Tarnished Love by Bianca Borell
FILIP
From the moment I saw her long, toned legs peeking out from a thigh high slit, she held my attention. I adjust my pants—the tightness is uncomfortable. I dart outside to cool down, because there is no way I can be attracted to Damien’s woman, only to find Chloe. I curse at myself and at whoever decided to throw this clusterfuck in my way. I cock my head and size her up. She’s slim to bony. Her elegant nose, emerald eyes framed in black curly lashes, and a few freckles sprinkled on her cheeks as if they couldn’t decide where to rest fascinate me.
She senses me, tilts her head, and freezes. We’re literally eye to eye with her heels on.
“Filip.” My name never sounded so sultry, and it heats my every molecule. This woman is passion and fire underneath all the things she represses. I approach her, and she squirms. If Damien goes too far, I will make him pay through her.
“Casualty.” I throw it at her and smirk in anticipation, knowing I’ll elicit a reaction.
She scowls, and I dip my chin to stare in those eyes that for one moment bring me somewhere else, somewhere where I have a life that doesn’t extinguish my spirit and antagonizing her jolts my heart. I step back at the realization. What is it about her? Women do just one thing, raise my interest in my pants.
“All alone? You must be used to this by now.”
Her nostrils flare, and she closes the gap between us, her finger digging into my chest.
“You’re a prick—an insensitive, insufferable, arrogant prick.”
Originality must not be her strong suit. Her neck and cheeks turn red, matching the red undertones of her hair.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
I judged her too soon, and once again she piques my interest.
“I am the other woman, and you are afraid she will get hurt.”
“My sister doesn’t fucking care,” I snarl, while her eyebrows draw together. “Casualty. You’re nothing more than a casualty.”
I end the ridiculous conversation and dart away. This night bores me, and I slide in my car and call Nico. Thank God for friends, alcohol, and women who don’t scream of complications.
