𝐃𝐞𝐛𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝟏𝟖+

2. dark suite

GABRIEL DALTON

✥

I despise when men have no respect for women.

If a woman says stop, you fucking stop.

My fists are still itching. I wish I punched him. But that is the last thing Zane needs in his club right now.

The power hungry men in this town always think that they're better than everyone else, because they have money and status, that gives them a green pass to harass and make women feel uncomfortable.

Why would anyone get off on the idea of that?

Having a woman come onto you because you make them feel comfortable and desired in a healthy way must boost your ego far more than pushing yourself on them. It has never made any sense in my mind.

They clearly have no game when it comes to chatting up women. Quite frankly, it's embarrassing. The way they prowl around like predators. Waiting for the right woman to pounce on. It's sickening.

In this case, I'm furious for Poppy. A club full of people witnessed that she was telling him to stop, attempting to push him off and not a single person wanted to step in and intervene.

I hate the world we live in sometimes.

A woman like Poppy will get eaten alive at a place like this, especially because she's here alone. There is nothing wrong with Zane's club but it hasn't been open for long and he's only just establishing his regulars and his business partners amongst those who come for VIP treatment.

Zane has no idea who the nice guys are until I've had all the bad men blacklisted.

I'm still at the bar facing Poppy. She says her friends are meant to be here but I don't believe her. She keeps glancing over her shoulder and then laying those gorgeous emerald eyes back on mine.

Then she flashes me a fake smile.

I can't stand the thought of her being out here by herself, not after what just happened.

Alexia adores Poppy. They've had a few fun nights together and I'm pleased that Lex can finally make a friend in this town who is a girl, someone she can relate to rather than being confined to her brother and her boyfriend.

My eyes flick down to the glass that she's holding between her hands, nails painted a dark blue. When I first met her, I noticed the white scars across her knuckles instantly. I didn't want to make it obvious I was staring but I couldn't help myself. How on earth did she get so many scars that are the size of grains of rice?

Poppy swipes her long red hair over her shoulder and sighs. I can tell something is wrong because she's becoming stiffer by the second. But considering this is only the second time I've met her, I know she won't tell me shit.

"My friends probably aren't coming," she sighs.

I nod and take down my drink. "Do you want me to call you a cab?"

She shakes her head. "No need," she offers me another bullshit smile. "I'll just wait for one outside."

Even the thought of her standing alone on the corner of the street. It doesn't sit well with me, at all.

"I'll wait with you," I suggest, placing my glass down onto the counter.

Her eyes spring wide, shaking her head in the process. "Honestly, you don't have to do that at all. Thank you for the drink and intervening earlier. I appreciate it... but I better go."

The edge of her champagne flute meets her delicate pink lips and she takes a small sip before placing it onto the bar. Her eyes find mine for a moment, I can tell she's trying her hardest to showcase a smile somewhere in them but they look lifeless, dull.