Delusional Hate

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Nicole's pov...

"Wear casual attire." His unexpected instruction sent a jolt of surprise through me. I quickly settled on a cosy white woollen sweatshirt paired with sleek black denim, tying my hair back into a tidy ponytail. Slipping into my favourite black ankle boots, I dashed out, heart racing.

Navigating the chaotic streets of New York felt like a death race, all for Mr. Arrogant, who demanded my presence immediately for a meeting. I wouldn’t have minded it on a regular weekday, but enduring this torment on a Saturday evening had my thoughts swirling with curses directed at him.

Upon arriving at the Royal Hotel, the venue known for its opulence, preferred by high-class patrons like him, I was greeted by the receptionist, who guided me with an air of authority. This, too, was surprising.

As we approached the glass doors leading to the rooftop, an unsettling sight met my eyes: two figures seated at a beautifully set dining table beneath a starlit sky. The intimate dinner date atmosphere felt conspicuously out of place and sent a wave of suspicion through me.

The receptionist swung open the door, and there he stood, rising from his chair with a charming grin plastered across his face. "Hey Mon amour, where have you been all day?" he exclaimed, the words slipping out in a haze that hinted he might have indulged in a drink or two.

Was he completely out of his mind? I felt a mix of disbelief and irritation as he continued with a nonchalant, "I'm glad you decided to join me for dinner."

With a begrudging hesitance, I walked toward the table where he gallantly drew out a chair for me. I sat down reluctantly, murmuring a half-hearted "thank you" for his forced courtesy that felt more like a performance than a genuine welcome.

"Serena, meet my fiancée, Nicole," he introduced, his smile strained and almost mocking.

A sense of shock washed over me, choking me as I took a sip of water; I felt paralysed, staring at him with mounting revulsion.

My heart sank as I registered the words. When had this calamity occurred?

"Missed you, Sunshine," he murmured, his soft lips brushing against my knuckles, a gesture intended to bring me back from my stunned state.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Serena," I managed to reply, plastering on a polite smile as we shook hands, feeling an unsettling mix of emotions boiling beneath the surface.

Suddenly, she excused herself, the hurt in her eyes evident as she walked away, leaving me bewildered and questioning everything.

I was utterly baffled until he leaned in and whispered sharply, "Play along, Davis..."

What the hell was happening?

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