Dia's Room.
"Do you love Max, Dia?"
She asked herself, staring at the formal but seemingly cute picture of Max on her phone. In the picture, Max was dressed in a grey suit, white shirt and some wierd other formal nonsense. There was a wild smile seated in his well-cut face and his lips were everything.
Often Whenever he was with her, she always wanted to have a taste of his warm and soft lips. But her ego had held her back on most occasions. But here she sat interrogating herself. She doesn't get to do that often. If at all she had ever.
"Yes, I love him but I can't date him?"
She answered. Then she asked, making a spree of successive questions and answers,
"Why? Is it because of what happened to you? What Alex did?"
"That's a great part of it, but something makes me wanna overlook though. But I can't just overlook, it seems bigger than me. Seems like I am helpless and I kinda really take delight in it."
The next day. For a transition. "Where?" Dia asked, her phone to her ear, her rolling pupils tracing the lines on the bag hung on the wall opposite her. "The same guesthouse." The feminine voice of the caller came over the speaker. Dia nodded her head instead as though the caller was seating right opposite her, "Alright then. I should be there in twenty." Though she wasn't sure if that was accurate but she couldn't possibly take it back. She hung the call and dropped the phone on the bed. Twas quite an easy choice to make. She was already dressed up for work before she got the call. She would just go to the guesthouse and spend few hours and after than return to the studio. "There we go." She muttered. She stood up and walked over to the bag she had been staring at all along. She picked it up and slid it through her left arm. "No." She corrected and slid it ou
Dia's house. "Expecting someone?" Grandma asked, peering at the smiling Dia, who had just stood up and was going to get the door. The bell had rung. "Little surprises don't hurt no one, ma." Dia said as she walked on. Grandma only watched her go till she couldn't turn her neck any longer. She shook her head slightly and the doorbell chimed again. "I'm here." Dia got the door and opened it to a guy dressed in a simple white t-shirt, with blue jean and a tough pair of shoes. In both hands were fancy polythene. "You're the delivery guy?" She asked, though she knew how illogical twas. The guy nodded, taking no offense. He handed the two polythene bags to her. "Oh, thanks." She grabbed them and looked at the guy closely. "Sorry but you look familiar." She wasn't sure, but it kinda seemed like she had met the guy somewhere sometimes back. You kn
Rowe's apartment. "Here we go." He muttered to himself looking at the exotic building he was standing before its gate. The gate was electric and opened before him immediately. But his jaw dropped at the numbers of men who were standing behind the gate as it opened. There were five henchmen dressed in usual black suits, blue shirts and black shoes. There faces long and emotionless. He was wearing the same kinda look, but his seemed to be a silhouette of the henchmen's. "I'm sure you know whose apartment you're in." One of the slender men shot at him as he stepped in. He didn't have the luxury of time to check out the surrounding first. And even before he could make a stance another had snapped, "You can't return to wherever you came from alive if you'd come here having no business in the first place." He shook his head slightly, tapping his left foot on the marbled floor. Not in fear but s
Belltown inn. "I'm not certain if this will suit your billionaire taste, but believe me, it's worth your stay." Dia said as soon as Albert got the door for her as she stepped out of the limo. Max was already standing to walk her into the guesthouse. "I had no idea that you go out a lot." He said as she tucked her arm into his and they walked towards the door. Albert on the other hand was wearing the usual mean gaze and distorted face. "Might take a while, Albert. Drive around, I'll call you when we are through." Max had turned to Albert who nodded his head, avoiding the belittling gaze of Dia. "I don't really go out. Only when I get an invitation or a call you know." She said as the door opened and they stepped in, walking towards the receptionist or say, attendants. "Them boys still take you out?" She looked at him and shook her head slightly,
Same. "Uhm mm" Dia mumbled, turning slightly on the pounding chest her head was on. She wanted to turn again, when her eyes flipped open like the pages of a book. She was back to her senses. Her true sense of judgement. The Dia in her was awoken. She allowed herself the benefit of doubt in the first place as the sun rays fighting through the window were splattered on her face. She could feel the warmth of the rays washing her face. Max's hard chest pounding against her cheek. Her body on his, her thighs over his sleeping cock. "Huh?" She snapped back to the reality she had been denying. She allowed herself to think about the possibility of what happened between her and Max overnight. That couldn't possibly be true. No! It couldn't be. The thought of them having sex without protection was enough to shatter her will. There were quite a numbers of things she could play with. But pregnancy wasn't part o
Dia's room. "Found a name yet for the unborn baby?" The voice came. Dia sat up immediately in the bed, as she looked around trying to figure out where the voice came from. Then to her left, she noticed a new mirror hung on the wall. "Fuck!" She muttered. She knew that that was Grandma's work. She didn't know why the old woman had to enter her room and replace whatever she thought was missing or old in the room. Most times, she found it difficultly to say whose room the room truly was. Whether hers or Grandma's. "If I were a prophet, you know I'll be the richest from accurate predictions." The voice came again as she snapped back to reality. She dragged her bootie back in the bed towards the head of the bed and leaned on it, looking at the mirror. At first, she was tempted to walk over there and do what she did to the previous one but that would seem like an act of
One of Rowe's companies."Morning, Sir.""Morning, Sir.""Morning, Sir.""Morning, Sir.""Morning, Sir."Came the greeting from the right and left angles of the company hall to Rowe in his Mafia attire, black T-shirt with a skull inscribed in it, a blue jacket, baggy black bean and a pair of white sneakers. He had himself supported with a walking stick made from bones. A ceramic you might want to say.All he did to the greetings was waved his old but bloody left hand. His right hand was entirely for something different. Such thing you wouldn't want to think of. Well, not all unthinkable things are cruel."Morning!"He finally bit the word in a growl, glaring at the set of ladies who had just greeted after the spree of pleasantries.The ladies in fear tucked their heads into their works, cowering as they typed into the system, their fingers trembling. They knew too well never to
Her dance studio. "Hello, this is Dia, who am I speaking with?" She asked, her eyes keen on the students who were swaying to the rhythm of their hearts, mimicking the steps she had thought them. They were at the verge of perfection and she could say boastfully that they were ready for the presentation at the concert. That was all she had been doing, only to be intruded by that call. And picking it up, her ears and brain were both at alert awaiting the response. She could had made a guess on who had called, but twas some unknown number. Then after the long awkward silence which almost forced her to hanging the call, there came a still, feminine but polished voice, "This is Sophia. Calling you from a private firm of Psychology and Human rights. We are called, Lovlock Enterprises GTM, situated in the UK, Canterbury." Dia thought for a while as the British accent paced her mental ken and left her struggling