Heir to his heart

POV of Amanda

Girls are bobbing their hips along to the loud music. In the clubhouse, there is a mix of joy, freedom, excitement, and tension—sexual tension.

Except for me, everyone seemed to be content. I want to be inebriated with my woes. I notice my best friend looking on in sympathy.

Marg, I despise him. I scream, “I hate him,” as I down the last of the vodka.

“Babe, just let it go. She puts her hand on my shoulder and says, “Let’s enjoy this night,” but I am unconsolable.

Already, tears are starting to fall from my eyes. When Margaret notices my tears, she sighs. She has probably had enough of assuring me that everything will be well.

She wants to enjoy the party, but being around me is making it impossible for her to do so. She must believe that bringing me here in the first place was a tremendous mistake. I understand that she suggested a party to lift my spirits, but I am pitiful. No

I burp and wipe my tears away with the back of my hand as I say, “I will deal with him when we next see him.”

“I will no longer bear his children. I continue to belch while saying, “I won’t.

“Didn’t I already tell you to forget about him? She seems irritated to me.

She is speaking to me in a tone that astounds me. To finally forget about Cameron by tomorrow, I just want to talk about him all night. Why won’t she simply comprehend?

Marg asked, “Are you yelling at me? I indicate her chest with my index finger. Marg shakes her head as she yanks me close to her.

She rocks my body to hers like a baby and murmurs in my ears, “I just want you to hear me because of the loud music.” She uses her thumb to wipe away my last few tears.

“No worries, baby. Do you realize how much I adore you?

I nod as I let go of the hug. I suddenly rise up and sway because I’m starting to feel pressured. Marg rises to assist me and prevent a tumble.

Asking “Where are you going?”

I respond, “I need to urinate.”

Marg offers, “Let me go with you.”

“No,” I reply with a laugh. I’ll return immediately. I break out of her grip.

The question Are you sure?”

I nod, Yep,” and stutter off to the restroom. I see a guy wink at my companion, and I know she’ll make the most of the brief window of time before I return.

My eyes are getting smaller, and I’m having trouble finding the restroom. I am aware of my inebriation. To improve my vision, I touch the back of my right hand to my eyes. I notice that the restroom is some distance away.

You’re fucked, Cameron. I scream, “I hate you,” placing both of my hands on the walls to bring me to the narrow hallway going to the restroom.

I’m attempting to maintain balance as I walk while my legs are trembling. I nearly lost it in anger. The restroom door is in front of me when I finally manage to get up while feeling exhausted. I use my left leg to nudge the door open and step inside.

A guy comes out of the second toilet just as I am about to zip down my skirt to make it easier for me to rapidly urinate. Additionally, he is zipping up his pants.

When he recognizes me, he exhibits shock.

I asked, “What are you doing here? I questioned him.

I asked, “What are you doing here? He also demands

Looking at him, I wonder why he’s in the female restroom rather than the male.

He sneers, “You seem inebriated,” and walks over to the mirror to wash his hand.

His comment has harmed me.

“How dare you call me drunk? I furiously pursued him.

I was getting drunk to help me forget how Cameron had deserted me for a party girl. I’m in a restroom with a man who is calling me a drunk, and drinking isn’t helping me forget.

My yell seems to have shocked the man. He turns and lowers his arms. The question, “Aren’t you drunk?”

Naturally not,” I snort.

He gives a soft giggle before turning around to finish washing his hands so he can go.

I call him a “pervert”. “I know you are in here because you want to see the underwear of all the girls who come in here,” the woman said.

“Will you please shut the hell up? He growls indignantly at me. His eyes start to turn crimson, and I start to tremble in terror. I’m afraid of authoritative tones. He gives me a long, stern look before approaching.

When I start to take a step back after recognizing his menacing expression, he is just a few feet away from me.

I jerked my back against the wall and opened my eyes wide, my heart thumping furiously. I study his features, taking note of his wavy black hair, pink lips, mustache, and sharp, pointed nose. He appears both dashing and dangerous.