The Heart Thief

the heart thief- |02|

Roman

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          I love New York.

          Something about it kept luring me back to it. Perhaps it was the chaos of sirens wailing in the distance and car alarms blaring at the most inconvenient hour of the day. It might have been the shouting and laughing on the concrete sidewalks or the chaos in the streets. In any case, it was just something missing from home.

           I was hooked by the city after just one visit four months ago, so much so that I begged my older brother, Blake, to let me run our company in New York while he ran the one in London. Since he wanted to return home, it wasn't challenging to persuade him, so I packed my bags and relocated to New York, bringing my best friend, Isaac, with me.

          Isaac and I rushed to my penthouse as soon as we landed and the lovely city welcomed us. I was utterly worn out, but he wanted to go out and have a good time tonight, and I wanted to sleep so that I could get up early to go to work. I had a lot of work ahead of me, including introducing myself, getting to know the staff, and firing anyone who needed to be fired, but in the end, the asshole won me over.

          Club Zero, which we frequented whenever we were in the city, was described in various magazines as the hottest club in New York. The club was difficult to get into unless you had connections, making it strictly exclusive and the type of place you would want to unwind without anyone worrying about what you do. Isaac and I were frequent and well-known customers. Customers who were well-known for picking up women.

            When we entered the club, he was as excited as a child at Christmas, scanning the dance floor, the bar, and the VIP area in search of the woman he wanted to fuck tonight. I gave him a forward push while shaking my head. People were dancing, bumping into each other, and swapping body sweat while the dance floor was illuminated from above by revolving lights. The little man down there jerked when I saw two women rubbing against each other, both of whom were hot. Everyone spotted them, not just me.

          "Damn," Isaac swore with a slow whistle. "I'm taking them home tonight."

          "They're clearly together, you dumbfuck. Won't give your ass a chance." He called for a waiter as we sat down at our table and rolled his eyes. The waiter set the two priciest cocktails on the table and scurried off.

          "Pretty sure that won't be a problem," he answered, looking around the club. "It's well packed tonight. You reckon they knew we would be here?"

          I chuckled and chugged down my beer. "How's Samantha?"

          His face turned sour and he scowled at me. "Really, Roman? You wanna talk to me about Sam tonight?"

          "Before we left, she came to me and made me promise to talk about her all the time so you wouldn't forget her so quickly," I admitted, knowing Isaac would hate that. Samantha was the woman who was completely in love with him, but the asshole avoided commitment and love. He didn't believe in being with the same woman twice. He was more interested in picking them up and dumping them the next day. No woman had ever denied him anything. He had tousled black hair, slanted blue eyes, and sharp angles —everything women wanted in a man, and he took advantage of it. Every coloured light in the club caught his profile as if he were standing onstage, demanding everyone's attention.

          His eyes widened before he rolled his eyes. "Last time I checked, you're not her best friend. Why on earth would she do that?"

          "Because she loves you."