made it-her disgrace for long waves and how it was disastrous to manage-very clear to me. I noticed her curves as I moved a little closer. She had gotten...voluptuous now, which was so much sexier.

The light cold wind was making her shudder as she stood at the altar in her off-shoulder gown.

It was finally time for me to go forth with my plans of reconciliation.

***

JOY

I hurried to the altar, only to find Aubrey's cousin, Carter, sitting in the front row. He had a grin glued to his face as he saw me walk toward him.

"You look dashing as always."

I nodded. "I know."

On the adjacent aisle Joanne, Jordan's sister, was seated and she flashed a welcoming smile the moment our eyes met.

"Hey!" Slightly nodding at her husband, I turned back to her. "Your dress is marvellous."

"Oh, don't be so modest." Joanne chuckled. "This dress is the only attractive dress in my closet that didn't scream pregnant."

"If anybody can flaunt being pregnant it's you." Joanne only laughed, shaking her head at my compliment.

Sounds of soft music playing, children giggling, people gossiping and everything around me was making me a little anxious. I was never very good at weddings, which was why I had to convince Aubrey to not make me a bridesmaid. I knew it unsettled her but she understood. She fucking understood me.

The moment Aubrey walked in with her hand around her father's arm, everyone stood up. He guided her down the aisle just like I'd imagined. Mr Evans was a great father before...but sometimes, realities change people. He handed Aubrey over to the tall, muscular figure at the centre of the stage, nodding to her. Jordan had his dark hair gelled to perfection and a huge smile glued to his lips while his eyes refused to move from Aubrey's. He extended a hand and she accepted.

The couple looked astounding standing in the middle of the huge stage decorated with wreaths of green foliages and white and pink flowers, white net curtains draped between the pillars of the stage. They held their hands and took their vows together, vows that bonded their souls for eternity.

Staring into each other's eyes and promising to stay by each other's side was indeed a very intimate moment, a huge commitment that I'd avoided. Knowing that from then on everything you'd do is for your other half was exquisite. But at the same time, nothing frightened me more than the vulnerability that came with it.

My entire attention was stuck at the lovely couple's holy matrimony until my gaze shifted to the man standing behind Jordan. He wore a blue tuxedo and had a very well-built structure. His undercut hair was flipped back and his brows pressed together while he kept staring at me. He looked devilishly attractive, no doubt. But there was also something about him, about his gaze that gave me shivers down my spine. Why did he look so familiar?

I forcefully shifted my attention back to the main attraction of the event. After the bride and groom's passionate kiss, they headed for the reception table.

During the different ceremonies, I knew deep down that the man in the blue tux was staring at me. The staring part was okay until it wasn't. It was starting to vex me. I tried to avoid him but the intensity of his stare was impossible to ignore with every passing second.

At the reception party, I stood by the altar with Joanne with her twins running around the altar, racing after one another.

"Sometimes, I dread bringing another child into my life when two monsters are already eating my head." Joanne sighed, sipping from her glass of orange juice.

"Seeing you dread it, I dread it," I said, shrugging my head.

She shook her head. "It's not like I hate it. There are times when I wished I could have some time for myself which seems like a dream now, to be honest. The times I'm not taking care of them, I'm freelancing. I can't take care of myself the way I used to. I can't even talk to Harper about this. He works his ass off to keep up with the business."

"Sounds suffocating." I looked at Joanne from my peripheral vision, my brows pressed together.

"It is." She exhaled. "But on the plus side, I love them. The moment these kids hug me or call me Mom, it feels...I don't know how to explain this. It's one of those things in the world that has no rational explanation."

I wished if all mother's thought the same. My mother didn't, which was why she'd left me and Mason to our dad and had run off with some random college guy.

"You do an exceptional job at handling things. Harper and your kids are lucky to have you." I smiled at her before looking back at her kids who were now running toward the six-tiered wedding cake. "Oh shoot!"

"Oh, no...No!" Joanne ran after them, yelling.

I burst into a fit of laughter, watching her pull one of the twins by the ears while the other scampered off into the house. God, I couldn't even imagine the things those devils put her through.

"It's been a long time..."

A hoarse voice reached my ears and I whipped around in my heels to glance. My breath hitched in my throat. It was the man in the blue tuxedo standing behind me with a more familiar-ish grin tugging his lips.

His silvery eyes were stuck on me and he said in a rather soft voice, "Joy."

On close encounter, I felt my entire world crumble as I recognized the deadly beauty.

Vince?

[FIVE YEARS AGO]

VINCE

I was eager to get out of the office doors, the white walls and the cream marble floors stinging my eyes. So, when my childhood friend offered to take me up for some drinks, I couldn't say no.

"Man, you have no fucking idea what you've just saved me from," I said as we walked past the massive line outside the club.

"Humour me." Cole ran a hand through his coffee-coloured hair. "On second thoughts, please don't. Your job is the very reason why I ran from home."

"Not everyone's as lucky as you. I had no option," I huffed.

Cole shook his head, raising a brow at me. "That's where you're wrong, bro. You did have a choice. It's your fault you didn't take it. You were too busy mending what you're mother had broken off."

I knew damn well that Cole was right. There's always an option. But if someone was as practical as me they'd know, no matter which option one chooses, someone gets hurt.

The streets of Paris had something about them that I couldn't understand. I wanted to know why this place was called the city of love, not that I believed in such nonsense. It was to feed my curious mind, I believed.

Exchanging some small talks with the bouncer, we both walked in. The club was cosy with a small dance floor on one side and a sitting area on the other. The lights were dim but even through it, I could make up almost every face in the room.

"You seem to know these people quite well," I yelled, trying to reach over the sound of the loud music.

Cole smiled at the bartenders and nodded. "This is where I landed my first job. I had low cash on me. No bungalow to crash in. Turns out the school we studied in had rich idiots like me, minus the brain and self-esteem."

"Really? I asked you to stay at my place."

"And I said no because your uncle knows my dad"-I pushed my palms out in defeat and Cole smiled-"besides, this place needed bartenders and came with a package of free food and stay."

"Things were tough, I assume."

"I underestimated the pressure." Cole began laughing, watching me give my favourite I-warned-you nod. "Yes, you get the satisfaction of saying I told you so."

Cole pointed at the sitting area and I followed him, looking around. Plopping down on the round couch, I exhaled a heavy sigh. The dance floor was full of drunkards dancing their butts off. Many women sitting at the bar were staring at us...something that wasn't new to either of us.

"Just like college, isn't it?" He laughed. "No wonder we had big egos."

"And big dicks to add to that." My attention trailed off as my eyes paused at the blonde by the bar.

She was sitting with her friend, laughing and ran a hand through her curved short hair that fell on her shoulders. Her red body-con dress hugged her body in all the right places. Something about her was luring me toward her. Maybe it was the way she was laughing or perhaps, the way she was ignoring all the advancements and lusty stares toward her.

"Bonjour!"

A shrill voice said, making us look. Standing before us were two brunettes. The taller one wore a tight mini dress, tight especially around her bust while the other was in a knee-length dress and seemed a little shy.

"Voulez-vous prendre un verre avec nous?"

(Would you like to have a drink with us?)

I glanced at Cole who nodded back with pleading eyes. Turning back to the girls, he said, "Pourquoi pas? Asseyez-vous."

(Why not? Have a seat.)

"Êtes-vous américain?" the taller one asked.

(Are you American?)

They looked barely over twenty, which if I hadn't used fake IDs myself, I wouldn't have guessed. But they surely weren't old enough.

"Non, je suis américain. Mon ami est britannique," Cole said.

(No. I'm American. My friend is British.)

Cole leaned toward me and murmured, "Do you think they have a kink? Like for American men or something?"

"Have you watched Hostel?"

Cole's mouth pressed into a fine line and he gave me a judgemental glare before turning back to the girls.

"Attendez. Quel âge avez-vous les filles?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at them to which Cole stomped on my boot. I shrieked, "What the fuck was that for?"

(Wait. How old are you girls?)

"For being an arse!" Cole whisper shouted while the girls stared at me, uncomfortably. "Look man, I haven't slept with anyone in months. Don't ruin that chance for me."

I rolled my eyes. "Can't you see? These are kids and I don't do kids."

"Nous avons vingt," The same girl added, smiling. At this point I was sure the other girl wasn't just shy, she was bloody mute. "I'm Jessica."

(We are twenty.)

"Cole," Cole quickly added, shaking his hand with her.

"I'm Sonia," the other girl finally said, staring at me from top to bottom as if she was planning something sinistrous. Not so shy after all. This was how the girls-the ones I usually kicked out of my house after a one-night stand-looked at me.

"Whatever." I stood up, shaking my head. "I'm out of here."

"Why?" Cole asked, his blue eyes filling with doubt. "Fine, go! At least don't go back to your hotel. I might take one of these fine ladies there...or maybe two."

"Why my hotel?"

"Bigger space, Vi, bigger space. My living accommodations aren't as luxurious as they used to be," Cole cooed and I mentally groaned before walking toward the bar.

I had no intention of staying anymore yet I couldn't stop from nearing her, the blonde who'd had all my attention since the moment I stepped into this club. My preference for blondes was known between my friend circle and I couldn't even deny it.

I stood behind her and watched. She was sipping the drink in her hand with her friend nowhere in sight. But she seemed to enjoy herself either way.

I knew this was the perfect opportunity to introduce myself to her.

***

JOY

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" Julia's voice pulled my attention toward her. I had been zoning out since the last twenty minutes of our conversation and when caught, I just nodded. But this time, Julia asked, "Are you, in any way, worried about the company inheritance?"

I couldn't lie now. Julia knew me better than that. She was Dad's assistant and giving her intuitions way was only going to prove a problem for me though.

I shook my head, raking my hand through my hair. "I'm just worried about the project. It seemed too easy. Development projects are based on trust, Julia, and Dad seemed to have hurried on his decision to work with this set of investors."

"I tried to talk to Mr Gale but he just seemed off. I don't know what's wrong with him." She sighed. "With the rising competitors, he fears staying behind. But yes, I agree with you. These investors seemed shady as fuck. I mean, who offers billions of dollars for a project this small."

"We will not be taking any more amount than the one written in our contract."

I could hear the enthusiasm building in my own voice but I knew it was not real. I worried about Dad's company and Dad, of course. But I was more worried about my dreams that were drifting away because I was too busy pleasing Dad.

"We won't." Julia nodded and looked at her golden-coloured wristwatch. "Shit, I'm getting late."

"Where are you going?"

She got down the barstool and adjusted her dress over her knees. "I have a meeting."

"Meeting?" I frowned. I had thought all the meetings for the project were over and I could at least rest a day before I left back for New York. "Am I not supposed to accompany you?"

Julia shook her head. "It's more of a personal...meeting."

By the smile on her lips, I could understand what she meant and nodded. "Then, I'll see you back at the hotel. Have a nice night." I grinned.

Her cheeks turned red and she said, "Thank you. Tomorrow we'll go for a tour. I know some great places." Pressing her hand on my shoulder, she hovered up the stairs and out of the bar.

I felt a lot lighter with Julia gone. I didn't particularly hate her presence or her efforts at pleasing me but the fact that she reported everything back to Dad, claiming it was for my sake, disturbed me. Dad was already upset at me for sending my resumes to the publishing houses. On top of that, he was beyond pissed at my brother, Mason, for sneaking out of our home to pursue his passion as a travel journalist, which according to Dad was a waste of valuable time.

Seeing the glass in my hand empty, I ordered another. My muscles were already loosening and the sound of the bass was making my head throb.

"Les Ville de l'amour," a raspy voice called from behind.

I turned to glance, coming to face the brawny man with hair dark as anthracite and aluminium eyes that had me going speechless almost instantly. I didn't know an eye colour like that existed and he, most certainly, had the most beautiful pair I'd seen. He had a clean shaved face, his jaw sharp and nose pointed.

He was the man with the grand entrance, I remembered. People looked at him as if he was a big shot, maybe because of his God-like looks. I couldn't help but laugh at them at that time but now seeing him up this close, I could get what all the fuss was about.

"Beg your pardon?" For the first time, I was embarrassed at my negligence over brushing my lingual skills.

"The city of love," He said. What brings you here to this big city alone?"

His British accent was very appealing but it also reminded me of someone who used to be very close to me...someone who'd only given me painful memories to bear. I shook my head, trying not to let the befoul thoughts of my past ruin my mood.

"Who says I'm alone?" I asked, yelling back at him, my voice barely audible over the booming sound of the bass.

"I saw your friend leave a few minutes ago." He smirked, his tone confident.

"Quite observant, aren't you?" I mocked, suspiciously raising a brow at him before gulping the remaining drink and slamming the empty glass on the bar. I was way too drunk to be warming up to a hot stranger like him. "I better get going."

I was ready to leave and handed my credit card to the bartender. The loud music with the insane beat hadn't bothered me all this time as much as this man's presence was. He was insanely handsome not to mention those silvery eyes and the mischievous smirk on his lips. He even had perfect, kissable lips.

"Well, I'm alone too. My friend got a tad busy." He shot an embarrassing glance, pointing at the sitting area.

I twisted my head toward a guy by the corner lounge, laughing and charming his way with two girls. Even his friend was handsome, like some sort of movie actor. Both of them. Who on earth were these people?

"Gross," I snorted. "I don't think you want anything less than what he does..." I smacked myself at the back of my mind, realizing I was yet again talking to myself.

Since childhood, I'd had this weird habit of speaking to myself whenever I was excited, sad or anxious, which she was all the time. Some people got annoyed and some even thought that it was creepy but...who the fuck cared?

I sighed. "Well, you can be a trafficker, a kidnapper"-I pouted-"or a murderer."

His jaw twitching and eyes widening and I couldn't help but hold my laughter that was almost at the tip of my throat.

"Bollocks, I need to add these adjectives to my vocabulary too." He laughed it off. "You better run for the hills right now, miss."

Everything about him was perfect-his aura and presence along with his accent, his physique that looked as if he were straight out of the television commercial, and his grey eyes that were beyond compare. All of these made him look unreal. Even his lips were pink and firm. I couldn't stop imagining what his lips would feel against mine.

Am I that drunk? I asked myself. But, hey, a girl can fantasize, right?

But I reminded myself: men like him only looked good from a distance.

"Well. You are way too handsome to be real."

He smirked. "Does it bother you?"

It bothered me in ways I couldn't explain and he had no idea to what extent. I didn't intend on staying. I had to run before it was too late but my mind had eventually stopped working and before I knew it, I voiced, "Well, if you're not a kidnapper and since I am leaving in two days, I guess I can stay."

"So what's your name?"

"I don't give my name to strangers." It was definitely the alcohol talking, not me.

"Is that so?" I bobbed my head to which he puckered his face. "Then let's go past the stage of strangers."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I've got a better idea. Let's remain strangers and see where the night takes us."

He remained quiet for a while, furrowing his brows while his gaze shuffled between me and his friend sitting by the lounges. Then he finally added, "It is fine by me."

"Then pick a name. Any name."

"Vince," he said as quickly as the words left my mouth.

"Vince..." I repeated after him. I couldn't tell if it was his real name or not but it sounded melodious on my lips. I gulped. "That's a nice name. I'm Joy."

"Your name suits you."

"It's the emotion I've been feeling today."

"I believe that."

"You do?" I raised a brow to which he smiled.

"It's just the smile you're giving."

"What about it?"

There was a change in his expressions and his gaze softened toward me. He leaned into my ears, my entire body stiffening with it. He whispered, "Well, that is what brought me here...to you."