His Games, Her Rules

I stare harder, trying to lie to myself that there’s no way the universe can make us meet again after I hit his car. But, fuck no. The universe has other plans because he raises his head and our eyes lock for a long second, recognition embracing his facials.

Fuck. It’s him. It’s definitely him.

Just when I thought I was going to have a normal life, I hit a rich man’s car and ran away and then I had to run into him at a celebrity’s party.

Aren’t I the luckiest girl in the world?

With our eyes still locked in an intense battle, he raises his eyebrows, scowling at me like I’m a rebellious child. I look away, knowing nothing good is going to come out of that look as I throw my head back and gulp my entire drink.

I need to get out of here.

“Wow, now slow down, lady.” A masculine voice says beside me. I place my empty glass of drink in front of me and turn toward the source of the voice.

Omar Sharif. He’s a Hollywood actor, a hotshot for a while until someone new and hotter overtook his throne. He’s dressed in a dark blue suit, brown skin glowing. Well, at least he’s hotter in real life.

Omar puts up a flirtatious smile that I’m already used to as he stretches his hand to me for a handshake.

“I’m Omar. Now, who might you be, beautiful lady?”

I look down at his hand, refusing to shake it. Omar looks disappointed as he pulls his hand away.

“I’m Robyn.”

“Robyn.” He tests my name on his tongue as he smirks. “Rare but unique. You look stunning, Robyn.” Omar says, slowly bringing his gaze down my body.

Fuck, I hate that look.

I hate it when men look at me like that. There is nothing pure about that look. They’re simply telling you they don’t give a shit about you, they just want you on their sheets. No pun intended.

What an asshole.

“What do you want?” I blatantly ask. Omar looks offended as he raises his eyebrows for a second.

“Um… I don’t think you know who I am.”

“Omar Sharif. You were Hollywood’s hotshot for a while. Heard you got yourself a Bentley. You won’t even shut up about it on social media. I know you, Omar, I’m just not interested.”

“You don’t have to be a fucking bitch, you know that?” Now, he’s being paranoid. “You should be lucky I’m here talking to you.”

“Yeah, because you’re a god and I’m a fucking nobody,” I say with sarcasm. “Kindly fuck off, Mr. Hotshot.” I roll my eyes and look away, turning my head toward the direction I saw him earlier but he’s not there.

Is my mind playing a trick on me?

“You’re gonna regret this.” Omar’s voice draws me out of my head as I turn to look at him.

He stands, giving me a stink eye as he buttons his suit jacket and walks away.

Yeah, I definitely bruised his ego.

My eyes meet the bartender from earlier as he looks away, pretending to wipe clean one of the cocktail glasses. I stand up, desperately craving for fresh air, but the last person I expected to be standing in front of me, is standing in front of me, towering over me with his hands in his pants pockets.

“Look who it is. The car smasher.” He says, with a strange underlying tone that I can’t recognize.

He gives me a quick once over, bringing his eyes down my body to check me out before he locks eyes with me. His ocean eyes stare into my soul as I look for words. He’s wearing a black custom-made suit paired with a white dress shirt. His skin, golden. His dark brown hair is slicked back, with a few stubborn strands on either side of his perfectly shaped face. I’d be lying if I said this man doesn’t look attractive and good-looking. Right now, he looks like a god, watching me, scrutinizing me.

“You should close your mouth, anything could sneak in at this point.” Wow, he’s a fucking asshole.

I clamp my mouth shut, not realizing until he mentioned that I’ve been staring at him with my mouth wide open.

“Leaving so soon?” He asks, taking his hands out of his pants pockets.

I open my mouth to say something, but then I decide against it and clamp my mouth shut. Worst case scenario, I’m just going to have to pay for his car that I hit.

“Not really. I wanted to get fresh air.”

He nods. “Enjoying the party then?” He asks like we’re friends.

“I am.”

“So she can talk? For a second I thought you were mute.” He says. I hate the fact that he’s fucking rude but yet his baritone voice sends chills down my sPINe.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I hit your car but I didn’t mean to run away. I wasn’t looking and I didn’t mean to hit your car.”

“Twice.”

“Yeah. I may have not passed my driving lessons.”

“Right.” He nods once, bringing his eyes down my body for a second before locking eyes with me.

I do not understand that look. But I’m pretty sure the reason behind his look is not a good one. One look at him from my driver’s window earlier today and I know he’s a powerful man. I had to leave the scene of the crime as fast as I could.

“I’m guessing you didn’t think we would ever meet again.” True.

“Why did you run?” He asks, slipPINg his hands into his pants pockets.

“Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m gonna pay for it. If you want, I can send you the money for the cost so you’d understand I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Alright. It’s $25, 000 for the cost. And an extra 10k for repairs.”

“What?” I want to pull at my hair and yell at him for being annoying.

I stare at him, with so much anger running through my veins. I’m angry that he has to be so calm and collected while I’m trying so hard not to throw a tantrum. I can’t read his looks because there’s nothing to read. Not one ounce of emotion is sketched on his handsome face. It’s just blank.

“35k for a scratch?” I’m trying not to yell, but it’s so hard not to when he’s being a jerk on purpose. “Your car wasn’t totaled. It was a scratch, a little scratch and it wasn’t on purpose. There’s no way a scratch would cost $35, 000.”

He expels a breath and takes a step forward until we’re a few inches apart. He looks me in the eye and I don’t back down either, matching his gaze.

“You know what? Whatever. I don’t have cash with me right now but I can do a transfer.”

“I don’t need your money, sweetheart.” Sweetheart?

“You just told me the repairs for your car that I scratched is $35, 000.”

“That’s correct and I’ve fixed it. You’re gonna pay for it but I don’t need your money.”

Is he kidding me? How the fuck am I supposed to pay for it?

“Keep it at the back of your mind that you owe me.” He voices out, his voice calm and soothing.

For the millionth time tonight, he slowly brings his gaze down my body, taking his time. Then slowly he smirks, a reaction I didn’t see coming.

“Nice dress by the way… Robyn.” Then he winks and walks away, leaving me standing there looking like an idiot and stunned.

How the fuck did he know my name?NôvelDrama.Org content.