Chapter 41 Mess with His Woman and You're Dead
Suddenly, Brooklyn's gaze was drawn upwards to a young man who had appeared before her. His eyes were roaming over her, scanning her from head to toe, before finally settling on her chest with an unapologetic stare.
Feeling uncomfortable, Brooklyn instinctively adjusted her neckline, recalling that this very man had been engaged in conversation with a model just moments ago.
"Apologies, I didn't notice you earlier," Brooklyn said, setting down her glass and offering the man a box of tissues. She gestured for him to clean himself up.
The man remained motionless, leaning against the liquor shelf with a casual yet sinister air. "You ignored me just now, darling. Are you playing hard to get? You've soaked my clothes and splashed alcohol in my face. What do you think should be done about that?"
Brooklyn was puzzled. How had she overlooked this man until now?
Her initial remorse quickly faded and she offered a placating smile. "Sir, I'll reimburse you for your clothes," she said, reaching for her phone. "Just give me your bank account number and I'll transfer the funds immediately."
The man dismissed her offer with a wave of his hand. "Money? I don't need it. If you're looking to make amends, perhaps we can find a more mutually satisfying way."
A sense of foreboding crept over Brooklyn. She scanned the crowd for her friend Kelly, but to no avail.
"And what did you have in mind?" she asked, her voice steady.
The man closed the distance between them, draping an arm around her shoulder. His breath, heavy with the scent of alcohol, washed over her face. His lips traced a line along her neck as he murmured, "How about we get to know each other a little better?"
Brooklyn scoffed, "I doubt you have the nerve."
"Darling, you underestimate me. I'm Davon Lawson. There isn't a woman in Aucester I wouldn't dare to approach."
Recognition dawned on Brooklyn. This was Davon Lawson, one of the four wealthy young men of Aucester. Her friend Susie had mentioned him before, even harboring a crush on him. Despite his good looks, he was known for his troublesome behavior and lack of redeeming qualities.
Determined to put him in his place, Brooklyn steeled herself.
As Davon's breath tickled her ear and his hand brushed against hers, she warned, "You'd do well to keep your distance. Otherwise, you might not live to regret it."
"Are you threatening me, darling? How thrilling. My heart's racing. You'll have to take responsibility for that," he teased.
Brooklyn shot back, "Remove your hand. If you come any closer, I won't hold back."
Davon wedged his arm between Brooklyn and the liquor shelf, effectively trapping her. A cunning glint appeared in his eyes as he lowered his gaze to meet hers. "I'm curious to see what you'll do, darling. Whatever it is, I'm sure I'll enjoy it."
Brooklyn's fists clenched as she eyed the vulnerable space between his legs. Raising her knee, she prepared to strike. It had been a while since she had resorted to such measures.
She thought, 'You asked for this, you bastard.'
"Boom!"
But in the next moment, Brooklyn was left stunned. Davon had caught her knee mid-strike, rendering her attack ineffective.
Caught off balance by her own momentum, she found herself falling towards him.
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