Her Billionaire Mafia Stalker

There should be a law for people to kill their stupid exes after the relationship crashes! They just has to be, because now I have to suffer for the rest of my life remembering that I was once an idiot in love with a bigger idiot!!

I wasn't planning to ruin my liver today. Honestly, I wasn't planning to ruin anything today, but the damn universe had been looking for my trouble since morning, and the final straw was seeing my ex post another mysterious "guess what body part it is" picture of the same girl he's been parading for two years on his social media, and even tagging me on the damn post just in case I was blind and missed all the other 200 posts he's been making.

My ex boyfriend was the reason I booked a last minute flight from New York for an impromptu vacation away from his nonsense and now, I was looking out the window at the most breathtaking ocean view I had ever seen.

“Maria, I swear to God...” I hissed into my phone as I looked through my skimpiest, sluttiest dresses I had brought with me on my short vacation.

“If that man posts one more picture of that girl’s elbow, shoulder, or left nostril, I’m blocking him AND his ancestors.”

Maria, my best friend, snorted so loudly I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

“I need to get drunk,” I continued as I moved to the window of my beachside hotel. The view, as always, was breathtaking!!

I turned back into my hotel room, picked one of the dresses by the hanger, and placed it over my body while I twirled in front of the mirror...fucking gorgeous.

“I need to get so fucking drunk I forget my name, your name, his name, and the color of my damn dress.”

“Celene...”

“No. No. Don’t Celene me. I’m one heartbreak away from becoming the villain in my own story. I can't continue like this.”

“It’s been two years, babe,” Maria said through a half-giggle. “Why does he still get under your skin?”

“Because I’m still single, Maria!” I snapped, half whining, half dramatic. “School owns half of my soul. Writing owns the other half. Who has time to date?!”

“You could make time...”

“No, I cannot. I’m tired. Bone-tired, gurlll. I need a break, I need a vacation, I need a long nap, and I need alcohol. In that order.”

Maria’s giggle came again, softer this time. “You sound like one of the characters, you write about in your books, chica.”

“Maria, I’m begging you. Let me be dramatic in peace.” I said and dropped the dress I had finally picked one one side of my bed. It was a red, short sparkly number. The dress was short but, the top half of the dress still left a little to the imagination, like a teaser for the wild California men.

Maria was still giggling as I started to do my make up.

“Okay, okay. Breathe, dramatic queen. What happened this time? Did he post her forehead?”

“No,” I huffed. “Worse. Her shoulder blade. And he tagged me!!.”

Maria wheezed in laughter so damn hard I had to pull the phone away again.

“I’m serious!” I snapped. “He keeps showcasing her like he’s waiting for me to react. Like I’m supposed to collapse on the floor crying because he found a girl who can tolerate his nonsense.”

I could hear Maria’s signature giggle at my remark. I swear all this girl does is laugh at me.

"Oh really, Celene. Is that why you packed up your bag like some teenager and went to enjoy a vacation without me? Girl, I thought you were my ride or die" she said in between giggles.

"Yeah, right. Say that when your ex keeps dropping flowers at your doorstep while tagging you to posts of other women he says he loves. I keep blocking the fool, but he just goes on and creates another account to continue the cycle!" I whined into the phone just as I dabbed on my nude lip gloss on my lips to complete my look.

I shimmied into my tight, red dress, looked in the mirror and decided to change my clothes last minute. Instead of a dress, I went for a cute off the shoulder crop top and jeans. If I would be drinking on my own while on vacation in a strange place, the best thing I could do for my safety would be to dress comfortably.

With that final thought I switched clothes immediately, while Maria was still on the phone, rambling and giggling almost like she was more excited than me about the thought of getting drunk.

"Girl, I'm all done. I'll call you sometime later, okay?" I said into my phone and hung up without even giving her a chance to say bye back.

The hotel I was in had the prettiest club on the ground floor and that was where I was headed... to burn up my damn liver and hopefully forget my ex.

The club was so big and with just the right amount of darkness to make me comfortable. The music was so loud, you could not even hear yourself fart!

But I needed alcohol so I walked to the bar and struggled to order my first glass of martini.

"Hey beautiful, why is a pretty girl like you all alone in a big club like this? Makes me want to swoop in and save you. "

The slimy voice of the drunk man beside me almost made throw up, but I chose to ignore him instead.

"Ignoring me, huh? Well, how about I get you another drink?" He said and then snapped his fingers at the bar man who brought a whole bottle of Jonny Walker to him.

"Can I top off your drink, love?" The slimy bastard said.

"Not my brand, not interested," I said and walked away from the bar.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, meaning I just got a notification. I looked at the picture that I had just been tagged in again, finally, her entire fucking face! He posted her face smiling up at the camera, at him.

Without much thought I walked back to the bar.

"You know what? I think I'll take that drink!" The slimy, weird grin of the man should have warned me, but I was too angry to even think correctly. Who cared if it was Johnny Walker? I wanted my brain to walk away from me at this point!

I swallowed a large gulp of the drink he poured and ran straight to the dancefloor to shake what my mama gave me.

It didn't take long for me to realize something was different. The dizziness from the alcohol hit way too fast, sweat covered my entire body, something was very wrong.

I tried to dance a little more, to move my body some more, but it kept getting heavier and heavier. Right there on the dancefloor as I struggled to keep myself on my feet, I could think of just one thing...

Fuck. This bastard drugged me.