A DEAL WITH MY BESTFRIEND'S HUSBAND

Nathalie. 

I have never felt confusion deep-rooted in me the way I'm feeling right now. This man has obviously stuck into my head so much that I couldn't even concentrate during my reading period. It was just him! This weird man, and the image of him tying the straps of my heels... God, I couldn't get my head off that particular gesture.

Fast forward to the next evening, I picked up my pink purse to match the mini skirt and corset singlet outfit I had put together. I turned my head to my younger sister, Emily. She looked deeply conflicted, her gaze focused on her laptop.

I moved closer to her. "Hi. Do you need help with that?!" I asked, my eyes scanning the screen and noticing she was having big issues with the essay she was writing.

She lifted her eyes, gave me a blank look, and then suddenly burst into laughter. I scrunched my face in confusion, glancing around the bedroom. "What's funny?!" I murmured.

"You want to help me," she said amidst her laughter. I nodded my head, still confused about how that was remotely funny. "Nathalie, this is not your type of thing to do. Maybe when I need help with having strip dances for my future husband, I would inform you."

"What?" My voice came out much lower than usual. There was a sudden, agonizing tightness clamping down on my chest. She just continued laughing, completely oblivious to the fact that her cruel words had pierced my heart.

I sighed and quickly stepped out of the room. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I forced them back, refusing to let them fall. Emily has always made me feel like I was nothing more than a stripper to her. Not even her sister.

Gosh... God knows I have always craved to be closer to her, to have maybe my own sister understand how I feel. But her words hurt me deeply, constantly pushing me further and further away from her.

"Nathalie," my mother's voice called out my name. I snapped out of my thoughts and turned to her, completely unaware she had been standing right behind me.

"Yes, Mom," my voice cracked. I was still desperately trying to pull myself together.

She furrowed her brows, noticing I was not in a good mood, but she pressed on anyway. "The household needs a new fridge, and also we need to change Nathan and Ethan's apartment at school," she said, crossing her arms tightly against her chest.

"But Mom, Ethan and Nathan can share a room in the hostel. I'm not financially capable to fund all of that," I muttered, the desperation bleeding into my tone.

She walked closer to me, reaching out and rubbing my arms with gentleness. "You know you are all we have. We need to make sure your siblings have a better life, and you know you can do it for your family if you really want to, Nathalie."

I let out another heavy sigh. My body felt entirely weak, and my shoulders ached, feeling so incredibly heavy like they were carrying a crushing burden. I gave her a slow nod and left the house, heading right back to the club.

The load on my shoulders felt far too heavy tonight, and I desperately wanted to speak to my best friend, but Caroline was completely swamped with work. We had already agreed to meet up next week instead.

Got to the club, I changed into a black lacy bikini set. My mind wandered far, but deep down, I wished Mr. Weird would drop by and give me stacks of cash. Because damn, I needed it!

Zack came into the dressing room and announced Mr. Weird was waiting outside. I raised my brow in utter shock. "Outside?!"

Zack nodded. "You are free for the night, so change and meet him outside."

With a wave of confusion washing over me, I changed into my mini skirt and a basic top. I took a quick look at myself in the mirror, wondering if this type of outfit were one he would actually like. You know, he looks all wealthy and too sleek.

I shook off the thoughts and went outside. Instantly, my eyes locked with his blue eyes. Geez. This man is such a freak-how the heck did he know I was coming out right at that exact moment? I gave him a tight smile and walked toward him.

The moment I came closer to him, he opened the back car door, tilting his head a little to the side. His perfect jawline became even more strikingly attractive. I almost lost my cool, standing there for more than a second with my eyes now completely stuck on his face.

Finally, I sat inside the sleek car, the expensive scent of oud and sandalwood instantly filling my nose.

He walked around the car, and in that moment, there was this certain feeling I couldn't describe. I felt this strange calmness when he slid into the passenger seat right next to me.

He snapped his fingers, and the driver pressed a button that pulled down a privacy partition, completely separating us from the front. Almost immediately, the car started moving.

We sat in silence for a second. I could hear my own heart thumping loudly, my fingers lazily scratching the leather of the seat in sheer anxiety.

"Don't be scared. I just want us to go for a drive." His deep baritone voice sent literal chills down my spine. I turned to look at him, and his eyes were already anchored to my face, making my breath hitch.

"I'm not scared," I retorted, trying to act entirely oblivious to the chaotic mixture of emotions erupting in my heart.

"Humph." He hummed softly. His eyes dropped down to my hands nervously scratching the leather of the seat, then traveled right back to my face.

I cleared my throat and crossed my hands over my chest, realizing he had noticed my nervousness. God. Why does he pick up on every single little thing about me?

"What do you like to do?!" he asked.

I turned to him in surprise. Mr. Strange just said another full sentence?!

"Erm... ice cream. I would love to get ice cream," I responded.

"No. What do you love to do in your free time, Nathalie?!" he repeated the question. My mouth formed an

'O' as I realized I had totally misunderstood his first question.

"Wait a minute," I paused, and he gave me a completely blank look. "My name is Roxy, not Nathalie."

He didn't even acknowledge me correcting him. He simply checked his wristwatch, then fixed his intense gaze back onto my face. My cheeks burned incredibly hot. His stare was way different this time; there was something deeply intense laced underneath it.

I cleared my throat, desperately trying to cover up the heat rushing through me. "How did you know my name?!"

"I made it my business to know." His voice was flat, leaving no room for argument.

My jaw almost dropped, but I forced myself to control it. Meanwhile, I couldn't control the mixture of utter shock and confusion blasting across my face. Before I could utter another word, which felt nearly impossible because his intense stare stuck right to my face, he spoke again.

"Answer me, Nathalie." His voice dropped a whole octave. The air in the car shifted instantly, becoming heavy and hot, very hot.

"W-What?!" I stuttered.

"What do you love to do with your free time?!" He repeated his question. I noticed his jaw tightened for a bit, like repeating a question was an actual war to him.

"I love to read accounting books," I murmured. My brain felt like an open book at that moment, and with his eyes locked on mine, I just kept talking. "Accounting books are like life to me. The numbers of it all... studying it and understanding them makes me feel genuinely happy and increases my self-confidence. You know, I have always wanted to be an accountant, and to be honest, I believe one day I will be." 

I took a deep breath, pausing when I realized he wasn't even speaking. His face just wore that same blank look.

"Nice," he said.

Nice?! My heart felt punched. I poured my soul out about my biggest dreams, and all he said was nice?

The car stopped. I turned my head and found out I was right outside my apartment building. At this point, I had completely had enough! I pushed the car door open and stomped out into the night.

I did not even bother to look back. I just stomped inside my room, absolutely fuming with anger. Emily was deep asleep. I walked closer to the window just to see if his car was gone, and it was no longer there. I huffed to myself, "Stalker!"

How the heck does he know where I live and every single thing about me? That's obsessive behavior! I don't even know his name, and he knows almost everything about me, and maybe even my body count.

I fell asleep angry, though ironically, it was the most restful sleep I had desired for a long, long time.

Waking up in the morning, Mr. Strange was the first thing to cross my mind, but I tried to push him away. I picked up my phone and tried to scroll through my Instagram, but my account had been logged out. 

I scrolled over to my email to recover my account.

My fingers froze.

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