He Wants to Steal Me From My Boyfriend

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"Gwendolyn, come pick me up. Some woman set me up!" Joey's angry shout reverberated as I stood outside the villa.

I glanced at my phone; it was 2:03 AM. Situated in the city's most lively district, the villa felt isolated and quiet, except for a few dim street lamps that made the night seem even darker.

Normally, I’m the epitome of calm, but tonight annoyance lingered in my chest. Taking a deep breath, I rang the doorbell as I reached the entrance.

The door swung open quickly. An older man in a classic tweed suit stood there, observing me with mild interest. "You're here for Mr. Davis, I presume?"

I nodded. "Yes."

He gestured courteously for me to follow. "Please, come in."

The villa's courtyard was luxurious, yet in the subdued light, it seemed stark. In my haste to respond to Joey's call, I'd pulled on a light gray cardigan over my leggings. The crisp night air nipped at my skin, raising goosebumps.

A few minutes later, I was led into the villa's grand living room. The first thing I spotted was a man sitting prominently in the center. Before I could make out his features, something collided with me unexpectedly.

It was Joey.

Though awake, the alcohol still clouded his senses. He clung to me, words slurred, “Gwendolyn, if you hadn’t come, I’d have lost everything. She said she wanted to buy me drinks, but then her friends got me drunk and dragged me here.”

Joey worked as a server at a swanky nightclub, earning more than I did at the pharmacy. He rarely turned down drinks with clients, especially with his rugged looks and athletic build, often drawing attention from the wrong crowd.

Fueled by a mix of indignation and alcohol, Joey turned to point at a young woman lounging on the sofa, raising a challenging eyebrow. "What you did was way out of line! I'm taken, and your advances are unwelcome."

With determination, he grabbed my hand and steered us towards the exit.

Suddenly, an authoritative voice commanded, “Joey, hold on!”

The young woman jumped up from the sofa, her pretty features twisted with anger and embarrassment. Her fingers sparkled with oversized diamond rings. "Who do you think you are? You should be grateful I’m interested!"

A man’s gentle voice interjected, despite the reprimand in it. "Mariana, that’s enough."

He stood, revealing his strikingly handsome face—sharp features softened by his pallor and the warm empathy in his eyes, suggesting a gentle soul beneath a stern exterior. It didn’t take long to realize he was someone who battled chronic insomnia.

Offering a sincere smile, he spoke with genuine remorse, "I apologize for my sister’s behavior. It won't happen again, but if by chance it does, we’ll ensure the authorities are involved."

His calm demeanor was reassuring, and I nodded in acceptance. "I appreciate your understanding, but if anything like this happens again, I won’t hesitate to report it."

He maintained his gentle smile, full of apology. "I understand. Luckily, no harm came to your boyfriend. I hope tonight’s ordeal doesn’t affect your relationship."

Boone, one of his staff, stepped forward with an elegantly wrapped gift box and handed it to the man. Extending it to me, he said, "A small token of apology."

I quickly declined, "That’s unnecessary. Thank you."

Before I could finish, Joey leaned heavily against my shoulder, asleep.

Despite our awkward stance given my five-foot-five frame against Joey’s six-foot stature, the stress of the evening had left him exhausted, choosing to lean on me, the one he trusted.

I gently tousled his curly hair, trying to wake him, but rousing a drunk man turned out to be impossible.

The man glanced at the clock, then asked, "May I have your name?"

“Gwendolyn Morris,” I replied, turning my gaze back to him.

Smiling warmly, he introduced himself, "Marco Griffin. It’s late, Miss Morris. If you and Mr. Davis would like, you're welcome to stay the night; we have several guest rooms available."

Mariana’s sulking voice interrupted, her foot stomping dramatically. "Marco!"

Marco turned to her, his tone indulgent. "No more fussing. It’s late. Boone, please escort Miss Griffin to her room."

Boone bowed slightly to Mariana. "Miss, this way please."

With a huff, Mariana shot me a glare before grudgingly storming upstairs.

“Miss Morris?” Marco asked, looking for my decision.

Gently, I shook Joey awake, whispering in his ear, “Joey, let’s go home.”

He stirred slightly, and I coaxed him gently, “Let’s leave.”

We walked hand in hand towards the exit when Marco's voice stopped us. “Miss Morris.”

He instructed Boone to arrange for a driver to take us home. Not allowing me the opportunity to refuse, Marco added with a wry smile, “If you don’t accept even that, I’ll feel too guilty to sleep tonight.”

A glance at his weary face prompted my soft response, “Thank you.”

...

Later, Marco watched from his bedroom window as I helped Joey into the car. His fingers absently searched his chest pocket for a cigarette that wasn’t there in his fresh shirt.

The room remained dark as Marco retrieved a cigarette from a drawer, placing it between his lips, though unlit, while Boone entered with a respectful nod. “Sir.”

Without turning, Marco responded coolly, “If she’s that interested in men, find her a few more. And that brother of hers, isn't he tired of their family's oversight? If they love this world so much, let's help them enjoy it fully.”

Boone nodded in understanding, “Yes sir. And regarding Miss Morris and Mr. Davis?”

Silence followed Boone's question as Marco returned to the window. The car carrying Gwendolyn and Joey had long since disappeared into the night. Fingering his lighter, a flicker briefly lit his face, casting eerie shadows across his handsome features.

Smoke curled from his lips as his voice mingled with the dusky air, “They seem truly devoted to each other.”

That was all he said, but Boone, who had been with him since the age of fifteen, knew well that Marco secretly loathed couples who genuinely loved each other.