Chapter 16: Mine

Jaxon's POV:

I just lay off on the plush couch, nursing a glass of scotch to my lips, while staring at the bustling club.

What I needed right now was rest. Not this— lively party, my Best friend Paul had literally dragged me from home, few hours after I escaped the pile of work Reene had dumped into my office.

The dimly lit club pulsed with the rhythmic beat of electronic music.

The air was pungent with the stench of sweat, perfume mixed together.

My stomache churned loudly.

“Come on Jax.” Paul yelled over the noise, giving me a playful punch in the shoulder.

“What's wrong with you?”

“What?” I asked, looking up at him, while taking another sip from my glass.

“That's the fourth chick you've turned down tonight.” He slumped into the couch beside me.

I nodded absentmindedly.

His hazel eyes barely distinguishable in the dim light flashed at me. Studying me closely.

I shrugged, stretched over the table to grab the bottle across it.

“Guess, I'm just tired.” I said, chugging down the drink.

The liquid slushed recklessly out of the glass, some trickling down my chin and leaving a wet patch on my jacket.

I groaned.

Paul snorted, cupping his hand to his mouth and lit up a cigarette stick.

“Well, then.” He stood up, puffing the cigarette fume into the already densed atmosphere of the club. “I'm going to have some fun.”

I nodded, tipped my glass at him. Then drained it in one gulp. I lay smugly on the couch watching his figure disappear into the crowd of bodies.

I closed my eyes.

Laura Jacobs.

The name crept into my mind. Her contract file flashed through my memory.

That girl was a hard one.

I admired her conviction, even when fighting a losing case. She was so determined.

I smiled at the thought of seeing her flushed face in the court hall. Petrified, almost frozen.

But why would she want to terminate the contract?

I opened my eyes.

If I knew that, I wouldn't probably be sitting here anyway.

She was like a little pretty vase—beautiful, Patched-up but there was a dent somewhere. A chip in the gap, she was trying to hide behind that mask she wore everyday.

Infact that was what made her mysterious.

What attracted me.

I stared into the densed crowd. A couple had taken the limelight on the dance floor.

Everyone else made way for them. Looking at them.

Some even stopped dancing.

I reached for the bottle and swung directly from it. While entertaining myself with the energetic dance the couple were putting on.

The woman, had her long curly black hair cascading down her back and dancing…sorry scratch that. She was gyrating on the dancefloor giving her companion the the best dance he'd ever had all his life.

I couldn't help drooling.

She moved swiftly, twisting her waist, head— everywhere.

And my eyes were following suit. Every move she made. I watched, forgetting to breathe. There was something familiar about her but I just couldn't place my finger on it.

I drooled even more as she bent over and did something dreamy with her hips. Her long hair swaying gracefully behind her. Her companion could barely keep up.

She was rolling into him.

Throwing herself at him.

Rocking his body.

Twerking her ass over his crotch.

I whistled softly. Took another gulp from my bottle. There was something captivating and provocative in the way she danced, a defianced that flowed with the silky movement of her body. I felt my heart skip, the adrenaline rushing up to my face.

And for the first time that night, I totally didn't regret Paul dragging me down here.

A laser beam light fell on her face, illuminating the dusky gold of her skin.

My jaw dropped as I released a soft gasp.

Wasn't that...

Wasn't that…

“Laura.” The name slipped out of my mouth. I jumped on with a start. I felt a judge of jealousy surge through me.

“Laura.” I repeated again, tearing into the crowd.

What was she doing here?

I took two firm strides, crossed the reserved area I was in. Pushed a man out of the way. My heart thumping hard in it's cage.

What was Laura doing out here?

And drunk?

Why was the ice-cold queen dancing like she had no care in the world?

Did she act only cold when it came to me?

The questions came pouring rapidly into my mind as I matched through the crowd. Something feral was stirring inside me as I watched them dancing together. I clenched my fist and forcefully tore two couples apart and reached the dancefloor in three quick strides.

I halted in my tracks abruptly.

“What. The. Fuck.” I cursed loudly. My face contorting with rage as I watched.

The man's lips were on hers, eating her up.

Owning her up— I clenched my fist shaking with rage.

How. Dare. He.

My face darkened.

How could he he kiss her…

When she was mine…

Sorry, I mean— When she was signed to my label.

Anyway, everyone under me was mine.

This wasn't good publicity for her.

I reached out, and grabbed her by the hand and pulled her off, yanking her to my side and disrupting their stupid intimacy.

She fell limply into my arms. Her floral perfume wavering into my nostrils reaching the part of me, my therapist had try so hard to repair— my heart.

I glared daggers at the young man, my fist itching to grease his jaw, and disfigured that face of his.

She stirred in my arms.

“Laura, are you okay?” I asked, bending over her. She moaned softly — probably too drunk to even realize what was going on. I leaned closer, so I could see her face properly.

That's when it happened, her body swayed precariously and she leaned forward— her mouth opened. I reacted instantly and attempted to back away.

But the puke spluttered out of her mouth in an arc, latching straight on my Louis Vuitton Jacket.

“Ah, no.” I muttered, my eyes widening in horror. She retched again.

I gritted my teeth in anger but looking at her disheveled state— the anger rising in me faded away.

Why didn't she puke on that guy? Why me?

I glared at the man like he was the cause of my misfortune.

Of course he was.

And that even made me want to punch him even more and disfigure some dental structures.

Damn him.

I glared at Laura, the flora scent had long been lost in the terrible stench of the puke.

Even more embarrassing than the stench.

The whole club was gaping at us. Everyone.

Congratulations, Laura.

I looked at her figure, slumped on the floor, Her face was so white and pale under the dim light.

I slid off my jacket and tossed it on the floor. Then reached for her limp body, picking up from the floor.

Then slowly sauntered out through the club, with a thousand gazes staring at me.

“Oh, boy.” Paul whistled as he helped me open the car door. “You've really got your hands full now.”

He winked at me.

I didn't have the time to bicker nonsense with him. I gently lowered her into the backseat. She groaned gently.

I turned around and hopped behind the wheel. Leaning against the headrest, I took a deep breath and rubbed my face.

What was I going to do with her.

I could drop her off in a hotel and pay for her lodging but then I glanced at her, and all that thought evaporated

Her eyes were closed, her breathing even and shallow, but even in sleep,she looked troubled. This lady who always appeared fierce on the dance floor looked so vulnerable now.

I told myself she would not be safe in a hotel, especially in her current state.

So I had to take her home.

Resigned, I guided my car into my Penthouse building’s garage, parked in an empty spot and warily approached the passenger seat. Holding my breath.

I cleaned her as much as I could with an extra towel I kept in my car, then picked her up in my arms.

Damn. She stank to high heaven.

As soon as I keyed in the code to my apartment,

I carried her through the lobby, and the concierge pressed the elevator

doors for me since my hands were full.

I took her straight to the guest bedroom. She whimpered when I gently laid her on the bed.

“Ria,” she sobbed.

Who was Ria?

I hesitated beside the bed.

Why not change her clothe and clean her up properly?

But if she found out, I changed her up— she'd probably cut off my arms or give me a black eye.

I better not take that risk.

Her breathing eventually evened out. I don't know how long I stood there staring at her— watching her sleep.