by Marian Tee
Location: (Redacted)
LLC: Thank you for your interest in joining our program. You have stated in your application form that you have been referred by (name redacted, Code: 058-A). May we know your relation to 058-A?
058: She was my mother's best friend in high school. We've kept in touch through the years, and she's been like a second mom to me.
LLC: What made you decide to apply?
058: My dad...he's not getting any younger, and it hurts me to see him still working so hard even at his age. That's why...when I learned about this, I know you're going to think I'm silly, but I felt like it was God's answer to my prayers.
LLC: I see.
058: Are there any specific qualifications or requirements that you're looking for?
LLC: If you remember, you were asked to sign a consent form along with your application?
058: Yes.
LLC: We've since used this to obtain your most recent health records from your university.
058: Oh.
LLC: Due to the nature of the program, we have the strictest health standards, and only applicants able to meet these can be considered. I think I'm permitted to say that your prospective employer was very pleased when he viewed your health records. But may I confirm certain details?
058: Yes, of course.
LLC: You have never smoked?
058: Never.
LLC: You also indicated that you seldom drink?
058: You're going to think I'm silly again, and maybe terribly old-fashioned, but those things never appealed to me.
LLC: These things, as you say, are what actually worked in your favor. And now, we move on to your academic records.
058: You were able to access those, too?
LLC: Yes.
058: Oh no. I hope it didn't make him think I'm a nerd...even though I really am.
LLC: On the contrary, your commendable performance in university has also worked in your favor. It's made you extremely suitable for the job, actually.
058: I...can't believe it. I hope this isn't a dream.
LLC: There are still a few things we need to iron out, and as long as you agree to all of them, it is very likely that you'll be successfully admitted to our program.
058: Anything, sir. I'm willing to do anything.
LLC: You understand that the procedure required by the program must be performed naturally?
058: Do you mean...oh no, it's so hard to say the word out loud.
LLC: If merely speaking the word is difficult for you, then...
058: I...I can do it. Just give me some time. It's...it's...oh gosh, I can already feel myself blushing. I've never had a boyfriend, and so these things...
LLC: I see.
058: Alright, I won't be such a baby anymore. This job requires that...that I have s-sex with my prospective employer.
LLC: Indeed. And you are agreeable to this?
058: I think so - no, sorry, forget I said that. I'll do it, sir.
LLC: You will also need to do this as often as your prospective employer deems it necessary.
058: T-that's fine. But may I know...why does he need to do it this way?
LLC: I am not in a position to speculate on such matters.
058: I just want to prepare myself. Please sir, can't you give me even the smallest clue?
LLC: His physical appearance—-
058: So that's why.
LLC: I was not—-
058: It's fine, sir. I won't change my mind. I'm willing to do anything and everything, as long as it means I'll be able to help my dad.
Chapter Four
Pick up, you bitch. Pick up. I knew I should be spending my time more productively, with a test to review for, and three more YouTube tutorials to watch on digital marketing, but God...every time I remember what I read this morning—-
Oh, the fucking nerve.
I glared at my phone as it kept ringing and ringing. I was dying, just fucking dying to give Dahlia a piece of my mind, now that I knew what had gone down during the interview.
The nerve of her, to act like she was so devoted to Greg, when she hadn't even bothered to visit him a single time even after knowing the truth.
And God, don't even get me fucking started on her nasty little digs, with how she had actually managed to talk shit about me while making herself look like an angel at the same time.
You're going to think I'm silly again, and maybe terribly old-fashioned.
I hope it didn't make him think I'm a nerd...even though I really am.
Just thinking about it made me want to punch something, and that wasn't even the worst part. What had really made me feel like throwing up and murdering my twin was how, even by merely reading the words, I could so easily picture Dahlia pretending to be this naïve little thing while whispering in a trembling voice, I can't believe it. I hope this isn't a dream.
Dahlia had never let me forget that my own naïvete was the sole reason she was in my life in the first place, and it was why, even after all these years, I always strove to act tough and keep most people at a distance.
I had thought that would be enough, too.
But obviously, I was wrong.
Not only had Dahlia managed to throw me under the bus to the tune of two hundred thousand euros, but because the Fates had chosen to fuck up in her favor, she had also ended up taking away the boy I liked...for the second time.
I thought she was you at first, Johnny had told me last night. He had been working at his family's hotel in the Bahamas when he saw Dahlia check in. He had called out my name, and Dahlia had immediately corrected him, saying she was my twin.
That's why I knew she had changed, Johnny had tried to convince me. She could've pretended to be you like she always did, but she hadn't. I know you have every right to be angry at her, but she's truly changed.
The earnest tone of his voice was all I had needed to hear to know that Dahlia had once again found another gullible fool to wrap around her little finger. I hadn't even bothered trying to change Johnny's mind. There was just no point. I had seen it happen so many times: the moment Dahlia gets her claws into a man, that was it. He'd be my twin's slave forever until she tired of him, and Johnny was no different from all of her former victims, even if he insisted otherwise.
Dahlia tried to leave me so many times - she hated the thought of hurting you so much.
That was called 'reverse psychology', and you'd think someone who had a degree in human resource management would realize that, but oh well. Fools in love, right?
She made me promise to tell you the truth.
Of course she did. Nothing more fun than to have the boy I like twist the knife a little deeper, right?
And I wanted that, too. We're like a family now, and families stick up for each other, through the good and bad.
I believed that, and I knew Johnny believed that, too, but Dahlia?
And she just wants you to know, she doesn't hold it against you. After what she did to you, it was only natural, she said, that you'd try to get back at her. But...if you ask me, I think it's not the same. Dahlia was sixteen like you when she did what she did. But you're a grown up now, and the method you've chosen...I'm just disappointed and sad.
Johnny's words had confused me at first, but when he kept on talking about vengeance never being the answer and how there were certain lines that people should never cross, things had started making sense eventually, and for a few moments, I had been in complete shock, unable to believe that the bitch had done it again. I wasn't sure how she had managed to pull it off, but as Johnny went on and on rather self-righteously on the need to forgive and move on, I could only think of one thing. She had done it again—-
Don't you think it's a little sick to sell your own sister to the devil? Did you really think you'd be able to get away with it?
And I was right.
Even after everything Johnny knew about Dahlia and me, the bitch had still found a way to turn the tables around. Just like what she had done
to my former best friends and high school crush, she had once again convinced someone I had stupidly trusted to think the worst of me.
Johnny actually believed that I was the one who had agreed to have sex and get pregnant for money, and later on arranged to have Dahlia take the fall as an act of revenge.
Clever heartless bitch, my twin was, with the way she had diabolically maneuvered everything so that she'd be laughing her way to the bank - and Johnny's bed, too - while I ended up with a smoking gun in my hands and trapped in the shittiest place in the world, which Google Maps would tell you was somewhere between a huge fucking rock and a hard place.
Since I'd never risk having Greg behind bars, Dahlia knew I could only choose one or the other: keep my V-card and get my ass sued...or throw away my pride and have a stranger knock me up.
My mind flashed back to the latter part of the interview and how Dahlia had so obviously misunderstood the lawyer about the appearance of her prospective "employer". I bet, oh I'd fucking bet she'd love to hear how, with my back against the wall, I had ended up saying yes and letting an ugly old fuck use me as his breeding cow.
Unfortunately for her, however...
An idea took hold of my mind, an idea so fucking crazy that pigs might as well fly first before it happened.
It would never work, Smarter Side of Me scoffed.
But if it did...
Oh, if it fucking did...
It might just have Dahlia shitting in her pants for the rest of her life, and the thought alone had me making up my mind.
Dear Ms. Teller,
This is to acknowledge receipt of payment for Job Order XV19.
Packing shall commence at 1000h and estimate completion time of the job will be 1800h.
Thank you for your trust, and please do not hesitate to contact us for any concerns or additional requests.
Sincerely,
Green Lit Moving Company.
Chapter Five
Un-fucking-believable. I had such a hard time believing what I was seeing that I found myself turning back to step out of the room and make sure I was in the right place.
Room 23-B.
That was my room.
Ergo—-
I stepped back into my apartment and found myself thinking again, Un-fucking-believable. I honestly thought the message in my inbox this morning had been some kind of scam and hadn't thought twice about throwing it into the junk folder right away.
But obviously, I was wrong.
That shit about the moving company clearing my place was for real.
Like, my-entire-apartment-was-now-empty kind of real.
The clothes I had hanging inside the cabinets, my underwear, and even the ones that I had inside the laundry basket? Gone.
The stuff on my desk? Nowhere in sight.
Even my fucking bedsheets and the art prints I had taped to my mirror - everything had been packed off, and just as I started seeing red, I heard my phone ring.
The number wasn't saved in my contacts, but that didn't matter. Only one person could be calling me at this moment, and I answered it right away, yelling, "Where the fuck are my things, you asshole?"
A rich dark laugh rippled down the line, and I had to clench my jaw hard against its sensual impact on my already trembling body. Un-fucking-believable. He only had to laugh, and my tits were already swelling against my bra like they were all ready and begging to be fondled.
"Come down, habibti."
I nearly threw my phone out of the window when I heard the SOB's voice purring into my ear. Gaaah. What was it with this man that he could turn me on with just the sound - wait a fucking minute. Did he just say...come down?
The thought instantly made me stiffen. "Where exactly are you?"
"Where you asked me to drop you off the last time."
Shit.
"And if you are not here in ten minutes, then you leave me no choice—-"
I hung up.
It was the only thing I could do, the only way I could score a point against him - albeit pettily - even as I stalked out of my dorm room and slammed the door shut behind me. Damn that piece of sheikh. Damn him, damn him, damn him. I couldn't stop myself from mentally yelling this with every step I took, and by the time I finally made it to the end of the block and saw him leaning against his fancy sportscar—-
I just couldn't help it, my hand flying up the moment I reached him.
But of course his reflexes proved far more agile than mine, his fingers capturing my wrist mid-air, and in one swiftly twisting motion, our positions were reversed, and I found myself pinned back against the side of his car.
He leaned forward, and I nearly cried out in frustration when I felt my curves instantly molding against the hard, hot length of his body. Damn stupid hormones have no fucking pride, and the way my pulse leapt as our gazes met just drove the point home.
Gaaaah.
Why did this asshole have to be too beautiful for words? It literally broke my heart, it really did, when I thought of how every inch of his body seemed designed to seduce and enslave while at the same time every word that came out of his obnoxious mouth was just pure chauvinistic garbage.
"You must stop trying to raise your hand against me in public, habibti."
The sheikh's tone was softly chiding, but the way it was also accompanied by a gleam of amusement in his gaze had my teeth gnashing.
"I have already warned you of the consequences of doing so, but still you persist."
"Because you're an asshole," I hissed under my breath.
"Is that truly the reason, my Story? Maybe it's something else," he suggested silkily. "Maybe you secretly wish to be punished all along—-"
Oh, the fucking nerve.
I was about to try kneeing him in the nuts when I noticed too late that the other students had come to a standstill and were now staring at us openly.
Shit.
The sheikh followed my gaze, and when he glanced back at me, he asked rather blandly, "You don't care for the attention?"
I shook my head, saying shortly, "I hate it." Color me traumatized, but just having strangers look at me never failed to make me wonder if they had unearthed my old high school scandal and recognized me as the girl to contact for free blowjobs.
I expected the sheikh to prolong my torment after my revelation, but instead he released me right away and opened the passenger door. "In you go, Ms. Teller." The gentleness of his tone made me look at him warily, and seeing this, the sheikh's lips curved in a dangerously wicked smile. "Come now. Don't say you are afraid to be alone with me?"
My chin automatically went up. "Of course not." But the moment I was inside his car, I wanted to bang my head against the wall, realizing too late how easily I had fallen for his trap. Damn piece of sheikh was too devious for his own good, and damn my pride for making me do stupid things.
I watched him walk around the car to get to the driver's side and saw the way the other girls were openly ogling him. It pissed me off, seeing them stare at him, and as always, it pissed me off even more that such things bothered me.
And when he was finally sitting next to me?
My heart started pounding, and I had another reason to add to the thousands I already had for hating myself.
It was silent between us for a while, and I was privately grateful for the chance to regain my composure and sort out my thoughts. He had completely taken me by surprise earlier, but now that I was thinking more clearly, I couldn't help remembering that crazy little idea I had this morning, after reading the transcript of Dahlia's interview.
What if...just what if...
"I just thought you should know," the sheikh drawled. "We'll be having sex tonight."
What if I simply killed this son of a bitch, just to help the world get rid of another asshole?
My head snapped to his direction, and the sight of his smirk made me realize he had said those things just to rile me up.
"Why do you always have to be so—-" I saw the way his dark gaze gleam
ed, and I had my answer. Or rather, I already had the answer to my own question, but I had just forgotten about it.
The SOB believed "angry sex" with me would be amazing, so of course he'd do what he could to make me lose my temper. He was a kinky piece of sheikh, after all. Devastatingly attractive, too, but still.
"I know you have the upper hand," I muttered, "and I...I signed a contract—-" I barely managed to choke the words out. "But I don't think I can go through with it."
I felt his gaze turn towards me, but I kept my gaze stubbornly pinned to the road ahead.
"Are you a virgin?"
I didn't want to answer that, but with the way my cheeks instantly heated up, I knew it was only a matter of time—-
"I thought so."
The purring satisfaction in his voice had me gnashing my teeth.
"I have never had a virgin before—-"
I just couldn't keep myself silent any longer. "Seriously? That's what you're going to say? I'm telling you I've never had sex before, and all you can do is talk like I'm something you'd have for breakfast—-"
But the sheikh simply dismissed this with a shrug of his hatefully broad shoulders. "It is, indeed, how I think of you. I wanted to eat you up the moment you opened your beautiful little mouth and called me an asshole."
He had me so incensed the word was out before I could stop myself. "Asshole!"
And of course, this only had the damn pig laughing. "Tell me more, habibti."
Yeargh!
I should be hating him right now, dammit. But my hormones being the sex-crazed little fuckers that they were, the thought of him "eating" me up only had my body trembling under my dress, and I could once again feel my breasts starting to ache.
"If you are worried about the pain," the sheikh murmured, "there is no need to be. I shall, mm...how is it that you Americans term this? I shall pop your cherry—-"
"Asshole!"
"In a way that will cause you the least amount of discomfort."
"Fuck you!"
"Patience, my Story. It shall and will happen tonight—-"
"I'd cut your dick off," I snarled, "before I let that happen."