Dia: A Lover's Revenge

Alex and Zoe?

     2 Weeks later.  The Dance Studio. 

      "Tell me about this Waltz. Not very much of a reader."

    Max's well-chizeled face melted into a sheepish smile. He had Dia in his arms in a dancing position. The both of them were in the middle of the dance studio. There was no background music, they seemed to be doing it to Dia's rhythm. Max seemed to be getting better with it. The practice had been on since few days. 

   "The name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, meaning to turn or to glide. It is thought to have developed either from the folk music and associated dances of rural west Austria, in the Tyrol region, or from an earlier dance, the volta, from the 16th century."

      Dia explained, repaying back a light smile. She was beautiful, and Max was beginning to be smothered by both her aura and elegance. 

     "Any other thing I should know?"

    Max went forward with the left foot, his expensive black leather shoe tracing the smooth dancefloor. Dia went back with right foot to match the sway, and both made a perfect move. They were going the second round. 

    Dia was impressed by how quickly Max was learning the steps. She complimented,

    "Impressive. Not quite bad for a 4-day old student."

    He chuckled at that. The warm breath pushed out of the nostrils swept across her face. A vital organ in her responded to the call. That wasn't the plan, she thought. 

     He slid with the right foot and closed the left foot to the right intermittently, while she slid with left foot and closed the right foot to the left. She continued,

      "Well at first 'twas initially decried by older generations of the aristocracy and religious leaders as an obscene and immoral dance, due to the proximity of the dancers."

     He frowned at that, his smooth face stiffening to the reaction. He shot,

     "The aristocrats must have been some psycho to had ruled out this pleasant dance in such note."

     His hold on her was firm as he went back with right foot and left with the left, while she took her turn in reversal of his. She was almost forgetting that twas meant to be a plot. She shouldn't fall for him. 

    She remembered he had said a thing and responded immediately before stirring suspicion,

      "Somehow. It was firstly a peasant dance before it was introduced to the Royal courts, turning dances had been popular among peasants in Bavaria and other parts of Germany for decades, who were less constrained by the strict rules of etiquette adhered to by the upper classes."

       "Oh religious psycho."

    He muttered as he went side with the left foot and closed the right to the left foot, while she, roughening her simple wine gown, went side with the right foot and closed the left foot to the right. 

    That seemed to be the end of the second round. But his stare on her face was becoming mushy, she could feel it on her the way his soft and gentle billionaire palm ran down her back to the rise of her butt. 

    She was meant to play along. Yes! She would. 

    "You seem to like the word, 'psycho', or to say, do you hate them?"

     She teased. They were going for the third round. He hadn't persisted because he was bent on wanting to learn the dance, but because he was enjoying her company. He seemed to want to hold her like that forever, if possible. 

    He was beginning to feel a surge he had never felt even when he was on Alexa. Hot and demanding. 

    If he could feel this way only dancing with Dia, how would he feel if he was riding her in one of the softest cushion he could ever think of. He was glad that Alexa couldn't make it that day. He didn't really love Alexa. Twas a business marriage. Such marriage you hold between business partners for the growth of the company. Call it a contract marriage. 

     He snapped back to reality. 

    "I think the term is subjective. But I would respect not having anything to do with a pyscho."

   He pointed out. She smiled, she was sure that he had no faintest who he was holding in his hands and flirting with. 

   "How about if I'm a psycho, would you quit coming for classes?"

    She took the risk. She didn't know what she was thinking. She could feel two forces contending over her choice. One wanted her to submit to Max, like genuinely, which wasn't part of the plan. The other force, which feigned to be the strongest, wanted her to ruin Max in love. 

     She only wasn't left to herself. She watched him say,

     "I'll let it pass. Always an exception for the teacher. Like you would make for an annoying principal."

     His gaze tuned. They had completed that round two. 

     "Ew. My highschool principal was the worst. He even had a tag for me. 'Psycho! You're at it again? Detention.'"

    She tried to dub the principal's voice. He gave a toothed smile, trying not to laugh out loud. 

   He watched as her small and calling lips danced to the words. He felt like kissing her. He knew what to do. 

    He flipped her to the right side and restrained her from falling with his tough right arm. He titled over her and stared intensely at her dark drown eyeballs. 

     Dia wanted as much to kiss him since twould enhance the plan, but the motive behind it at that moment wasn't nothing related to the plan. Was she already falling for him? God forbid!

    As he brought his mouth closer and closer to kiss her, her phone rang. She sighed as she watched his face wield contours sketched by disappointment. 

   She had meant to push him away in the first place, but thank goodness, her iPhone 12 could be an angel too. She had no idea. 

    "Oh sorry."

   He stepped back as he watched her hurry towards the phone. 

    Twas her father. She ignored and slid the phone into her handbag. He walked to her. 

    "Sorry. Didn't know what I was thinking. "

   He emphasized, his eyelids twinkling, probably to the rhythm of his heartbeat. He meant it. 

    "No, it's fine. We were simply caught up in the moment."

    She preached. He hugged her abruptly and pecked her on the cheek. She moved a little bit back and crashed on the table behind her. 

    He let go and muttered again,

     "Sorry"

    As he hurried out of the grey limousine, awaited by his bodyguards. 

    She didn't know when she smiled. She found him wierd but cute. She looked through the window as he settled into the car and the door shut. 

    She regretted to admit that she was beginning to fancy him but that obviously wasn't part of the plan. 

    "Zoe."

    She said as loudly as she could. Zoe should hear about the success of the plan and also the odds of her falling in love.  She thought about what would be the best option,

    "Call or visit her?" 

     She picked up her bag and walked to Jane's office, the former owner of the studio. The old lady had said that she had some reasons to stay back. Probably one of them would have a change of mind. She couldn't possibly watch her heritage come to ruin. 

    "Bye, Jane. I'll stop at Zoe's."

    Dia promised and headed out, walking towards her black Hyundai Grand i10. She got in and ignited the motion. 

    Max had called Zoe the following week after meeting and Zoe had introduced Dia to Max as the dance instructor. Since then had Max been going for lessons. Though for the first two days, Alexa went with him but quit going because of some company businesses, plus she was good at the dance already. Remember she had a cousin. 

    When Alexa had discovered that twas Dia who was the instructor she had had a contention but later took it as a compensation. Like Alex, her brother had hurt Dia, patronizing Dia should be a small thing compared to what Alex did. Alexa had always been on a lookout to make Dia feel better knowing that she wouldn't take such thing from no man. Though she wasn't present on Alex's wedding. She had gone to Atlanta for some business. 

    In fifteen minutes, Dia drove into Zoe's compound and parked in the lot. She hurried to the door. The door was locked, but there was music from inside. 

   She had a spare key to Zoe's house, and vice versa. She unlocked the lock and turned the knob. She entered. 

   On the dinning table, there were two plates of half eaten Mac and cheese. Over the stereo, Justin Bierber was singing. 

    "Bitch! Always changing men."

     Dia cussed as she walked towards Zoe's room. As she drew closer, she began to hear pressured breath and panting and moans. 

     "Cougar!"

    She got to the door of the room. She could hear chuckles at that time. She felt like opening the door then a voice came. Twas a male and rich voice. A familiar one. 

    She remembered. Zoe had also opened a door on her while she was on a man many months back. Dia loved revenge.  She hoped she wouldn't regret this. She opened the door. 

     Her jaw dropped first, then her bag. She couldn't contain the shock. She didn't know what to think.  Zoe was kissing,

   

      "Alex!"

     She didn't remember when last she had screamed in such manner. 

   Zoe saw her and laughed at her. Zoe babbled,

    "Oh Dia, we've been waiting for you. Your turn."

    That wasn't the Zoe she knew. Zoe seemed drunk. Her face had been smothered by the shade of booze. How about Alex? Don't ask. Dead drunk. 

   Both were drunk, but that wasn't an excuse to Dia. What would had brought the two together? Let alone the intense conversation and relaxation which which had led them to getting drunk. 

   So all these whiles, Zoe had had something with Alex?

    Dia stooped to pick her bag, she didn't even know what she was doing. The bag was just right there right by her leg but her hand was dancing all around. 

   She somehow hit her head against the door as she stood up and stomped out of the room.

   She could hear Zoe calling at her. But not in the manner she should be called. That wasn't Zoe. Would she remember when she was sane again?

   Dia heard someone made a thud on the floor. She knew who twas. Zoe kept the drunk call coming. 

   For the first time, Dia wished she was deaf. 

      How could Zoe? Alex of all men? The guy who turned her best friend to a revenge psycho. 

   Shit.