Chapter 224 Please don’t fuck

Chapter 224 Please don’t fuck
♡Leila♡

A slow, smoky jazz melody drifted through the hall, heavy with temptation and warning.

José’s hand tightened around my waist as the music slowed, his fingers digging in like I belonged to him.

I forced a smile and lifted my chin, even though inside, I was already screaming.

This man had zero respect.

It felt like being stuck in some crowded club, with a stranger thinking he had the right to touch me however he wanted—except this time, there was no June or Kayla rushing in to pull me away.

No one was coming.

It was just me.

And worst of all, I had technically agreed to this.

“Are you enjoying your dance?” he murmured, his deep voice brushing against my ear.

I let out a quiet breath, feeling his hand slide lower.

Fuck this.

Before I could overthink it, I deliberately misstepped and crushed my heel down on his foot.

Hard.

“Fuck—” he groaned, jerking back and finally letting go of me.

I widened my eyes instantly. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I said, putting on my most innocent voice. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

He raised his hand quickly, his face tight with pain. “It’s fine,” he muttered. “Let’s continue.”

Right.

“Of course,” I replied sweetly.

I took his hand and placed it firmly back on my upper waist—higher this time—my smile carrying a silent warning.

Touch me anywhere else and I’ll break something.

We started moving again.

That’s when I noticed he wasn’t even looking at me.

His eyes were fixed somewhere ahead.

Where Cain and Mary were supposed to be.

I almost scoffed.

So that’s it. He didn’t want anyone near his precious fiancée.

“Has my beauty faded already,” I asked lightly, “that you don’t even want to look at me?”

That got his attention.

His lips twitched. “Oh no, belle,” he replied slowly. “I haven’t even seen your face yet.”

Then he leaned in, pulling me closer, his voice brushing my ear.

“I want to do more than dance with you, princess.”

My jaw clenched.

Princess?

Why the hell was he calling me that?

It sounded wrong on his lips.

It sounded… better when Cain said it.

Annoyance flared through me.

My hand slipped from his shoulder, drifting dangerously close to my thigh, where my little “toy” was hidden.

For a second, I considered it.

Just for a second.

But no.

This wasn’t that kind of danger. Not yet.

I gently pushed him back, forcing a bright, polite smile.

“I need to go to the restroom,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for his response, I glanced around.

The dance floor was crowded.

But I didn’t see Cain or the precious beautiful fiancée Mary.

I didn’t see Xavi. I didn’t even see any of our men around.

My chest tightened.

Where were they?

I suddenly felt very small in this huge, glittering room.

I needed a restroom. I needed air.

And I definitely wasn’t going to ask this son of a gun for directions. I was on my own. Completely alone.

I wandered down the empty hallway, heels clicking softly against the polished floor, peering at every door like it might suddenly announce itself.

Restroom. Restroom. Please be a restroom, but every door looked exactly the same.

There was no signs or arrows. No help.

“Who designs something this beautiful and forgets the most basic instructions?” I muttered under my breath.

I took another step, but stopped as I felt that strange awareness like someone was behind me.

I turned quickly.

Nothing. There was no one.

The hallway was empty.

My heart skipped. I was sure I had heard footsteps.

Was it José?

Did he follow me? Or worse… one of Cain’s rivals?

My hand slid down instinctively to my thigh, fingers brushing against the hidden gun strap.

I swallowed hard.

Could I even use this thing if I had to?

Would I freeze?

Would my hands shake too much?

I didn’t want to find out, so fighting wasn’t an option.

Hiding was.

Without thinking, I hurried to the nearest door, slipped inside, and locked it behind me.

Click.

Only then did I breathe.

My chest rose and fell rapidly, my bladder screaming in protest.

I scanned the room, and found the bathroom.

Thank God.

I rushed in and finally relieved myself, letting out a shaky sigh as the tension drained from my body.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, staring at the wall.

Okay.
Think, Leila.

My phone was in my purse, and my purse was with Xavi.

Which meant—

Shit. There was no way to call Cain.

Perfect.

After washing up, I straightened my dress and moved toward the door.

Just as my hand reached for the handle—

It opened.

My heart nearly stopped.

I stumbled back instinctively and shut the bathroom door quietly, pressing my back against it.

Thump.
Thump.
Thump.

That was my heart beating too loud.

I reached for the gun, my fingers trembling as I pulled it free.

Okay. It was the plan. I shoot the leg, then run, and find Cain. And I survive the night.

Yes. That was the plan.

I tightened my grip.

Then—

Voices.

“Oh, Cain,” a woman purred, her voice dripping with sweetness. “I know you thought about me all week…”

My ears sharpened.

That wasn’t Tracy. That was— Mary.

José’s fiancée.

My stomach dropped.

“Oh yeah,” Cain replied, his voice unmistakable. “Did you think of me too? Is that why you showed up tonight? José’s going to scold you.”

I froze.

Relief and hurt crashed into me at the same time.

Relief—because it was Cain.
Because I wasn’t about to be attacked.

But hurt…

God.

It burned.

I thought this party was about Tobias. About finding the man in that photo, and finding answers to Tobias’s killer.

So why was he flirting?

Why was he playing around?

Hadn’t I risked myself to come here?

Didn’t this matter to him at all?

“Does it misses me?” Cain added lightly.

My stomach twisted. I felt sick, like I might actually throw up.

I pressed my hand over my mouth, forcing it back down.

No.

They couldn’t know I was here.

“You know my body misses you so much,” Mary purred softly. “My cunt wants you buried inside it.”

The words hit me like a slap.

Then came the sound of kisses.

Wet, slow and intimate.

My chest tightened.

“Well,” Cain’s voice followed, low and rough, “I shouldn’t waste time.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

My fingers clenched painfully around the gun in my hand.

Please don’t.

Please don’t fuck.

Please don’t fuck.

I begged silently, over and over, like a prayer.

My heart was pounding so hard I was sure they could hear it through the walls.

I pressed my forehead against the door, breathing shallowly, afraid that even the smallest sound from me would give me away.

God.

Why did this hurt so much?