Chapter 8

Annabelle's POV

Manslaughter.

I was 1.5 milliseconds from committing murder.

As I looked up at him, all I could think of were ways I would successfully hide his corpse after I'd killed him for trying to act smart and ruining my plans. Reading intent was one of my core skills. I could catch foul play from ten thousand meters away, and I sure as hell caught his.

I would have just walked away. I should have. But the vengeful me wouldn't just let it go. Not only had he stupidly fed me vodka, he almost just ruined a perfectly timed opportunity.

I paused at my first string of thoughts. Then slowly ran it down my head again, "I just drowned a bottle of vodka. And now, the guy that sent me the bottle decided to bump into me just after I was done with the said bottle.

Was this guy deliberately trying to get me drunk? Was he a spy? Who the guck sent him?

"Hey dear, are you okay? My name is Robert, and I'd like to know you more. I was the one who sent you that vodka, did you like it?"

Jesus!

"Look I just came over to talk to you. So would you mind taking a sit? Or would you rather I escort you to your room?"

Fuck! That did it for me.

Faster than he could ever have comprehended, the back of my right hand landed on his cheek with a whooping sound.

Waaaaaaap.

Meg got stopped in her tracks. She was coming to deliver my receipt to me. Everything went to a standstill as the whole restaurant became dead silent, and Robert was the silent of them all.

"Belle, you are more logical than emotional. Use it to your advantage. Never let someone who has crossed you know what's coming for them. Take them unawares." I heard my mother's teaching creep into my mind. I banished the thought immediately. I didn't need my mother's voice poisoning my mind right now.

I had always been in control of my actions and reactions. But right now, I was finding it very difficult to get my emotions under control. I shouldn't have slapped him. I should have lured him to my room and ripped out every damn secret he had in his closet. Why I hadn't acted logically was beyond me.

"It's probably because of the stress you've been through this past few months on that case." My mind reasoned.

Which was why I had decided to remain in Abuja for a while, to cool off and probably pull off a quick job. But it seemed faith wasn't going to let that happen any time soon.

Robert's hands were still placed on his cheek in shock. I knew his cheeks were going to undergo terrible swelling. I bet it was already somewhat reddish by now.

I looked towards the overall show glass again and discovered that the guy was no longer seated on his table. I looked around and he was nowhere in sight.

Damn it!

I quickly focused my attention on the situation at hand instead, deliberately removing my mind from that guy. It was possible he wasn't even the one in the first place.

Oh lord, I was drunk.

Between me assuming that guy was my target and slapping Robert, there was no one else to blame except the alcohol. It was the perfect fall guy.

"Oh my God sir, are you okay?" I heard Meg exclaim, finally breaking the two-minute silence that had overtaken the hall. As she rushed towards him, her very next attempt was pretending to check his face so she could rob her tits on him.

Gosh!

"I am fine Meg, I'm good. Just get me a glass of water, will you?" Robert replied, effectively discharging her.

She took off towards the kitchen and Robert fixed his gaze at me. Surprisingly, there was no anger reflected on this face. Just a simple frown, and a redding check.

"Was that necessary?" Robert asked, his voice even and stable, giving nothing away of his emotions.

"Did your mama not tell you that trying to take advantage of a tipsy lady will fetch you a hot slap?" I asked, raising my left eyebrow to finish off my sarcastic expression.

Robert laughed, throwing his head back with abandon. The atmosphere suddenly felt lighter with that laugh. I guessed he was trying to let me off easy but I didn't need that. I was a big girl. I could take care of whatever situation I put myself in.

"Okay, could we at least sit down and talk about why you decided to slap me without understanding my motives?"

"No. I don't want to sit, neither do I want to talk. I just want you out of my sight so I can proceed to my destination."

"And what destination would that be?"

This guy was infuriating.

"None of your business! look, I never asked for a bottle of vodka for breakfast. You were stupid enough to send it and you got the repercussion of your actions."

I wasn't in the mood for this, at the back of my mind I knew I was being rude, but then again I could only blame it on the alcohol. I needed to get to the bar now. Sparkling water was the solution.

"You know what, it seems you are in a bad mood right now, so I'm just gonna walk away gently." And with that, Robert moved past me and out of the restaurant.

That was the very moment Meg appeared, carrying a tray with a glass of water in it. "Mr Rob? Your water!" She exclaimed, trying to go after him with the glass of water in her hands.

I figured Robert ignored her because she slowed, and turned to face me with a dejected look on her face. What I couldn't understand was why she was sending me daggers for stares.

The bitch.

"Where is my receipt, Meg?" I asked. Not minding the fact that she was looking at me like she was about to hurl the glass of water in her hands at me.

"I just discovered your bill has been cleared Miss," she replied, her voice heavily laced with venom.

I frowned, "By who?"

"Mr Rob."

Why was she giving me an attitude? Was it my fault that Robert didn't pay her any mind?

"I need you to reject it and sent it back to him right now. Then send the bill to me." I didn't wait for her reply, I just brushed past her and proceeded to the bar. As I did I could feel Meg stare like hot coal at my back. Well, I was way above her league and there was nothing she could do about it.

I got to the dimly lit bar and took a seat at one of the barstools. Dropping my book on the counter, I signalled for the bartender.

"Hey, could I get a glass of sparkling water?" I asked.

"Coming right up Ms," the bartender replied.

Within minutes the glass appeared in front of me and I wasn't more grateful than at that moment.

"Thank you," I said to him, placing the glass to my lips and taking a sip. Immediately, I began to feel way better. My head seemed clearer.

"I added a little soda. It helps with stress and alcohol." I heard the bartender say. No wonder I immediately felt relieved.

I sent him a grateful smile as I replied, "You are good at your job." He smiled back at me as he went to pick up a bottle from the shelf, and with amazing skill, began mixing up another drink.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"Yeah, I am. It kinda tastes good actually. I'd love to learn this recipe."

"If I tell you, I'll have you kill you, ma'am." That brought out a laugh from me.

"Then I'll just have to take permission from Amy. I'm sure you know who she is." I said, sending him a wink.

It felt good to release some steam and just chat. I needed more of this. I took another sip of the magical water and closed my eyes as I felt it go down my throat and into my body. It felt divine.

"Could I get a glass of scotch please?" A strongly familiar voice asked.

I paused.

Please lord, let it not be him. I silently prayed as I slid my eyes shut for a moment.

"You'll still have to face him eventually. You've got an assignment, remember?" A voice in my head whispered. I pushed the thought to the furthest part of my mind.

I was just getting relaxed. I knew I would have to face him eventually, it wasn't like I had a choice in the first place but not right now. A few minutes ago, meeting him had fit perfectly into my plans but right now wasn't the right time.

I peered my left eye open slowly to take a peep and confirm if it was him. Lo and behold, my suspicion was confirmed.

Damn, damn, damn it to hell!