Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Zonnique
Isat at the bar, my heels elegantly crossed at the ankle, but discomfort crept in. A persistent headache throbbed behind my eyes, growing more pronounced with each passing moment.
By the time I reached my fourth drink, the music had started sounding muffled, and by the sixth, I was questioning every life decision that had led me to that very seat.
Maybe I should’ve just left the situation alone.
Maybe I should’ve accepted that Merge didn’t care for me enough to build a future with me and kept it moving instead of trying to become useful enough to stay relevant in his life.
And if things keep going left, hell, I probably won’t even get to see whatever generous “I’ll take care of you if everything goes smoothly” reward he vaguely hinted at after the baby is born healthy if the pregnancy makes it through without complications.
“Ain’t this some bullshit,” I muttered under my breath as I tossed back the last remnants of my drink, the bittersweet taste lingering on my tongue.
The bartender slid another cocktail my way without missing a beat.
I took a sip and immediately frowned.
“This shit is weak as hell,” I complained, scrunching my nose in distaste. “Did the alcohol simply wave at the cup before leaving?”
A deep, smooth voice from beside me rumbled with quiet laughter, pulling my attention away from my drink.
“I think the lady asked for a real drink,” he said, a hint of charm woven into his words.
I barely looked over at first.
Men flirted with me all the time. Their approaches were more obnoxious than endearing, often revealing themselves to be either annoying, broke, or both.
But when I noticed the bartender stiffen, her demeanor shifting from casual to urgent as she grabbed a different bottle without hesitation, my interest piqued.
My attention shifted fast.
"Yes, sir,” the bartender replied quickly, her tone full of deference. “My apologies.”
As she remade my drink, I couldn’t help but notice the difference in presentation. The new concoction looked far more potent and promising.
I slowly turned my head toward the man beside me, taking him in properly.
He stood tall, his dark skin smooth beneath the soft lighting, carrying himself with the kind of relaxed confidence that didn’t need an introduction.
And fine? Whew. Very fine, might I add.
A neatly shaped beard sharpened his already handsome features, while an expensive watch gleamed around his wrist. Everything about him looked polished, from the way he was dressed to the calm authority he carried so naturally.
He didn’t just look like he had money; he looked like he was used to getting whatever he wanted.
I arched an eyebrow ever so slightly, impressed. “With that kind of authority, I’d think you were the boss or something,” I remarked, curiosity lacing my tone.
A smirk danced on his lips, hinting at amusement.
“I am.” That answer came way too smoothly. “Actually,” he added, his deep voice flowing like warm honey, “I own quite a few bars.”
Oh.
Well, hello, healing journey.
Sitting a little straighter, a smile began to blossom within me, fueled by the prospect of a fresh start.
“I’d like to take you to all of them eventually,” he continued, eyes lingering on me. “Not all in one night though. I prefer taking my time with beautiful women.”
Inside, I screamed.
Yessssssss.
A fine man with money, manners, and the emotional capacity to show affection without acting like somebody might revoke his masculinity.
Lord, I’ve watched you bless other women long enough, and right now, it feels like my own moment of redemption. If this is finally my turn, I promise not to fumble it… well, not immediately.
I held my hand out toward him. “The name’s Zonnique, and I’d be more than happy to take you up on that offer.”
He took my hand gently, then lowered his mouth to my knuckles and kissed them in a slow, deliberate gesture that made me blush like a little schoolgirl.
“Malachai Laurent,” he introduced himself, the melodic lilt of his accent wrapping around the words like a soft embrace. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh… the pleasure is all mine.”
My heart couldn’t stop fluttering, and I could barely contain my smile.
If Mr. Malachai plays his cards right, he might just become the distraction I need from this exhausting chapter of humiliating myself for a man who never planned on choosing me completely.