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Dangerous Romance

Dangerous Romance

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For 22 years, the walls of wealth shield Emma from her so-called lovers until her father’s sudden demise. When Tim appeared in her life, his cuddling fantasies romanticized her soul; his elegant presence occupied her mind. They became lovers but Tim’s cowardice magnified her fear (of losing her fortune) until he suddenly confronts her enemies. However, despite discovering the brain deficiency that enables him to defeat her obstinate foes, she cleaved to him and persuaded him to be her protector. The flow was interrupted when Emma realized that Tim masterminded the unfavorable circumstances that ended her father’s life. How would she deal with the dilemma that Tim’s two-edged sword pierced into her innocent heart?

1 - At Club-41

[Emma's P.O.V]

“How does it feel to be alone on a …?”

“I’m not alone.” I sipped some wine from my tumbler. I raised my head to gaze upon the one who approached my empty opposite seat. My sight organs were gummy and blurry.

He dusted the shoulder pads of his black-blue suit. His tiny dark eyes reflected the constant blue spinning lights. He slanted his head towards his left shoulder and briefed a smile at me.

I scrubbed my dimmed eyes and took my gaze off him, adjusted my seat and placed my palms on the table.

He expanded his thin eyes as I stared at him without blinking my sight organs.

I scrolled through my phone, smiling as I speak my word distinctively within the serene atmosphere of rhythm and blues. “The nude strippers, the elegant disk jockey, the spinning blue disco lights, the …” I stretched my arms and yawned with my mouth wide open. “Mr. Prince Charming,” I briefly looked into his eyes and forced a smirk, “I’m fine being here all by myself.”

He gazed at me with his arms folded.

I focused my eyes on my phone again, glanced at him and our eyes met. I waved my right palm before him. “Hello!” he shut his eyes. “You’re not saying anything!”

He opened his eyes and grinned. “I’m Tim.”

“Emma.” I rested my head on the table.

He drummed his fingers on the table lightly.

I adjusted my sitting posture and cleared my throat. My eyes roamed around the air of the spinning blue-red disco lights. I saw nothing but the normalcy of ‘Club 41’. - The tall nude strippers rolled their slender bodies on the slim poles, on the podium next to the disk jockey.

I gawked into his charming dark eyes and brought my forehead closer to his. “Don’t tell me you’re looking for love.”

He sighed.

I laughed loudly.

He rubbed his palms together and rolled his eyes around.

“I’m sorry for …”

“No,” he raised his right palm, “it’s fine.”

I re-echoed my erratic chuckles. “Tim,” I smiled, “I got all I need in a world of doubt. No new friends now!”

“Well,” he sipped some wine from his tumbler, “I listen to Sia too.” He glanced at his sparkling wristwatch. “Not a fan though.”  

I dropped my keys on the wooden glossy table. I hid my eyes behind my palms and laughed quietly. “It’s nice meeting a gentleman like you.”

He landed his palm on my left shoulder as he stood behind me.   

I uncovered my face and looked into his eyes. His dry face had the feature of a bald-skinned head. His puffy cheeks looked powdered. I rolled my tongue across the border of my lips and took my eyes off him.   

He glanced at his chiming phone and smiled at me. “I need to go.”

As he lifted his palms off my shoulder, I gasped for the fragrance of his presence. My mouth seeks his kisses as I watched him walk through the dual giant door, into the busy streets.

Ever since that day, I experienced daydreams of erotic love in a world of abundant infidelities. Tim pioneered the first chapter of my love story. He redirected the course of my life from the tracks of non-erotic decent love. Tim’s personality is strong and irresistible on the twisted path of my sensual emotions.

My senses feel his presence within the air that revolves around me but he never showed up physically. Tim is a virtual soul with an iota of existence in reality. The irrevocable impact of his occurrence in my life on that fateful Friday was beyond my comprehension. My sleep and dreams are reflections of no one else but Tim.  

I existed in Tim’s Paradise until her soft slaps on my cheeks exited me from my hallucinations.

“You were sleep talking.”

I rolled on the bed, towards the walls. I clenched my eyeballs softly and sat up on the bed.

“Sort of romantic whispers …”

I rubbed my palms and bowed my head.  

“I think you’re in love!” She chuckled and grabbed the doorknob. “Let’s meet him, access him, interview him and test him … to see the man who dominated my sister’s sleep.” She shut the door.

“Did I call anyone’s name?”  

My wall clock ticked at the same rate as my heartbeat. As I widened my window curtains, illuminations from the hovering white clouds dashed into my cherished room. I sat on my chair gazing at the clouds and caressing my brown thick diary wondering whether I echoed his name in my sleep. Does my sister know anything about Tim?

A knock on my door quelled my thoughts. I peeped. “Good morning.”

A man of average height stood at my door. The arms of his suit barely reached his wrists. He smiled and brought some flowers from behind.

I inhaled the flowers and grabbed them from him with utmost care. I raised my eyes as my sister approached my door. She walked her flip-flop on the smooth tiles floors of the corridor. Her smirks forced me to hide the flowers she already saw.  

“I told you!” she clapped before my blinking eyes. “Tell me,” she muttered near my ears, “what’s his name?”

“Miss,” the flower man handed me a small slip, “this too.”

I grabbed it, “thanks,” and shut my door.

The end of my encounter with Tim’s crew never came. They reach out to me almost every day but I never saw him unless in my dreams. My prayer on a daily is that my Prince Charming exists in the real world. Although I locked my door, she knocked again to invade my privacies for the second time.

“I just want to be alone for now!”

The mysteries of Tim’s illusions are the order of my day. Thinking straight is harder every single day. I knew the only antidote to my worries is Tim’s physical presence around me for the rest of my life.

I scrubbed my eyes and sobbed silently before my mirrors. I exhaled the choking airs that stole my utopia. I smashed my fists on my table in agonies. I should be on cloud nine wrapped in the arms of the one who could replace my late father. All I ever dreamed of was a man to fill that void.

Tim is also imperfect like every other human. I am unsure whether his handsomeness compliments his character. All I know is that his charming fragrance trapped my soul in the oceans of his love. I never sank neither do I sink. I am forever sinking in his gentle soft touches that sparked my erotic desires on that fateful Friday.

I am lost in the world of love, trapped in Tim’s paradise, cleaved to his virtual soul. I exist in the real world with his irresistible spirit whirling around me. Since I met him, my sensual hormones were dead to any soul who embraces my beauty.  

“Emma,” her soft knocks landed on my door, “could we please talk for a moment?” she said. “These assets, stocks, shares, dividends …”

“Is that your priority now?” I opened the door. “Just come in.”

“This time,” she stood in akimbo and rolled her eyes around my room, “with your permission.” She shook her head and smiled. While she stood before my mirrors, she uttered the words I never expected. “What does he sees in a whole you?”

I approached her from behind and caressed her shoulders. I gazed up at her brown wavy braids that ran down her nape. “I wish a man did me this way,” I whispered.

She eyeballed me and held my hands. “Call the man,” she said, “he’s needed here.”

I shook my head. Heavy tears filled my eyes but they never dropped. “In the words of …”

“I’m here for you.” She said. “They may be gone but I’ll be here till the end.”

She ran her cold palms on my sweaty forehead. My tensed soul attained the same calmness I witnessed in Tim’s world. The only exception was the activation of my sensual hormones. They never left their dormancy.

I panted and pulled my hands out of hers. “I’m in for this.” I returned to my bed. “Let’s talk the way forward.”

She smirked and shook her head simultaneously, advancing her footsteps towards the walls behind me. “There’s no way forward than getting him.”

“I don’t even trust myself,” I sniffed, “how do I trust a single soul in the world?”

She approached me and held my jaws. “You can’t play it safe and get your best out of life. You must be tough.”

“Tough times don’t last. Tough people do.”

“Good!” she walked out of my room.

Her gestures defined her sincere but twisted love for me. I scrolled through my playlist finding the perfect melody for the moment, the rhythm that embraces her suggestion. No blues does this other than Celine Dion’s Call the Man.

The crooner’s sweet melisma relaxed my nerves. Tim’s illusions soared around my room. My windows welcomed the cool winds of freedom. They brushed my tender face and raised my hopes. I tucked my cold palms between my warm laps. My self-made version of Tim’s caresses dawned upon my sensual hormones.

The music immersed me in these feelings as Tim’s hallucinations kindled my yearning for him. Throughout my life, a soul like Tim had never captivated my emotions. The walls of wealth and power preserved my soul for his arrival in my life. However, my memories still retain those pleasing moments with my father before his demise. He was kind to both humans and nature. His humble soul enables animals to sit in our garden with comfort that whispers their safety.

Wrapped by Tim’s invisible arms around my soul, my eyes recaptured those sweet moments when I just plaited my hair. I run to him to comfort my scalps and heal the scalp pains on his lap. He pleases me often. Everyone around thought he abused me. They called it incest and child abuse but all I witnessed was pure care and genuine love.

“Now that he’s gone,” I wiped my tears, “I need someone to fill that void,” I whispered to myself as I approached my mirrors.

My sore red eyes had swollen from the effects of my fantasies with Tim and the reminiscing of my late loved father. I desired nothing else other than the physical presence of the two in my life at the same time.

The clock strikes ten. I peeped through my windows to observe the white clouds as it hovers over the glowing sun. Her light rays dashed through my windows as I sat still to comfort myself on the only wooden chair in my room.

I unlocked my personal computer, ready to type my experience with Tim and the recapturing moments with my loved father. Tears ran down my cheeks as I typed every single word.

Frustrated by the events and mesmerized by Tim’s illusions, I clipped my laptop and dumped my lame body on the bed again. The breeze that found its way into my windows was scorching as the afternoon’s sun. I shut my windows and turned on my air conditioner.

I wrapped myself with my thick blanket hoping to recover but I shivered the more! I called my sister on phone. As she rushed in, my eyes shut themselves in uttermost darkness. All I heard was ‘Wake up darling! I’m here for you’.

My gummy eyes expanded with friction that held them in darkness. Images formed were worst than not seeing at all. I feel Tim’s spirits covering my arms and overwhelming my heart in kisses as my eyes went dim again.

2 - Tim's Reflections

[Tim’s P.O.V]

I needed a clue to capture her heart.

My mind dwelled on this as my chauffeur zoomed into the streets of GoldView Estate. - An exclusive environment of giant brown-cream castles. The black bitumen lanes only knew exotic cars. No soul walked on the pedestrian walkways as we drove by. Giant streetlights are aligned on both sides of the lane which occupies three cars at a time.

Jake landed his hands on the stereo as he drove. The rhythm flowed with the air-conditioned atmosphere. I observed his gestures in the rearview mirror while I remained at the owner’s corner. His mean facial expression tensed my soul. Immediately, sweat covered my face despite the artificial cool atmosphere in my car. I pulled off my long sleeves suit, leaving my short sleeves shirt on me. I mopped my forehead with my woolly handkerchief.

Can I still trust him? All the four years he worked with me, I never witnessed such daring expressions from my driver. He had a calm fa


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