Chapter 3

The two absolute things he couldn’t stand were a marriage, which his father begged him for, and poverty. He couldn’t stand being around poor people, cheap things, and things that weren’t of his standard and not beautiful.

The ringing of the phone brought him out of his thoughts. He looked at the caller ID, and as usual, it was his annoying best friend since childhood, Berat.

“What do you want?” Murat spoke, rocking his comfy armchair.

“God, what crawled up into your ass and died? Aren’t you supposed to be happy to confirm the deal with the investors?” He asked.

“How did you know? I just signed the deal?” Murat inquired.

“Ah. That’s for me to know and you to never find out, dear.” He said in a sickeningly sweet tone.

Murat rolled his eyes; he surely had sweet-talked his secretary into telling him.

“Anyways, we didn’t party for God knows how long. Today is Thursday, and WE HAVE TO GO. Do you understand? I don’t want to hear a no. It will break my heart.” He added, sniffing.

Talk about being dramatic?

Murat sighed.

“I will be at your place in a few hours, and then we can go to some club,” Murat retorted, looking at his wristwatch. There were still some office hours left, but he could cut some slack for spending a tiresome week preparing for that Italian deal.

There was silence for the next minute. Murat checked his phone to see if he had hung up or something, hearing a sharp intake of breath.

“OH.MY.GOD. Did I really hear my best friend say yes to me, without showing tantrums like the queen he is?... Who are you? Where is my best friend? What did you do to him? I swear to god if you lay a finger on him, I will chop you off into pieces and feed it to my dog.” He said dramatically.

“Stop being dramatic, Berat. You don’t even have a dog.”

He never rolled his eyes and sighed as much as he did when talking to him.

“I can always buy one,” was his remark with sass.

“Just send me the place name and time. Will you?” Murat retorted, raising his voice.

“Ok... Geez. Calm your horses, dude.” He said casually, being quite acquainted with his rude behavior.

“Be here soon, honey. I am missing you.” He cooed.

“Ok. I am hanging up.”

“Oh no, you will not. If you hang—”

Murat hung up and sighed, wondering why in the world he was friends with such a dramatic man.

Picking up his jacket and mobile, he informed his assistant, and without the momentary glances of his employees, walked out of his office.

Time to loosen up.

Soon enough, they arrived at the club; it was impressive and elite.

As soon as they walked in, gasps and whispers were heard along with the loud music. As usual, ignoring them, Murat went towards the private booth which Berat reserved earlier.

Some would kill to have what they had and think their lives were better, but in fact, we were all a part of a fucked-up world. We all had to fight our demons and live somehow, but some of us chose to fill the emptiness with success while others chose to bitch about it.

The smell of alcohol and sweat hit his nostrils like a brick, but he kept walking to the private open booths. The first thing that caught his attention was the crowd around the stage, screaming,

“RED!”

“RED!”

“What is that screaming?” Murat asked, taking a swig of his freshly poured glass of champagne.

“I heard there is a stripper called Red here; people are crazy about her dance,” Berat replied, eyeing the girls around.

“I guess she’s that good,” Murat chuckled, refilling his glass.

Not soon after, a girl with a petite body, brown eyes, and dark hair walked to them, wearing white lingerie that barely covered anything.

She sensually started dancing for them, Berat enjoying her moves, yet Murat, getting bored, looked away. He wasn’t a striptease kind of person; all he needed was a quick fuck to get it over with.

Scanning the club, hoping to find a good lay, his eyes landed on a girl in a red dress, and something about her made him not tear away his gaze.

It wasn’t her full red lips or her strawberry blonde hair; it wasn’t her hot curvy body either.

It was her eyes, hazel green, holding something akin to dare or challenge her.

A new desire started burning within him, to have her, her mind, soul, heart, to hear her screaming his name and begging for more.

This was new, something that even made Murat shocked for a second.

A private dance from this stripper couldn’t get him hard, but one look from this girl plus his thoughts got him painfully hard.

Her eyes held a spark, and when her gaze locked with Murat, he felt like he had unlocked a part of the world no one ever had.

Placing his glass back, he stood from his place, ignoring Berat, who was calling after him, and slowly went towards her, eyes still locked with her gaze. But before he could reach her, she tore away her gaze and walked out of the club.

Leaving Murat Khan in a trance.

“Dude, where the hell were you?” Berat almost barked in a haze, seeing a frustrated Murat coming back.

Murat didn’t even reply; what was he going to say that he jogged outside the club and even threatened the manager in search of that hazel-eyed beauty but got no clue as she never registered her address and came occasionally. On top of cherry, his desire for her was agitating him.

He gulped one after another drink in frustration, despite the incredulous looks of Berat, and the next minute, grabbed the same stripper from before, making her yelp.

“I am taking her; you find another one!” He slurred before taking the stripper upstairs towards the private room.

“But—” Berat tried to protest, but he was gone.

“God! What happened to him now?” he wondered, making a mental note to bug him later.