<Cool story bro. In what chapter do you shut the fuck up?>

|Jadesola|

"MISS JADESOLA, open the door. Please," Kian begged, tone soft. But I wasn't to be fooled again.

The curve of my back slid slowly across the door, palms secured to my ears to block him out.

"Jadesola."

"Leave me alone," I murmured in a tiny voice, unsure he heard but still saying it nonetheless.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't make it go away. Just leave, I beg of you." I increased the pitch of my voice, goosebumps piercing the skin of my arms. He was present in my fucking apartment. Kian was really here!

"Please open the door. You're upset and I understand, but let me in. I need to make this right. Even if it takes everything in me, I have to make it right."

No no no, you can't. I shook my head in denial, another bout of tears drenching my cheeks as I glided close to the floor.

His tone became resolute, firm. "Jadesola, if it means I have to stand in front of this door all night and till eternity, I will gladly do so."

This time I couldn't help but hurl out, seething in anger, "Well, I hope you rot out there then because I am not opening the fucking door! Just leave me alone!!! Haven't you done enough damage??!!"

He didn't miss a beat. "I have and that's why I'm willing to rot here today."

I overheard the shuffling of shoes scuffling against the floor and I realized that he planned to actually sit down in front of my door. Stupid man. We'll see who'll quit first. To prove I would remain stubborn too, I followed suit, resting my aching head and back against the steel door.

For some minutes, golden silence prevailed until he slashed it, the words as clear as if he was saying it right without a door between us, "I know you're still there Jadesola. I heard you sit too."

No comment from me.

As if deeply troubled, Kian groaned. "You should realize by now that I hardly apologize unless I really really messed up. And I did. I messed up big time."

He paused, probably waiting for me to say something but I remained mute, damp eyes closed, inhaling slowly. With every hot breath I dragged in, I envisioned worry lines etched onto his forehead, the lights gone out of his azure eyes and lips pressed into a thin line.

"I could blame my actions on the alcohol, I could claim it's the way you taunted me. I won't. I'm going to let you know the truth. You deserve it. The moment I saw you at that casino, I was attracted to you, believe it or not. It was lust that made me hire you as my P.A. I wanted to sleep with you. It was an obsession and when I had you with me in that room, all alone, under my control. I—"

His voice trailed off.

Then, "I forced myself on you. While I know there's no way I can save you from the torment in your head, give me a chance to help out. Let me try because I know what it is to look for control and not find it. I've been there too."

Still immersed in that dark maze, his words pierced through the cracks and I found myself asking in a hoarse voice, "Been there too?"

"Yeah." He barked a dry laugh, without any mirth. "My ex-wife drugged and forced me to sleep with her."

The weight of his words, bitter and acrid, stung as my eyes flew open. Resentment dripping off my tone, I scoffed, "You must be mad if you believe telling me your own sob story makes any sense. Stinking, raving mad and foolish!!! You forced me to give you a blowjob—"

A lump formed in my throat, scalding tears forming at the back of my eyes but I swallowed it down and continued, "Took my virginity and here you are, thinking you can simply solve it by being the good samaritan who changed my clothes, wore me a pad and told me sorry coupled with this stupid sob story? Fuck no! Just stop talking and leave already!"

My shoulders shook, sobs threatening to break out as I struggled to tamp them down. The oloriburuku wasn't worth my tears.

Again, quietness descended and when there was no movement, or voice to be perceived, I thought I'd won. That he'd packed up and left. But, I was proved wrong.

"No. I'm telling you so you'll know what a heartless person I am. I went through that and I still forced you. I'm despicable and if you never forgive me, I totally understand."

Blah. Blah. Blah. I wiped my eyes with the back of my palm, unseeing gaze settled on the bed.

He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing in my ears. A deafening roar. "Also, just to put this out there, if I had known you were a virgin, I wouldn't have touched you. But you had seemed so—"

Annoyance made my fingers tremble as I cut in harshly, "Experienced? Slutty, yes? You thought I was a whore, right? I mean, you called me one."

His gruff voice dropped so low I had a tough time making out his sentences. "Yeah, not my best moment. I thought you were experienced and that you were just teasing me. And coupled with the disturbing fact that I hadn't had sex in the last six months, I couldn't control my urges."

No sex for six months?!

The coldness of the steel door seeped through my black top and into my skin, a chilling brand. Freezing.

"But that's not an excuse. I was the one who still went along to take you without your consent. I touched you even when you said no. I could have stopped but I didn't. So if you're blaming yourself, in whatever way, please stop. It was never your fault. It was mine and if there is any way I could go back in time to stop myself from violating you, I would."

"Okay," was my reply, exhausted and unbelieving of his repentant attitude.

He didn't say anything for a while and so did I. We were just two humans, sitting on opposite sides of a door, on the frigid floor while we rethought our life decisions.

"Guess who's making the Chicago headlines?" Kian inquired after a long stretch of silence. "We are."

Incensed he'd drawn me back into real time, my eyes narrowed, glaring at the shattered mirror. The emptiness of the once silvered glass and the news angered me to the core.

"There's also a picture of us coming out of that hotel room. After I..." he said nothing else, an underlying tension present in his voice.

The words he'd wanted to mention hung in the air After I violated you.

I'd viewed the photo as well. Whoever had taken it, had done it from such a brilliant angle. It was an image of him and I making our way out of the room. Our stance and the bold pose of Kian wrapping an arm around my waist made it seem as if we were lovers returning after a romantic rendezvous. If only they knew.

I ground out between clenched teeth, vicious, "Well, the whole world knows we're a couple. Surely you're very happy now aren't you, Kian?"

"Far from it. I just want you to open the door."

Open the door. Open the door. In his dreams. Even if he repeated it a million times, my actions would be the opposite. And how the fuck had he even gotten into my apartment?!

"How did you get in?" I asked, inhaling heavily.

"Your mom gave me the keys last night."

Like wildfire, the word mom triggered a spark of fiery response and the words came spilling out of me, burning and caustic, "Of course. My mom!! Do you know she also thinks I'm a whore? Ashawo kobo kobo! And that's not even the worst part of it. I have to take your rapist ass to my mom because it's the only way to prove my innocence!"

"Jadesola, you're-"

"Shut the fuck up!!!" Cords of veins streamed down my neck as I yelled with all my might, rocking on my knees, "I know I sound like a broken record right now but I hate you for making me go through this. I fucking detest you with all I am. Just as you decided I will never have peace, you too will never. You must pay with your blood and I will make sure you rue the day you were born!"

"Jadesola—"

"Stop calling me Jadesola!" I punched at the door with all the fury buried in me, fervently wishing it was his body I was striking. "It's Miss Jadesola to you! We're not friends and we'll never be friends!!"

Another thump.

"Miss Jadesola, stop this. I'm scared you will hurt yourself! Please." Desperation was tinged in his tone.

"Fuck off! It's my body and I have the right to do whatever I want. Something you clearly have no idea of." I slammed my balled knuckles on the steel door, my movements, without concise and unholy. Like a woman possessed. And I was. I was haunted by the ghost of him and the only way to exorcize the fury out was if I could hack off the asshole's dick.

"Pele, bi-ko."

A deep frown knitted my brows together and I withdrew my wrist, nurturing the bruised fingers to my chest. What did he just say? Had he just spoken igbo and Yoruba to me? No fucking way. Even though his accent had butchered its pronunciation, the curiosity boiling in me prompted me to stand. Before I could stop myself, I unlocked the door.

My embittered gaze met Kian who was crouched on the floor.

"Thank you." He straightened up and dusted his jeans off. Then he held out what he had brought, biceps flexing as he extricated the box and chocolate out of the crook of his arm. "A peace offering."

I ignored the silly gesture, focusing on his words earlier. "What did you just say?"

"Thank you?"

"Before that." Even as I managed to let my lips move, I examined his jean clad legs, unwilling to glimpse at his upper body. There was a certain reluctance to look him in the eyes. The last time I'd viewed them, those glittering, azure orbs had been so unemotional and cold. Without any atom of feeling.

"Oh." He gave a tiny laugh and shifted forward. "Pele and biko. I know I got the pronunciation wrong but I decided to give it a try, see if you would just—"

"Don't ever appropriate my language." My voice turned stiff, blunt. "You're not and will never be a part of us."

The little delight went away in his voice. "Noted."

Good.

Mute, I studied the tiled floor on which we stood, a million questions running through my mind at supersonic speed, at a loss at what to do. How do I bang the door in his face again? The knife on the kitchen counter, was it still there? Is there any way I could scream if he decided to be a monster again? Would anyone even hear?

"Can I come in?"

I shook my head no, yet my lips read a silent yes.

"Miss Jadesola?" he prompted.

Instead of giving him a reply, I made way for him inside, moving as cautious as I could, just in case he decided to be sly. Every nerve in my body howled that I was doing the wrong thing but I needed to. I had to show him I wasn't afraid anymore. This was a step to conquering my fear, getting what I craved for. Revenge.

"Leave the door open," I commanded curtly just as he was about to close it.

"Alright." Kian rounded away from the entrance and shifted to my position, his stupid gifts still spread outward.

Abruptly, my body began closing up at his vile presence, the urge to flee overpowering every instinct, insisting I stay and weather it out.

"You're shaking," he rasped out, a sense of alarm instilled in his deep voice. He hauled the gifts he gripped on the sofa beside us. "Sit. I'll get you a glass of water."

"I'm fine," I croaked, my tongue and lips, drier than leather. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, heart throbbing rapidly. I'd allowed this man inside my home. Inside my fucking bedroom.

He inched closer, his rosemary cologne enveloping me whole. A scent I once surmised delicious.

Alarmed, I backed away, the insurmountable rage snuffed out and fright filling in its stead. What was I thinking? He could do it and I wouldn't be able to escape.

My chest rose and fell rapidly as I pushed a quivering palm out. "Please. Stop coming close. Please."

He was unheeding, choosing to grow close.

Fuck no. Not again.

Nausea pitched in and I swayed on my feet. The feel of his fingers probing deep, tugging at my privates, the taste of his disgusting sperm.

"Jadesola, look at me." Long legs swallowed the distance between us, his voice as soft and as tender as a caring lover. The voice of a wolf in a sheep's clothing. "You're having a panic attack."

"I said I'm fine, dammit! Don't come any closer." Blood roared in my ears, fierce and brutal.

His physique swarmed in my sightless vision, a merge of a 6 feet tall man clad in blue jeans and a tight fitted t-shirt. A hulking monster eager to resume what he'd started earlier.

"You're not fine." His strong palm waved in my face. "Come on, look at me, Jadesola."

It's Miss Jadesola to you! I ached to scream but my gag reflex kicked in as I doubled down. Terror locked the sound in my throat and I could only tap my feet against the ground, shuddering so violent.

Tap. Tap. Tap. He's not real. You're not real.

He came closer. And closer.

Tap. Tap. Tap. He's not real. You're not real.

A centimeter more and he would grab me to—I shut my eyes tight, unaware I was muttering the words out loud.

Tap. Tap. Tap. He's not real. You're not–

"You're real, Jade. I'm real. You're real. You're just having a panic attack and that's normal. But you'll be okay." He settled a hand on my back. "Come on, breathe in, slowly and out, slowly." He was directly in front of me.

"Get off me! Please!" I snapped, folding my upper body in a terrified cower.

Kian yanked his touch away and retreated, opening his arms wide in surrender. "See, I'm miles apart. It's fine. You're fine." The last part of his sentence came out shaky, like he was trying to convince himself, as if he was unsure.

I took no notice of him, concentrated on getting my act together as I tightened my gaze shut. Sucking my abdomen in, I planted my fingers on my stomach, then I drew in shaky breaths, all the while counting backwards and reminding myself I wasn't in a vulnerable position. My inhalation of air became less ragged, my heartbeat a tad calm and the blood rushing in my ears, a silent roar. When I was calm, the agitation in my veins now a mere trickle of ice, I opened my eyes.

"Fuck me. This is worse than I thought. Shit." He heaved a tired sigh, inserting his palms into the front pockets of his jeans. "How do you feel now?"

Zero words met him. I was still in that bent position, willing the tears to dry up.

He began pacing round the room, sneakers running into the tiled floor with a dull sound. "I thought I could solve it by being here but it appears my presence makes it worse. Kian, what the fuck did you do?"

I craned my neck up and slid my eyes across the stiff, bunched shoulders, the left fingers that ran through blonde, messed up strands, a whiff of that earthy aroma permeating my entire room. He was stuck in his own world, rambling like a mad man, clenching and unclenching his right hand into fists as he walked to and fro.

"Kian." I stood straighter, disturbing ideas racing and churning within the confines of my mind. Foremost, how to torture him. Second, how I would require two things from him before his death.

He stopped pacing and glanced at me. A soulful perusal. "Yes?"

I avoided his direct scrutiny and cast a helpless stare at my blemished knuckles. "You claim you're willing to atone for your sins?"

Hope reflected in his voice and he intoned in a thick tone, "Yes. Anything you want. Money. Houses. Cars. Any fucking thing. You name it."

I shook my head, holding myself back from slapping him. "I'm not interested in your money but I would like you to follow me to my mom's place tonight and help me convince her that we are truly in love. She believes that I–"

His phone rang loud and he answered. "Give me a minute."

Kian ventured outside the room and into the living room. Livid yells and growls reached my ears, piercing through the cocoon of misery I'd wrapped around me. Despite myself, I wondered who was on the other line but didn't move an inch to eavesdrop. The man deserved whatever problem he was facing.

He came in a few minutes later, his figure drooped like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. "You were saying something about your mom, yes?"

I dipped my head, right.

Kian cleared his throat then, "How about we help each other out? You'll be my fake fiancée and I'll accompany you to your mother's house. Deal?"

Taken aback by such a bold request, I staggered back, as if he'd punched me in the gut, blowing me away. Really, was this man blind to all he'd done? I didn't know whether to feel insulted or embarrassed, I had once called this man my boss.

When I didn't answer, he added, "I'll throw in a couple of millions, 10 million dollars to be exact. So deal?"

I walked right up in front of him despite the urge to flee, all the anger from earlier trickling through my veins, firing me up. At that point, it was only the fire flooded in my blood that didn't make me shudder into myself.

"Are you trying to buy my silence? Shutting me up so I won't press charges? If this is you trying to appease your conscience, then, you're doing a very bad job at it," I hissed, seeing red, my fingers digging into the flesh of my palms, pinpricks of pain ricocheting along the area.

His tongue snaked out to wet his moving lips. "No. I'm doing it because I need to evade the advances of my ex and father. Also, I know you. You can't turn down a money offer. No matter how angry you are."

A mirthless grin curved my lips. "I kind of figured it out, you know. While you were ranting, I asked myself, why was this man being sorry? Did he want me for something? Of course you did."

His mouth formed words but I held a finger up, letting a bitter laugh escape me, "All that stupid apology you spewed earlier was your game. A stupid game to get me to be your pawn again! Man, are you a sorry excuse of the male species. So think again Kian. Decide who's going to collect your stinking money because this girl here is done with you and your nonsense contracts! Now leave my house!"

I shot my index finger towards the exit.

"Jade—" he began, raising his arms.

"Out!"

Kian made to speak, thought better of it and nodded. Then he lifted his peace offerings. "For you."

Tipping the flower towards me, a token of his nonsense, he uttered in a low tone, hopeful still, "These are Juliet roses, I figured you might like them."

I scanned the velvet pink blooms, drawn to reach out and caress a petal. It wasn't hidden that Juliet roses were one of the most expensive and rarest roses in the world. A flower many people would give an arm and a leg just to get a single flower out of the bunch.

Jerking my chin up, vision distorted from the rapidly forming tears, I snapped, "Not interested. Carry them along with you."

"Please. At least take the roses and the box."

In a flash, I ripped the bouquet out of his arms and flung it to the ground. Then, I trampled on the rose petals. Same as how he'd ruined me. They emitted a silent crunch, the cool scent of lemon cloaking us in a bubble.

"There, are you happy?" I met his eyes for a slight second, unable to check the anguish that gripped my heart.

His expression was unreadable but he slowly nodded. "Yes, I am. At least, you finally looked me in the eyes and took them from my hands. To me, that's all that matters."

Through the rage that held my tears together, I looked at Kian, really looked at him. And he wasn't faring any better than I was, well, physically. He appeared like shit, a 5 O'clock beard cloaking his once trim jaw, eyes red-rimmed and sunken in. Regarding him through a seething viewpoint, I prayed the guilt was a sharp knife twisting and tearing up his insides, just as he'd torn me up.

For a long while, we scrutinized each other, shielded in a world of broken promises and trusts. His deep blue eyes pulled me in, no longer as cold as I'd last seen them. They glittered, an emotion I didn't care to acknowledge shining in them.

I averted my own eyes, breaking the spell. "Get out."

Kian blew a helpless breath before dropping the metal case and chocolate on the sofa. "You know where to find me if you need me."

Then he left, mercifully carrying with him his rosemary cologne.

The moment his feet crossed the threshold, I fell to the floor in a broken heap, trembling. Scorching tears trailed a watery path down my cheeks. How dare he? Did he really believe I could be bought? Was that all I was worth? A measly bargain?

The nerve of the scumbag. The fucking nerve! To think I had been starting to trust the man was actually repentant.

Raising my head, the purple Cadbury peeked at me. it lay, without a care in the world, infuriating me. Almost as if my life was a mere joke and eating chocolates would fix it all. Pissed at that notion, I grabbed the box and tossed it in the door's direction. It hit the wall with a dull thud. My gaze latched onto the black case, ready to throw it next.

I sniffed and tugged the case close. It was loosely shut, as wide and long as my lower arm. Curious to know what exactly could fit inside, I unlocked it.

"What the?!" My eyes flared wide. Inside lay a gold dagger. It appeared antique yet strong enough to kill with a strike. Intricate designs and symbols, all merging into one another, ran along the edges of the object, light glinting off its sharpened tip. With shivering palms, I curled my palm around the helm, running a finger along the honed blade line, noting how eager it seemed to nick my skin.

Why on earth had he given me this? I drew my lips into a thin, furious line. What game are you playing, Kian?

Another object caught my gaze. A folded piece of wrinkled paper. It must have fallen off when I opened the case.

Keeping the dagger inside carefully. I rolled the paper open, sifting through the words as fast as I could.

Ever since I was a child, I never really knew how to express myself while talking so permit me to write about my feelings. I also felt you wouldn't want to watch me talk so I figured you might read this. Hopefully.

I want you to know that I'm the one at fault here. I was mad when you mocked me back at the wedding reception so I decided to bring down your self-esteem and pleasure myself, while at it. I fucked up and hell, I deserve to be imprisoned. But that's not enough. Saying and not acting like I should.

The dagger in the box? You must have seen it. Please, don't think I'm out of my senses, or maybe I really am because I bought it for you. It's an antique, an inheritance from one of my Berber ancestors in my mother's family. A cherished relic, I want you to use it as you deem fit. Deem fit, as in, you can stab me the next time I touch you. And I promise you that you wouldn't, because there will be no next time. No more.

The paper fluttered in my wobbling hands as I took another glimpse at the dagger. It laid, so proud and so dangerous. Still petrified, I continued reading;

Again, you don't deserve what you went through. You're not a black whore. You're a strong, brave woman and I will never take that from you again. Ever. And if I have to pay whatever penance for my actions, please let me know.

P.s: Also I am aware this might seem like a private question but I am really worried. Are you still bleeding down there? If you are, let me take you to the clinic. It's the least I can do if you refuse my help.

-k.z.f

A ping interrupted me and I let the letter drift away. Focusing my jaded attention to my phone, I read the message.

Iya mi: Why are you not picking your phone? Still on DND? Not my business, sha. Just bring your fiance to my place this evening. Till then, better hide your face from mine.

Her statement solidified my resolve and I texted him.

A/N: Yes! Again sorry if my writing style is not up to par, le sigh. Please thoughtsss and comments.😭😭 I love to hear from you guys.🥺🙏🏾

Do you like how I showed this side of Kian? You have to remember he still doesn't like black people and while he wants to atone for his sins, he won't be too fast in declaring his "love" for her or whatever.

Oh and btw you know the letter stuff, Kian's just like me fr fr, lmao. Idk how to really express myself well but if it's to write one long ass message, I would.💀😭

As for the dagger part, dyu believe it was thoughtful of Kian or he's just deluding himself?

Next chapter should, by God's grace, be coming out this week. Thanks guys for reading!

Nita.❤️🫶🏾✨